Finding Henry by Leann Austin

Author:Leann Austin [Austin, Leann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781659071665
Published: 2020-01-21T05:00:00+00:00

16

Timelines

The pendant laid on my bed looking like any ordinary object. From what Kelli-Anne found in her research, it was more than a Gala Days tchotchke. It had a practical purpose to the Christian travelers, a reminder of where they came from and really nothing more.

I rubbed the etching on the pendant, touched the worn engraving. The words were almost erased, like time had erased Henry.

I never realized how much I'd taken his friendship for granted. He'd always been around, and I guess I didn't think that would ever change. But time changed and so had we.

I missed the way Henry would wave at me as he wheeled his bike onto my sidewalk, that goofy grin on his face. He was always upbeat and easy going. Always smiled. I didn't think he'd go off to college and never come back. I didn't know he wouldn't have a reason to come back. I just thought as time passed, he'd always be around.

But people aren't always there, are they? I should have known better. My dad left us. My mom struggled to work two full-time jobs and one part-time job as she raised my sisters and me. I don't think we made it any easier for her being teenagers, but she was rarely home. She had to do it all if she wanted to keep us together. Dad didn't pay child support either. I was with my mom the day she went to the social services office. The clerk treated her like some sort of scum off the streets. My mom begged her for help. Can't you do anything? Can't you make him pay the child support? The woman shook her head. There's nothing I can do for you. Sorry. Next?

Next? Like Mom was a random number in line with no back story.

My mom had cried. Like, really cried. I never saw her cry before that day in my entire life. She was always strong and told us to stop our whining if we fell and got hurt or didn't get our way. Yes, this strong woman cried on the fifth floor of city hall and received no sympathy from social services. I'd slipped my hand in hers as we exited the building, but she pulled away. We'll find another way, she'd said. She was once again composed and stood taller. I loved and hated that about her. I admired her strength because it got us through some pretty bad times in life. But I also hated it because she wouldn't allow me to comfort her. It hurt me to see my strong mother cry in front of the heartless, uncaring civil servants. I had nothing to offer her but my hand, and she'd rejected it. Like she always rejected me.

And I'd rejected Henry. My best friend.

As I remembered how Mom had rejected me, I knew how I must have made Henry feel that day.

I put my hands on my heart, as if that would stop the ache I caused it.

The cycle ends where it begins.

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