These Gentle Wounds by Helene Dunbar Page A

handle him spinning off somewhere, because then who would be here to bring me back? I’ve never really thought about the possibility that it could work in reverse.
    He turns and I can see from his eyes that he’s really here. I exhale as he asks, “You win tonight?”
    I nod. “Yeah. Shutout. But I think Cody Bowman might get suspended for an illegal hit.”
    Normally that news would bring a smile to his face, but Kevin doesn’t really react. “I have to talk to you about something.” His low and breathy voice gives away his stress.
    The snake in my stomach coils tighter.
    â€œYour dad … ”
    He really couldn’t have chosen two worse words to start a sentence. That alone makes me want to be somewhere else instead of listening to anything about my father that has Kevin this upset. I push against the wall and feel it press against each vertebrae through the soft fabric of my T-shirt. If I push hard enough, maybe I’ll come out on the other side, where I can walk through the air and breathe without this horrible pressing feeling in my chest. Without my stomach spinning around like a carnival ride.
    â€œIce?” Kevin grips my bare leg hard enough that I can’t spin off even though I sort of want to. His fingers dig into me like a vice. “We can do this in the morning if you want. I shouldn’t have woken you.”
    I want to say that yes, we should put this off, but I know I’ll never get back to sleep without knowing. “No. Tell me.”
    I hold my breath and wait for words I’m pretty sure I don’t want to hear. It’s like I can feel every molecule of air that’s jostling inside me for space. I hold them all in until it hurts my lungs and I’m slightly dizzy. It isn’t until I exhale that Kevin finishes his sentence.
    â€œHe didn’t sell the old house. He’s back. He’s living there.”
    Everything freezes. Everything. Time itself shuts down. I didn’t think anything could be worse than having to see him, but they will have to tie me up and drag me there to get me into that house. And even then, I promise that it will only be my body that makes an appearance because I, the part that is me, am not going to set foot in that house ever again.
    Even after That Day, I didn’t go back. Kevin and Jim went and got my stuff. We all assumed he’d sold the house. I thought he’d be in California, or the Antarctic, or on the moon by now. Not one person ever said to me that they thought he’d keep the property. That he’d live here ever again.
    Kevin squeezes my leg, hard enough this time that I might have a bruise tomorrow.
    â€œStay with me,” he says.
    If I cross the threshold of the door to that house, I’m going to drown like Mom wanted me to.
    Kevin’s fingers chain me. I try to pull away, but I can’t. There’s no way he’s going to let me out of this conversation now.
    â€œWhat’s going to happen?” Even to me, my voice sounds shaky and broken. Fuck.
    Kevin takes my question literally. “He’s coming over here tomorrow to talk to Jim.”
    I jerk hard and my leg pulls away from under his hand.
    It’s amazing how many different kinds of silence there are. I mean, the room is totally quiet. Kevin is, I think, holding his breath, waiting to see how I’m going react. And I’m listening, listening, listening, to see if anything makes sense. But all I hear is stuff from outside, like a distant car alarm and a bird that must be blind or something and doesn’t know it’s night because it’s screaming right outside the window.
    And then Kevin’s voice comes blazing through it all. “My dad promised you wouldn’t have to see him while he’s here. But it’s good they’re dealing with this head-on, right?”
    I know Kevin is trying to make this better. And maybe he’s even right, but it’s like someone