Aurora - A New Dawn

CHAPTER 12 | RAPPORT

Jake placed his hand on Embry's left shoulder, freeing him from the vicious cycle of his thoughts.

"Hey man," he uttered, squeezing his trapezius muscle, "you gonna be alright?"

"Not really, Jake." A frustrated sigh tumbled from Embry's parted lips. "I feel like it's my fault. If I hadn't spent less and less time at home, she mi—"

—"Bry. Stop. Don't blame yourself." Quil laced his fingers with Embry's and squeezed, leaning his head on his other shoulder. "We know mom, and this isn't her. The drinking isn't because of you."

"Quil's right. Tiff has her own reasons, I'm sure, but she wouldn't have chose this path if she wasn't suffering," Jake added. "Sue's an amazing nurse and Joy will keep her company while she detoxes. She's gonna get better."

Embry still didn't seem convinced; lost behind his eyes, captive to his anxiety, shackled in its merciless hold.

"Y-yeah, I s'pose." His eyebrows knitted together while he sucked his bottom lip under his top front teeth, thoughtfully nibbling it. Scattered memories of his childhood dwelled underneath the surface of his emotion riddled mask.

His mom, tucking him into bed, petting his raven hair, kissing his forehead, and singing goodnight by Makah lullaby. His mom, attending every little league soccer game he had, insanely proud of her shy little boy. His mom, pinning every straight A report card to the fridge, bragging to everyone within ear shot.

He remembered seeing her standing over a sink full of salmon, de-boning and stripping the meat off them, the pungent smell of fish and cut lemon permeating the air, singing with him to classic rock songs on the radio next to the window ledge. The way she'd chase him barefoot down the hall and tickle him before tucking him in for bedtime.

Tiffany Call, not defined by the addiction that plagued her, but instead, defined by her love for her son. Even now, as alcoholism ravaged her mind and body, eroded it, destroyed it—she cared more about Embry than herself.

She was almost never home between driving over an hour both ways, picking up overtime shifts, and taking on temporary odd jobs. As a mom, she did everything she could to put food on the table. Over the years, she only maintained her full time job as a waitress. Tiff started working at a restaurant called Bob's just outside of Port Angeles when she was eighteen.

Eighteen. Everything changed in the summer of 1990; Tiffany had a routine of hopping multiple bars that night, partying it up after a Deaf Cat concert. She went home with a handsome stranger, crashing on their couch like usual. Back then, her drinking was solely under the guise of having fun. It was fun. She was young, naive, and wild with her heels, leather pants, and cropped band tees.

Eighteen—when she got knocked up—easy prey to a smooth-talkin' man in his late thirties with beautiful eyes. The long lashes that encircled his burnt cedar and honey flecked irises held her in a trance. He introduced himself as Joshua. It wasn't until he skipped town weeks later, unknowingly carrying his unborn baby, that she heard the truth. Someone in passing mentioned his reputation; Joshua Uley was a man-whore. He had kids everywhere across the Olympic peninsula.

Tiffany Call, unphased by the news of being a single mother or what her child's father was, was floored to learn Embry had a half brother in La Push. She tried to reach out to Sam Uley's mother, Allison, but that woman didn't want to deal with her child let alone knowing there were another. She up and bolted, abandoning Sam to fend for himself when he was fifteen. Years later, after Embry phased, Quil Ateara III explained to Tiffany that Joshua Uley had died, suspecting he was Embry's sire.