Breaking

Chapter 37.

Arabella

A little over two weeks later...
Dad places the plate in front of me, and I gag a little. "She asked for it," dad says. "Now go. Take it to her."

"Please forgive them," I whisper, picking up the plate. Rabbit three ways, apparently, Brenda's been craving it all morning. I can barely bring myself to eat a hamburger, how can anyone eat rabbits?

I carry the plate down the hall and to dad's room where Brenda is bed rested. She smiles when she sees me. "You're green."

"For a reason too." I quickly hand her the plate and take a few steps back, swallowing back the throw-up that threatens to escape.

"Can you thank them for their sacrifice for me?"

I nod. "Can I ask?"

"I'm feeling better today. Thank you, love."

Asking how she's feeling every day can be annoying, so I ask if I can ask instead. She finds it funny and a little refreshing. I'm glad. The last thing I want to do is annoy her. This way I know how she's feeling.

"Arabella!" Dad calls from down the hall. "¡Tu tío está aquí!"

"I have to go!" I approach her again and kiss the top of her head. I'm always afraid to touch her anywhere else. "I'll see you tomorrow. Feel better!" I jog out of the room and snatch my bag off the floor as I pass it.

Dad and Patrick are standing by the open front door. Patrick smile when he sees me, then he pulls me in for a tight hug. "Hey, kid."

"Hola, tío." He takes my bag from me as I pull away and turn to dad. "Call me if anything."

"You'll be the first to know," papa promises. "Come here." He yanks me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, and kisses the top of my head. "I love you, baby girl, more than anything, you hear me?"

I try to nod. "Yes, papa. I love you too."

He squeezes me before releasing me. "Call me when you get there and before you go to bed."

I nod. "Okay."

When Brenda was released from the hospital, papa had the brilliant idea to send me to Patrick's every night. I love my tía and tío but I hate leaving my dad and Brenda. I dread it every day. But it was my dad's wish and I couldn't argue. How could I after everything that happened to him?

"We should go," Patrick says.

"Yep," I reluctantly agree, then I follow him outside. We're halfway across the path when I jump on his back.

Patrick groans. "You're tiny but heavy."

"Hey!" I hit his shoulder, causing him to laugh. "Maybe you're just weak."

"Oh yeah? Maybe that's how we should spend our time together; training. Show me a few boxing moves." We approach his car and he puts me down. He opens the door, helps me inside, and places my bag on my lap. But he doesn't close the door. Instead, he glances back at the house and peers down at me again, and I know he's about to say something. "I know you hate coming to stay with us."

"I don't-"

"It's okay. I understand why."

"Hate is too strong of a word."

"Right...but I'm serious about training. Whatever you want to do to clear your mind, I'm up for it."

I nod, lowering my gaze to my hands on my bag. "Thank you."

He steps back and closes the door. I trace the lines on my palm as he climbs into the driver's seat. "Okay," he sighs, reaching behind my seat. He pulls out what looks like a pencil case and holds it out in front of me. "If you need a break from boxing and volleyball."