Old Me

27 - His Fault

When we pulled up to my house, I realized that Michael was driving my car.

"Wait, shouldn't we have gone back to yours? We're in my car. How are you going to get home?"

"No, I texted Ash. He's coming to pick me up. He should be here soon," Mikey said touching my leg.

Just the small gesture sent tingles down my spine.

"Okay, well at least come wait inside."

"Okay, thanks," he said turning off the car and unbuckling his seat belt.

He raced around the front of the car to open my door for me and gave me his hand to help me out. We silently walked to the door and I unlocked it with the code.

I dropped my purse on the entryway bench and led him to the kitchen.

"Do you want food or something to drink?" I asked as we turned the corner.

"Bea? You're home. Oh- hi Michael," my mom said from the kitchen table.

She was eating dinner with my dad and Cat.

"Oh my God, Bea what happened?" She yelped speaking in Italian and rushing over to me to look at my arm.

"What, what happened?" My dad asked putting his fork down.

"Bea's arm is all bandaged," she said looking back at my dad.

My dad stood up and gave Michael a glaring look.

"Ma, its nothing. I'm fine," I said brushing her hands away from me.

"That's not nothing. What happened?" She said stroking my face.

"Move," he said scooting my mom over so he could get a look.

"I fell and cut my arm," I said vaguely.

"Is it his fault?" He shouted pulling me away from Michael.

"Dad it's not his fault. I fell," I said grabbing his arm as he approached Michael.

"If you hurt her I swear I'll kill you!" He shouted in Michael's face jabbing a finger into his chest.

Michael surprisingly stayed calm, but I feared what my dad would do, so I slipped in between them, standing in front of Michael. I gripped his forearms and stepped back so we were farther from my dad.

"I fainted, okay?" I shouted back at him.

"Wh-what?" He asked shocked, dropping his hand to his side.

"No," my mom said defeatedly.

"The cancer isn't back. I promise. The doctor said I'm anemic," I said more calmly.

"What? What doctor?" My dad asked.

"Dr. White," I answered.

I could feel Michael relax behind me and I released his arms creating space between us so our bodies were no longer touching.

"What?" My mom asked shocked," when did you go to the ER? Why didn't you call me?"

"I, I didn't want to worry you. Michael drove me there to get my arm looked at."

My dad still looked at him menacingly but didn't move.

"Are you sure?" My mom implored placing her arm on my dad's shoulder to calm him.

"Yes, look, I...hold on. I had them print the labs."

I moved around Michael and grabbed the paperwork from my purse.