Fighting For What's Missing

56.

Agnes

Grandma refuses to tell us what's wrong with her. She says she doesn't want to worry us. But one glance at her and seeing how ill she is can make anyone worry.

After daddy brought in the bags, he made a call then "joined" us. He sort of hung around like...like a ghost. He stayed in the background and while grandma and Lena and I talked, daddy would make noises; heavy sighs, sucked teeth, annoyed moans, and you can feel when he rolled his eyes.

A few hours had passed and we started to get hungry. Tisha was too tired though and called it a night early.

"I already ate," Tisha smiles softly at Lena and me. "But whatever you make, you can bring me up some later."

"Okay, gram." I lean over and peck her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

I turn to daddy. "Can you help her up?" He makes a face but nods and crosses the room to us.

The moment daddy and Tisha disappear up the steps, Lena pulls me to the side, grasping at my arms. "Don't blame your father," she rushes out. "He's a tough man. He fought his way to and out of hell-nothing can hurt him. But what Tisha did..." her grey eyes grow glassy. "He couldn't forgive her."

"I know," I say hesitantly. "Well, not everything, but I know what your father did to you and daddy."

She smiles, and I'm sure it's the way I call daddy daddy. It's the same smile Tisha had when I first started calling him my dad.

"It's not that," Lena breathes. "Did your daddy ever tell you how I ended in prison?"

"No."

"Are you serious?" Daddy's deadly voice turns my blood cold. I step back from Lena, horrified, and turn my head to see daddy standing by the doorway, his glare locked on Lena. "Agnes...go outside," he orders, and I quickly run outside, not giving them a second glance.

William

It's frightening now calm I am. I mean I did only hear part of what Lena said and it was muffled so...maybe it was a misunderstanding.

"Will," Lena pleads.

And maybe it wasn't a misunderstanding.

"Were you about to tell my thirteen-year-old daughter that I almost killed a man?"

Lena blinks rapidly-a bad habit she's always had when she gets scared. "I-I-I-I just t-thought that-"

"What?!" I bark, stepping closer. "What could you have thought of that could possibly fucking justified telling my daughter that I almost killed a man?! Tell me how fucked up your mind is!"

Now I see why I'm not probably mad. This is the second time I've ever called if that; almost killing a man. I always saw it as protecting my sister. But the truth is, I did almost kill him, I wanted to pull the trigger, but I didn't and just because I didn't doesn't mean Agnes gets to know about it.

"Don't you find it strange how I went to prison, but you didn't?" Lena asks, a new fire in her voice. "I'm in prison for the crime you committed, Will-"

"I told you I would confess-I wanted to confess!"

"And I couldn't let you!...even though I wanted you to-I was so used of you saving me, but I couldn't let you this time..." her whole face drops, along with her shoulders and mood. "Now I see why."

Now she sees why? What the hell does that mean? Could she possibly be implying that Agnes is the reason why I didn't go to prison? Lena has always been a big believer in everything happens for a reason... "Lena," I sigh. "Please, don't tell her. That was a long time ago, I've clearly changed, and I can't have my daughter thinking the worse of me."

"She won't." Lena steps closer, her expression brightening again.

I know the topic of the conversation is serious and shouldn't be taken lightly, but I can't help but notice with the distance between us so small how tall my sister is. I'm short for a man-I'm 5'10-but my sister, my little sister, is fucking 6'0. I don't have an issue with women being taller than me, but Lena...I don't know, I've always protected her and cared for her, and it's always secretly bothered me that I'm not taller than her. Being taller was supposed to be a given.

"Lee, I don't want her to know. It's that simple," I say in a calmer tone.

"Okay," she nods. "I'm sorry."

"Okay..." I turn for the door-my daughter's outside alone and probably thinking the worse of not just me but of everything; Tisha being sick and Lena and me snapping at each other. But turning half, I stop and look back at my little sister. "Did you ever plan on seeing me?"

She chuckles. "I only agreed to see Tisha to see you, but I knew you had Agnes and you don't feel comfortable with me or-" Now I'm the one to laugh. "Hey!" She punches my arm. Lena hates when people laugh at her. "Don't fucking laugh at me, Will!"

"Uncomfortable? Really, Lena?" I smile at her. "I'm not ashamed of you or uncomfortable around you, I just wanted to give...everyone time to adjust to each other." Lena is just like me, the only difference is she has emotions. We've both smashed a bottle over someone's head, I wouldn't give a fuck, but Lena would. Eventually, she would start feeling bad. I never did.

"Agnes," Lena says, catching on to what I was saying before. "The way she looks at you..." her eyes drift behind me and she stares deeply into space, thinking. "Did she know her birth parents?"

"She did."

Lena's eyes lock in on me again then widen. "What?"

"Agnes went from her birth parents to one fostering home for a few days-" I wince. I can still remember my little girl in the hospital, looking awful because a kid half her age was bullying her "-then to Tisha's then to me."

"Must've been hard."

"It was, but completely worth it."

Lena and I have talked long enough. Without another word, I walk away and outside to find Agnes sitting at the bottom of the porch steps. "Come on," I lean down and tap her shoulder. "Let's go talk to your aunt."