Call Me Crazy by Quinn Loftis
Chapter 21
“Life is so fleeting, and so unpredictable. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring and there is no guarantee that tomorrow will even come. And when the cycle of life hits so close to home, that uncertainty becomes a constant ache in the back of my mind. For one person I love, death creeps in and I wonder how much time I have left with her. And for another person I love, life begins to fill her eyes and I wonder how much time I will be given with her. It is in times such as these that I long for certainty, for something set in stone.” ~Trey
I watch her as she walks towards me through the crowded halls. I hadn’t wanted her to go off by herself, but she insisted that I wait for her at her locker, because she just had to run something to Natalie and she would be right back. But, the truth is I still do not trust these vultures not to hurt her. They may have backed off for now, but they are circling, waiting for the moment when she is unprotected. I know I can’t shelter her from everything, but I will do my damndest to shelter her from what I can.
Her eyes meet mine and never waver as she continues forward. She doesn’t look left or right, because she has no one to talk to, no one to wave at or exchange pleasantries with, and for that I am sorry. I feel my lips turn up into a smile without even thinking about it. That is what she brings me, and when she returns my smile with her own, I feel a rightness settle in my bones.
“Ready?” I ask, as she reaches me. I reach out for her hand and she gives it to me without hesitation.
“Yep,” she answers.
She seems a little subdued today and has for the past two days. I decide to attribute it to nerves over me meeting her parents tonight. I want to ask her if she is all right, but I don’t want to make her feel as though I’m waiting for her to crumble.
We ride in relative silence on the way to her house, but she holds my hand in both of hers, drawing circles across the top of it with one of her fingers. Her grip is not tight, yet I feel as if she is reaching for my hand like a lifeline, so I don’t let go.
“Does it seem like time tends to speed up every day?” She asks, as I turn onto her street.
“Yes,” I answer, with full understanding of what she means.
“I mean two days passed in the blink of an eye.”
“Are you nervous about me meeting your parents Tally?” I finally dare to ask.
Her mouth twitches and her eyes narrow, as she thinks about her answer.
“Maybe a little,” she admits.
“Are you worried about what they will think of me?”
“I don’t care what they think of you.” The honesty in her voice relaxes a part of me that I hadn’t realized had been tense over her answer.
“I just have no idea how they will act. I’ve never brought a guy home and they are so rarely home that I don’t really feel like I know them.”
I pull into her driveway and cut the engine. We sit, staring at the monstrosity that is her house, and though I am not worried about meeting her parents, I feel the tension radiating off of her and have to force myself to keep from starting the engine and driving away from the source of her stress. I never claimed to be rational when it comes to Tally, but even I surprise myself sometimes by my reactions to things regarding her.
“You got this Baker,” I tell her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. I pull away and get out of my truck. When I open the passenger door, I take a step towards her to keep her from climbing out. I take her face in my hands and kiss her gently. I run my fingers across her jaw and pull back to look at her. “We got this.”
She nods at me and takes a deep, steadying breath. When I see the tension leave her shoulders, I move back so that she has room to get out. I take her hand and walk with her up to the front door. It opens before she can reach for the handle.
“Hello.” A thin woman of average height, with chin length blonde hair smiles at us. Her eyes are a startling green, but her smile is warm and genuine. I can see the resemblance between she and Tally though Tally isn't as tall and her eyes are blue.
“Hi mom,” Tally answers with her own smile. “This is Trey,” she motions towards me, “Trey this is my mom Paige Baker.”
I take her outstretched hand and note how much smaller it is than mine. I’m mindful of how hard I squeeze. I shake it gently and smile, “It’s very nice to meet you Mrs. Baker.”
“And, you as well, Trey. Please call me Paige.”
“Thank you,” I say and follow Tally in as Paige steps aside for us to enter.
I try to appear as if I haven't been inside their home, since I am not sure if Tally has told them that, I came over. So, I smile and nod when her mom points out the rooms that are downstairs and the ones upstairs. We follow her down a hall and into a large dining room. A man, I presume is Tally’s dad, is standing with his back to us looking out a large window. He is sipping from a glass of amber liquid and seems to be lost in thought.
“Dear,” Paige says warmly, “Tally and Trey are here.”
Mr. Baker turns and smiles at Tally, it’s genuine, but strained. He is shorter than me by at least four or five inches, putting him around 5’11”. He strides confidently towards us and holds out his hand to me.
“I’m Frank Baker, Tally’s father.”
“Trey Swift sir,” I respond as I shake his hand, with considerably more strength than with Paige. His eyes are the same gray blue as Tally’s and his features are what most, I assume, would consider classically handsome. His hair, though salt and pepper in color is still full and thick on his head and his face is chiseled, with a strong jaw, though lined with some wrinkles, they only add to his good looks. As her parents stand side by side in front of us, I see that Tally is a perfect blend of both of them, as if she was given all the best features from the two.
“It’s nice to meet you Trey, thank you for accepting out invitation to dinner,” he says, as he lets go of my hand. I decide, at this point that since neither of them has made comment on my hair or jewelry that Tally must have explained to them of my heritage.
“Have a seat everyone, everything is already on the table and ready to eat.” Paige tells us, as she points to the long table that is loaded with more food than the four of us could eat in a day, let alone one sitting.
Tally grabs my hand and leads me over to the table. I pull out her chair and she gives me a look that says suck up. I shrug and wink at her.
When we are all seated, Paige points out what each tray or bowl contains. I make sure to take a little of everything and can’t help but notice how little of nothing Tally puts on her plate. I glance at her and when I catch her eye, I frown and nod towards her plate. She shrugs and goes back to moving what little food there is around with her fork.
“So, are you a senior this year as well Trey?” Mr. Baker asks.
“Yes sir, that’s correct.”
“Isn’t it hard starting your last year of high school at a new school?” Paige asks.
I nod as I swallow down a bite of steak. “A little I suppose, but I have a lot going on, so school is just one more thing I have to cross off my list in my day.”
“Oh?” Mr. Baker says, looking interested, “What do you have going on that’s more important than school?”
“Dad,” Tally jumps in. I lay my hand on her leg, a silent message that all is well.
“I live with my grandmother and so I take care of anything she needs, I have a job, and I take care of my mother.” I explain.
“Are they sick?” he asks.
“My mother is,” I take a sip of my water and swallow before continuing, “that is how I met Tally actually.” I feel her foot come down hard on mine, but I was prepared for it. I figure she hasn't informed her parents that we met while she was in the hospital. I decide that I need to see for myself exactly what their reaction was to her being in the mental hospital.
“My mother is a patient at Mercy, that’s where I met Tally, one day when I was visiting my mom.” The table is silent when I finish. My knife grates against the plate sounding ab
“Tally didn’t mention that Mercy is where she met you,” Mr. Baker grates out.
“Well, you guys didn’t really ask me about my time at Mercy, so it’s not like it came up,” Tally glares at her father. Mr. Baker glances at me and then looks at Tally.
“That isn’t the point Tally. You made us think that you met Trey at school.”
“I did meet him at school, just not for the first time.”
I watch as his jaw tenses and can tell that Mr. Baker is about to lose the calm control that he has been holding onto for quite some time.
“I imagine it must be a tough thing having your daughter be in a psychiatric hospital,” I interject. “I know that it has been tough for me with my mom being there.”
“It is one thing for a grown woman to be in need of help, it is an entirely different matter for a perfectly happy seventeen year old girl to need help,” Mr. Baker tells me, eyes flashing with irritation and what I would guess is fear.
“How would you know if I’m perfectly happy?” Tally nearly yells as her fork falls clashing against her plate. “You are never around to know if I’m happy or not. You can’t possibly tell me that you think that you know me or know what I feel when you don’t even bother to ask.”
Tally slides her chair back and the scraping of the feet against the floor causes Paige to flinch.
“Mom, thank you for dinner, but I seem to have lost my appetite.” Without looking at me, she leaves the table and a moment later, I hear the front door slam closed.
Mr. Baker is staring in the direction Tally has gone and Paige is staring at her plate. I see the slight tremble in her lips and know that she is on the verge of tears.
“I should go check on her,” I say, as I stand. “Paige, thank you for the meal it was lovely. Mr. Baker, it was nice to meet you.”
“I don’t think you are the best thing for Tally,” Mr. Baker suddenly says, as I am turning to go.
I have to clench my jaw shut before I say something that will only get me thrown out of their house. I turn back slowly and pull myself up to my full height.
“May I ask why?” I ask as calmly as I can.
“Because, she doesn’t need to be around people with your kind of problems, she needs to be moving forward, moving on with her life, and you will simply be a reminder of what she went through.”
“Frank,” Paige whispers, fervently.
He ignores her.
“I can understand your worry for your daughter,” I tell him honestly, “but I think it is the wrong kind of worry. What you should be worried about it is whether or not she has the support she needs in order to cope with her emotions. Just because you don’t want her to have, bipolar disorder isn’t going to make it go away. Tally needs anyone who can understand what she is going through and is willing to stick with her even when things are hard. I would think that as her parent you would want that for her.” I know I’ve probably crossed a boundary somewhere in that statement, but I don’t care. I don’t care if he’s her father, he hurt her, and that isn't acceptable to me.
“I think that you need to stay away from Tally and worry about your own problems, you seem to have enough of your own without adding Tally’s to them.”
“Tally is not a problem!” I snap. “She’s a woman who needs her parents to love her through this crap, not in spite of it.” I turn once again to go and just as I enter the hall I turn back one more time, “And, with all due respect Mr. Baker, I will not stop seeing your daughter.”
~
I find her sitting in my truck. Tears are streaming down her flushed cheeks as she silently stares up at her house. I climb in and start the engine, and without saying anything, I back out of her driveway.
It’s nearly ten minutes before she finally speaks.
“Where are we going?”
“I want you to meet my grandmother,” I tell her.
She groans and frantically begins to wipe her cheeks.
“Don’t you think we’ve had enough introductions for one night?”
“You will like her, and she will adore you.”
Tally looks out her window, and then looks back at me. I can feel her eyes on me, searching for something.
“Your dad doesn’t want me to see you anymore.” I half expect her to start ranting, but then half of the time she does the opposite of what I expect, so I just wait.
“What did you say in response?” She asks me cautiously.
It’s in moments like these that I see just how vulnerable Tally is. She’s looking for acceptance, for approval and the two people she needs it most from have not given it to her.
“I told him I would not stop seeing you.”
I pull into the driveway of my small house, only now realizing just how small it is after leaving the McMansion that Tally lives in. But it doesn’t bother me, and for some reason I know it’s not going to bother her either.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I put the truck in park and turn the engine off. When I turn to look at her, I expect to see her looking down at her hands or out the window, anywhere but at me. But she is, she’s looking straight at me and her eyes are earnest, desperate for any small sign of possible rejection.
I slide over and cup her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper, so close that my lips brush hers. I feel the heat of her breath on my face and can’t stand the separation any longer. I lean towards her and press my lips to hers. What starts out as a sweet kiss, quickly turns into something more. Both of my hands are in her hair, my fingers running through the strands and pulling her tighter to me. I release her hair and my hands slide down to her waist. I lift her and pull her into my lap until she’s straddling me. I feel her chest rise and fall against mine and find satisfaction in knowing that she is breathing just as rapidly as I am. Our tongues dance and I tug on her lip with my teeth when I feel her hands slip up my shirt, the warmth of her skin seeps into my chest.
“Trey,” she whispers, pleadingly against my neck. I pull her closer, kiss her neck, and down to her collar bone. Her head falls back, and her body goes limp with desire. I can’t take my eyes off of her. I watch as her eyes flutter open, and the longing I see in the blue gray swirl of her irises is like a punch to my gut.
“Tally, I love you.” The words leave my lips before I know what I’m doing, and then I’m pulling her mouth to mine again. I’m lost, lost in her scent, her taste, and the feel of her body in my hands. Her shirt inches up as she wraps her arms around my neck and I let my hands slip under, wrapping them around her rib cage. She feels so small, so incredibly fragile. My thumbs rub gently against her soft flesh, and when I feel one of them brush the bottom of her bra, I know it’s time to stop. I slowly pull my hands from her shirt and tug her shirt back down. I pull back from her incredible mouth and we’re both breathless.
“I’m calling the game baby,” I tell her, with a small smile.
“Too much?” She grins.
I give her backside a gentle slap, “Wicked woman.” She slides off my lap and adjusts her clothes.
I let out a deep breath and climb out of the truck to open her door. As she takes my hand she smiles up at me, “I love you too by the way.”
I feel my heart swell and take up every inch of space in my chest. Words are stuck in my throat, and all I can do is squeeze her hand. We walk hand in hand up to my front door, which I open, stepping back so that she can enter before me.
“Shichu,” I call out, as we enter the living room. “I’ve brought someone to meet you.”
I hear her clattering around in the kitchen and tug Tally to follow me. My grandmother is leaned over, her head buried in a cabinet as she searches for something. Finally, she stands up and looks over her shoulder at us. Her eyes land on Tally and brighten a
“Ahh,” she says, coming over in front of Tally and taking her hands. “You are the beautiful soul that has stolen Trey’s heart.”
“Grandmother,” I chide as I watch the blush creep up Tally’s neck and cheeks.
“I think it would be more correct to say that he has stolen my heart,” Tally smiles. “I’m Tally Baker.”
“It’s very nice to meet you finally Tally Baker, I am Bly.” My grandmother holds her hands a minute more before releasing them. “Now, I just finished making a blackberry pie, would you two like to join me?”
I glance down at Tally as she smiles, “That sounds great.”
“So you and Trey are in school together,” my grandmother says, as she sits down after dishing us all a plate of her blackberry pie.
“Yes ma’am,” Tally answers, and then takes a bite, “Hmm, wow this is incredible,” she says around the mouth full.
“It’s an old family recipe, I’m glad that you like it.” There’s silence for a few minutes, as we all eat our pie. My grandmother sets her fork down looking thoroughly satisfied, and then looks at Tally.
“You have met Trey’s mother?” She asks her.
Tally nods, “Yes ma’am. She was very,” Tally pauses and glances at me, and then back to my grandmother, “straight forward.”
My grandmother and I both chuckle.
“That sounds like my daughter,” Bly tells her. “She must have been having a good day.”
I glance down at my plate, my jaw tenses, as I think about how long it has been since my mother has had a good day, it’s been too long.
“How do you like Broken Arrow?” Tally asks.