WAKE (Wattpad edition)

62. We are the same (trial day).

Soundtrack: 'He woke me up again' - Sufjan Stevens.

{Pete}

Pete slept more soundly than he had in weeks, waking up early and refreshed. He stood at the kitchen sink, listening to the coffeemaker rumble and watching the sunrise over the garage roof. Wordlessly, Pete began to lift up his thank yous: for this sunrise, for Jon standing in his kitchen, looking in his face and letting his dad see all of him, for both boys safe in their beds, for provision of a new home, for release from a pastoring role that had become painful and impossible, and for the graceful, determined partnering of his wife. The coffee maker was quiet before he was done. He'd never asked for half these things, and yet he found they were exactly the gifts he needed right now.

He made pancakes even though it was a school day, turning them, steaming and golden, onto his children's plates as they came into the kitchen for breakfast. It had been a long time since their table had been so raucous with the children's happy voices and laughter. Even Jon joined in. Only Cary was quiet, pushing his plate away with most of his breakfast uneaten. Pete set a cup of coffee in front of him, heavy on the milk and sugar, and Cary met his eyes for a second, his thank you silent but plain in his face.

The tone of the morning changed when the girls had gone to their bus stop, tension thickening the air. Mel fussed over the collar of Cary's shirt above the sweater he was borrowing from Pete.

Jon hugged Cary once, hard. "You got this," he said, low. Cary nodded, his face pale and set. "This is the right thing to do for your mom, and it's the right thing to do for your brother." Jon sounded like he was reassuring himself as well as Cary.

Cary was still, then retreated into his room and came out with a folded photograph that was dog-eared with age. He cleared his throat and showed it to Mel first. "This is my sister." His voice was soft, and Pete hoped he would be able to speak up in the courtroom. "Renae. And me when we were kids. She died when her heart stopped working."

"Oh, she's beautiful, Cary," Mel said. "I think she's with you today."

Cary put the picture to his lips and then slipped it into the pocket of his dress shirt, over his heart. Mel straightened his sweater again, and Cary took her hand to still her anxious motion, touching her eyes with his for a second. Pete drew a breath, feeling his heart expand as he watched that tiny exchange. "Ready," Cary said, looking to Pete.

"We'll be here when it's over," Jon said. Pete gave Jon a smile as Cary put on his shoes, proud of the way his son was standing with his friend. Jon gave him a nod in return, like he felt the same.

Cary took a breath, like he was about to swim underwater for a great distance and wasn't sure when he would be able to come up for air again.

///

In the court building, they walked Cary to the area designated for witnesses to wait. Cary seemed to have gone deep inside himself, although Pete was glad to note that his breathing was even and his hands were steady. There was a spark of colour high in his cheeks as he glanced up at the vaulted ceilings and panelled walls. Whatever work his counsellor had done with him to manage his panic seemed to be working.

"You won't have to wait long," Pete said. "You're up first today."

Cary met his eyes and Pete was startled. The anger flashing in his face made him look uncannily like the man who had arrived on Pete's doorstep months ago to haul his son back home. "See you in there," he said, his voice edged and rough.

Pete and Mel found seats within plain view of the witness box, but Cary didn't look at them at all during the first half of his testimony. He kept his eyes pinned on the paunchy lawyer, answering his questions in a soft, flat voice that the microphone in front of him made clearly audible. With one sparse sentence after another, Cary drew a picture of the basement, of the bruises and broken bones, of the terrifying unpredictability of his father's rages. Pete was relieved that the Crown lawyer kept his tone civil, even kind at times, and that the man took care never to draw Cary's eyes to the side of the room where his father sat.