HIDING - every scar has a story

35. Cross my heart.

{Cary}

Cary had a crap sleep and not enough of it. He woke up early, too stiff and aching to fall back asleep. He made himself get up; if he moved around he might feel better. He went to the showers. It was so early no one else was up and the hot water went on and on, beating on his skin until he could have tipped against the tile and passed out from bliss.

One of the staff was in the common area, tidying up when Cary came in looking for a place to draw until breakfast. She flashed him a smile.

"Happy Easter. There's Easter eggs in the basket for everyone."

It was Sunday—Easter Sunday. Cary's face lifted in what was almost a smile back. He peeled the foil off a candy egg and went back to his room with the taste of chocolate in his mouth. He was going to see his mother today.

He had changed from his jacket into a clean sweater from his backpack when Leonard rolled over and rubbed his eyes. Cary frowned, wishing he had another pair of pants besides his green army cargos. He took his cash and his smokes out of his jacket and put them in his pants pockets.

"Where are you going?" Leonard asked.

"My mom's church service," Cary said.

Leonard sat up. "Can I come? I like church."

Cary hesitated, looking at him. Probably he would only see his mom for a minute and it wouldn't matter if Leonard was there. Jon White had taught him that it felt good to have a friend at your back. "Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Oh yeah, I do." Leonard jumped out of bed and rummaged through his locker. He held up a wrinkled button-down shirt and a string tie. "How's this?"

"Huh." Cary couldn't help laughing. "Yeah, okay."

Leonard did a little dance of joy between the bunks. He put the shirt on over the T-shirt he'd worn to bed, the one with pictures from the latest teen vampire movie. Cary had to re-do his buttons so they lined up over the preternaturally pale, pouting faces on the front. Leonard jiggled with impatience.

"You're worse than Jon's kid sisters." Cary muttered.

They were the only ones in the dining room for breakfast before wake up call. Leonard's excitement to have an outing was infectious. Cary could barely eat; his stomach was turning nervous flips. He hoped his mother had Liam with her. He wanted to look in his brother's face and know he was alright—that his little body mended too.

They got bus tickets for the short ride across old downtown. They were an hour too early for his mother's service and took a park bench to wait. Leonard jiggled for twenty minutes before he sagged against Cary's shoulder, exhausted.

"I'm just gonna sleep a minute, 'kay?" he mumbled.

Cary sat still, his eyes on the road his mother would drive up while Leonard drooled on his shoulder. He found words running in his head, over and over. Let them be okay. Let them be better now. Please Jesus. He didn't know where that left him and it hurt a lot, but maybe he could move through that pain if they were happy.

Her car didn't come. Couples and families in their Easter best went up the steps into the church, and Leonard sat up smacking his lips.

"Is it time? Cary, let's go in!"

Cary caught him back. "Wait."

She was there, coming up the street with her hair tucked under an elegant white hat, her lavender dress swinging as she walked. His father was beside her, Liam's car seat hefted on one thick arm.