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“It’s up to you, Miss Cole.” Squeezing Harley’s hand, I gained her attention and shook my head.
“You need to do this without me. I’ll be right here waiting for you. If you really need me, I’ll be in there in a heartbeat. You are strong enough to do this on your own, to heal yourself.” She nodded and blinked away her tears.
“To heal myself,” she repeated with a firm nod, and then like the beautiful bird she was, she raised her head high and followed the lady, her hair gleaming in the fluorescent light like the most exquisite feathers.
I scrolled through the new phone Andy and Layla gave me. Harley signed me up for all the latest social media apps, but nothing piqued my interest. I didn’t want to follow anyone from my past; nobody was worthwhile. The device vibrated with a text message, surprising me.
Andy: How is she?
I’d filled him in on Harley and the need for a therapist better suited to her condition. He and Layla had been instrumental in finding the therapist, and for that, I was grateful. But I still struggled to let them in, to give them the closure they needed.
Easton: Nervous.
They’d asked me yesterday if I wanted to change my name and take theirs. I’d left the office immediately, unsure of how to respond. I’d only known them for a couple of weeks, and they were already asking me to change it.
Harley would know what to do. She was my voice of reason.
Andy: Why don’t you bring her by for dinner at the house tonight?
I’d been invited a few times for dinner, and somehow had found a good reason not to go every time. I could easily say no, tell him she couldn’t handle it, but she’d tell me to go. Just like I pushed her here.
Easton: I’ll ask her.
Andy: Let me know. Your mother would love to cook for the two of you.
They constantly referred to themselves as mother and father, but they didn’t have a clue on how to be either. A real mother never would have deserted me.
Harley stepped back into the waiting room an hour later, her cheeks flushed, eyes swollen, her bottom lip bruised from biting it. Standing, I opened my arms, and she walked into them, dropping her head to my chest with a soft cry.
“I did it,” she whispered, relieved.
“I knew you could. How does it feel to fly, little bird?” I sank my fingers into her thick hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She sighed in my hold.
“Freeing.”
“Just wait until you soar.”
It was my turn to squirm in my seat in the car. Harley’s hand was interlocked with mine on the center console. She was humming along to the song playing on the radio, her other hand dancing in the wind of the open windows.
She hadn’t been this happy in a long time.
“Something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?” She turned her head to me, giving me all of her attention.
“Why would something be wrong?” I decided telling her was a bad idea, not after the day she’d had.
“You’re tense. What’s going on? Is it today? Are you regretting coming?” Worry and panic didn’t belong in her tone, but it was there, and I hated that I was the reason it was.
“I don’t regret anything that I do with or for you, Harley. Don’t you ever forget that. It’s about my birth parents.” I sighed, pressing the button to bring up the windows on the car so we didn’t have to talk so loudly.
“Oh? I didn’t realize you’d found them.”
“They found me. They own Andy’s Construction and have been looking for me for years, apparently. They gave me the job, apartment, car, phone, all of it in some fucked up way of mending their mistakes.” I glanced at her. She was digesting the new information.
“So, you’ve known for a couple of weeks then. Were you afraid to tell me?” I pulled into the parking garage of our apartment. She unclipped her seatbelt and turned to me.
Squeezing the steering wheel, I shifted the car into park and glared at the concrete wall in front of us.
“I didn’t want to upset you with how your parents have been.” She nodded.
