Road Trip Home: Two

Wednesday Afternoon, 12:42pm

Angie's POV
As dad pulls the van into the church parking lot I feel sick. The world starts to spin just as we come to a stop.
I move to the door, but before I can go anywhere I lose my balance and fall. Mark is at my side in an instant, trying to help me up, but I push him away.
"Get away from me." I whisper.
"What?" He asks as I pull myself to my feet.
"I said, get away from me! How could you do this to me? It was your idea to come here! What were you thinking? I thought I could trust you!" I turn to face Dad, because he knew too. "You said you'd protect me from this place, and I believed you!" My breath is coming in short bursts. I need to run, I need to think. "I guess I was wrong."
I turn away and start running. Where I'm going? I don't know. But I run. "Angie! Angie come back here!" I hear Mom yelling, and I know Liza will come after me. She's never lost her track star speed; there's no way I'll be able to out run her.
I turn and go around the building, not stopping until I'm right in front of the plastic monstrosity referred to as "the tree". Because that was it used to look like, and it still does . . . kind of. Huge, above ground, plastic roots created places to play or hide, while three swings hung from the tallest limbs-which were now only a few feet above my head. Just above that sat the clubhouse, with a rope ladder leading up to the whole from which the trap door had long since gone missing.
"Angie, hey!" I hear Liza behind me, so I grab the ladder and climb up, swaying all the way. I only just manage to pull it up and out of her reach as she reaches the bottom of the tree.
"Angie, come down from there." She calls, looking up at me
"Liza please, I just need a few minutes." I yell down.
"What happened? What's wrong? Please tell me."
I lay back and muffle a scream with my hands. "Your idiot husband, that's the problem!"
She just chuckles, "You're gonna have to be more specific sis."
I roll over and hold my head over the hole. "He brought me back to the place of my real-life nightmare. Liza, why would he do this!"
"Maybe he didn't know?" It's phrased more like a question than a statement.
I shake my head, "No, he knew. He had to know. Why else would he keep it secret from everyone but Dad?"
She sighs. "Ya know what? You're right! My husband can be a bit of an idiot at times, and I don't know why he brought you here. But since you ARE here, maybe you should get your butt down here and face whatever it is he thought important enough to warrant bringing you."
"It's not that simple sis!"
"Isn't it?"
I know she's right, but I'm having a lot of trouble accepting it. "Liza, you know the situation. You know what I went though-you had to deal with it too. Can you honestly say that you would face your mom if in my position?"
She's silent for several moments, probably realizing the truth. That this wretched town is where I was born. And the place I was relieved to be taken away from b
"Do you remember that trip I took, right before the wedding?"
"How could I forget? You disappeared for three days and scared mom half to death. Why?"
She sighs and sits down, leaning against the tree to look up at me. "I went to my moms funeral." She finally says.
"What? Liza I. . .I'm So sorry."
"Don't be. I didn't know her-not the real her anyway. I got to meet her kids. All of them were under 12, and couldn't stop talking about how she was an amazing mom. A great mommy. They asked me why I was never around, luckily they were young enough that I was able to feed them some bull about me being a grown up. Their dad thanked me for not ruining their memory of her, but he did ask for my story later; I spared him no detail. He gave me a letter she wrote about a month before she died. I didn't read it until after the funeral. When everyone had left the graveside I sat down as close to the open grave as was permissible and read. The letter was an apology. I cried, and screamed, and I may or may not have uttered a few choice words that I'd wanted to before I became a Christian. I know that the people waiting to fill the grave thought I was crazy. . .but surely they'd seen worse before.
"Angie, I wasn't mad about the letter. I kept it, and it's with a few of our wedding things. I was mad that I never got to confront her. I was mad that I never got to yell and scream, or show her the damage she'd done to me. I didn't get the chance to show her that I turned out great, despite the living. . .despite the existence I knew with her. I was angry because I would never get the chance to know her-really know her. To offer forgiveness, or to know if she even cared enough to want it.
"Sis, you have to face him. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life harboring bitterness, hate, and fear?"
I roll over again and press my hands to my eyes, pushing my glasses up on my head. "Liza, you don't get it! You chose to go; you didn't have people you trust betray you by-"
"Angie, no one has betrayed you. No one is going to tie you to a chair and force you to see him. But I think you deserve that chance to yell. You deserve the chance to scream at him and tell him how much he screwed up your life. And then you get to tell him how you're working on being ok. How you have a chance at a normal life now-no thanks to him. Sis, just come down and we'll talk. On my life, I'll hurt him if he tries to talk to you before you're ready."
We both almost laugh at this, but only because it's true. "I'm scared Li" I confess.
"I know you are, and you have every right to be. But you have faced so much. . .I know you can do this."
I sigh, and a minute later I lower the ladder and climb down. "There" Liza wraps me in a hug, "the first step is always the hardest."
I shrug and we turn to walk. Halfway to the door though the stinging in my knee becomes too noticeable to ignore; I look down to see a small streak of blood starting just above my knee and making its way down to mid calf. "Umm...oww" Liza says when she notices. "Is that from when you fell out of the van?"
I nod, "I guess so."
She keeps me walking "Lets get you back, mom will take care of that."
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Chars POV
I tried to run after Liza, but William stopped me. "We need to talk" he'd said. But we haven't had a chance. He's been too busy talking to Mark and his friend.
Instead of dragging him away, I decide to focus my attention on getting Krystal, Andrew, and the kids to unload the trailer.
We had just pulled everyone's personal bags when I see Liza and Angie walking towards the door. I run to catch up with them.
 "Are you alright?" I ask, following them in.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a scratch." Angie says; that's when I notice the blood.
"Oh Angie, we need to go get that cleaned up." I say as I start to search my bag for the small first aid kit I always keep.
"I need to talk to Mark." Liza says before walking back outside. I'm slightly surprised when she comes back, practically dragging her husband, as she leads him through a set of swinging doors.
"What exactly was that about?" I ask as Angie and I make our way to the bathroom.
"Give you three guesses." She mumbles.
I sigh, "Right." Lord help me. "So. . .can I assume this is where you used to live?"
She sits down on the floor-reminding me of a small child-and flinches when I spray the scrape. "Home sweet home." She mutters. 
I put a small bandage on her knee and then sit on the ground beside her. "Baby girl, please talk to me. What happened when we got here? What. . .happened here that has you so scared?"
She shakes her head. "I can't. Just . . . From the first day I was with you I could see the heartbreak in your eyes when you thought about my life in foster care. You had the records, I saw them. So before you read far enough to see where I was from. . .I burned them. I took the records of my hometown, my home life, my parents. . .and I destroyed them. I couldn't stand to see the look in your eyes when you found out the truth about...about why I was taken away. Not if it was anything like what I saw the days you looked at the records of my time in the system. Or when I had flashbacks.
"But I regretted the decision the moment I saw where we we're. You didn't know, how could you? It was my best kept secret. But being back? I panicked. I wanted to run all the way back home."
I don't know what to say, so I'm quiet as I place a small Band-Aid over the cut. I see a mark higher on her knee, and wonder if it's scraped there too. I roll up the hem of her shorts just a few centimeters before she stops my hand. But she's too late. "Angie. . .what are-"
"Nothing." She cuts me off a little too quickly. "Nothing but a reminder of my past." She looks hurt, and with a sinking feeling I begin to understand why. I brush my finger over the few that I can see.
When I look up I see two beautiful eyes filled with tears. She closes them and the tears fall. I cup her face in my hands and wipe each tear with my thumb. "Angie Rose" I whisper, "you tell me right now where those marks came from." My voice shakes at the pain that I clearly see in her eyes.
"I can't." It comes out as barely a whisper as she attempts to look down. I don't let her.
"Angie please" I beg, even though I'm fearful of the answer. "Did you. . .did you do this?"
She nods as more tears escape. I pull her into my arms and hold her tight, wishing that I could take away the pain that she's feeling. The pain that caused her to hurt herself in such a way. As she cries-as we cry-I rock her back and forth trying to calm her. "Shhh it's ok. You're ok baby. You're ok. You're ok."
After several minutes she finally takes a deep breath and pulls away. She wipes her face, and I do the same. As she pulls her glasses back over her eyes I whisper. "I love you so much Angie."
"Oh gosh mom." She almost laughs. "Please don't make me cry again."
I push a curl behind her ear and hold it there for a moment. "Baby please-"
"Stop. Please. Mom I can't, ok? Not yet. If I'm going to explain this, I'm gonna explain everything. I just need time to think. Soon, I promise."
Soon? When would that be? "Angie-"
"Mom. Please. . ." Her eyes hold so much fear; I never thought that I would be the cause of it.
I nod, "Go, help them unload. But tell your father I need to talk with him."
She half smiles "Thanks mom. And I wasn't kidding-soon. I promise."
I nod, earning the look I know all too well. She knows I'm thinking, but she doesn't know what.
She stands to leave, and a moment later William is standing in front of me, looking a little awkward to be standing in the entrance of the woman's bathroom. "Angie said you wanted to tell me something?"
I take a deep breath and whisper. "What were you thinking?"
"What?"
"What were you thinking? Bringing Angie here What reason could you possibly have for bringing her here? You told her you'd protect her; you're her father-"
"I'm not her father though Char."
I'm so taken aback by his words that I don't know how to respond. Sadly though, I don't get a chance. I hear a shriek from the hallway and immediately think the worst-either Angie heard him, or her father has shown up.
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Liza's POV
I drag Mark into the dark sanctuary and cross my arms. "Explain. Now." I say through clenched teeth.
He looks at me, confused, then almost frightened. Several moments pass in silence before he speaks. "I met Jason about a year ago at a speech competition for school. We placed very close and were in the same division the whole week. We became friends, and added each other on Facebook when we got home. Last month, he saw that picture you tagged me and Angie in. The throwback to Christmas when we were goofing off while working on sets. He couldn't believe it, and asked me how I knew her. He almost had a heart attack when I told him she's my sister-in-law.
"Your dad walked in on our Skype call, wondering why we were talking about Angie. Jason explained who he was and how her knew her-"
"Wait." I stop him. So far he's done nothing but confuse me even more. "Who exactly is Jason?"
"If you'd have waited half a minute before dragging me in here, I'd have introduced you. He was Angie's best friend when she was little. Apparently she still writes him every month or so. And he would never admit it-mostly because he's about three years older-but he seems to be completely smitten by our Angie."
I choose to ignore the last comment. It's something I can examine later. "Okay. . .how does that correlate with anything? Why are we here?"
"Like I was saying. . ." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. "Jason told William how he knew Angie, but he also told him something else. For the past five years Sean Leland-her dad-has fought to stay sober. He's working in the church-I guess it's a real turn around from the man he used to be. I think Jason even said he was working on his fourth year without a drink. But. . .he's also dying.
"Stage 4 cancer in his liver, stage 2 in his lungs. The doctors said that there isn't much they can do-he has maybe six months. That's why Jason asked me to bring Angie here. He says that Sean's only wish is to see his daughter again. To have a chance to tell her how sorry he is for what he put her through. He doesn't even expect to be forgiven. . .he just wants to talk to her."
I'm speechless. Her dad is dying? "You. . .your brought her here to fulfill a dying mans last wish." I say
"Yes." He smiles at me and takes my hands. "Liza we didn't bring her here to torment her, or to force her to do something that she doesn't want to do. We brought her here to have a chance at offering forgiveness." He rubs his hands up and down my arms. A very calming gesture. "I saw you after your moms funeral. I know that this is something she needed to do. And I know that disputed your first instinct to protect her. . .you know that she needs to do this. You want her to."
I shake my head and try to blink back the tears that fill my eyes. "My husband." I mumble. "The sweetest, most thoughtful idiot I've ever met."
He laughs. "Hey, now."
"I'm serious." I almost laugh too. "You really should have talked to her first. But. . .thank you for bringing her here." I stand on my tip toes and kiss him. I feel him grin, but the moment when I hear a scream. Angie's scream.
We share a worried look before running out of the sanctuary.