14 - Sorry

Ms Hartman left before dinner, saying she had another child to place that nice and she would scarcely make it if she stayed. She thanked the Simms and hugged Robin goodbye. As she wrapped Robin in an embrace she whispered to her to not be afraid to call. Even if there was so much as a threat to anyone's wellbeing, Ms Hartman urged Robin to ring her.

With a thankful yet bashful smile, Robin nodded. Her cheeks were still rosy from having been chided. Swallowing her nerves, Robin chewed on her lower lip as Ms Hartman relayed her speech. She could nearly feel someone's eyes drilling holes in her back. Rolling in her shoulders, Robin self-consciously played with the hem of her shirt. Mid-sentence of the woman's advice, Robin peeked over her shoulder. Her instincts were right.

Tyler was in the doorframe of the kitchen watching them - her. His scrutinising eyes held steadfast to Robin's every movement. It was almost like he wore a permanent military stare, like he would bark at her, critiquing her slouched frame.

With a wave, Ms Hartman sashayed out of the house and climbed into the car. The car honked twice as it left the street. The banana yellow, New Jersey plate zoomed out of sight and mind.

"Robin," Mrs Simms said.

She turned and faced the young looking woman. "Yes, Ma'a-uh-Mrs Simms, sorry."

A small chuckle filled the air as she placed her hand on Robin's shoulder. "Old habits die hard?"

Robin's face contorted. "Pardon me?"

"It means old habits are difficult to break - or die."

She nodded slowly. "Oh. Well, yes."

She didn't tsk like Tyler had. "Come on, I hope you like fish an' chips!"

"We're having fish with chips?" Robin asked while Mrs Simms led her to the dining room.

"Well, I suppose they are different from the American version. You'll see." She winked as she pulled out the chair.

Politely, Robin thanked her, taking her seat. The table wasn't terribly oblong but it was long enough for a comfortable family sitting of six or seven. She stared at the light fabric running from end to end. Two candles were perched on each side. They were slightly off centre but not one of them noticed. As food slid before her, Robin tentatively picked up the fork.

A loud but soft grunt scratched at someone's throat. They sat diagonal from her.

"Robin," Mr Simms whispered.

All eyes shot to her and she shifted in her seat. Hunching her shoulders, Robin vainly tried to make herself small.

"We say grace before eating. It's to thank God for giving us this meal and each other."

She wanted to snort. As Mr Simms continued, her brain switched off his lecture.

Where the hell had God been when her father's fist hammered her face, when he sliced her ribs with his pocket knife, when he had landed her in the hospital for the umpteenth time? Where had He been? Out for a ten year holiday at the Bahamas?

Robin flinched when a hand curled around hers. Looking up, her blue eyes met the woman's. Her hand remained limp while Mrs Simms gently tightened her grasp. Her long natural fingernails were void of colour. With slight curiosity, Robin glared at their joint hands as if she were expecting them to do something spectacular.

"Our Father who art in Heaven, hollowed be Thy name..." They recited their verses in perfect unison.

It freaked Robin out a little. She wanted no part in a cult or ritual where they prayed to some invisible figurehead in the sky. Her mouth taped together as she glanced from person to person.

Each Simms member had their eyes shut with a relaxed face, even Tyler's mug lost it stern fix.

"...Robin into our lives," Mrs Simms said.

Robin's head whipped around, suddenly her interest piqued at her name's mention.

"We ask You to bless her, God. Give her protection and help her when she needs it most."

Her head tilted. 'Why is she praying for me? We've barely known each other for half an hour? 'Pursing her lips, she swallowed.

"Amen!" Straight away, Tyler began shoving food into his mouth. His eyes were half-crazy, looking like he was a famished lion as he devoured his meat.

"Tyler, slow down. You'll get a stomach ache," Mrs Simms said.

"So, Robin," Mr Simms said. When he received her attention, he continued. "You're sixteen-"

"Seventeen." Tyler blurted out with food hanging off his teeth. He looked like a Neanderthal with the fish slobbered over his jowls.

Mrs Simms nearly screeched. "Tyler, please chew your food and swallow before talking. It's very rude to speak with your mouth full. Come on, Tyler, you know better!" Her face was knitted with disapproval.

"Sorry, Mum." His fork slowed to an even, more socially acceptable pace.

Robin couldn't hide the small snigger as she answered Mr Simms. "Yes, Sir. I'm seventeen."

"If you don't mind, would you please tell us little 'bout yourself?"

Silence passed between them. "What do you want to know?" Robin picked at her food. Her appetite drowned at the thought of revealing too much but giving enough to hold off the information hungry dogs.

"Hmm." The man rubbed his short stubble. "Well, let's start with your favourite subject in school?"

"I uh-um, I don't have one."

The little boy, sat beside his mother, shifted and leant into his father's ear like he was telling him a secret.

"Good question, Pat! When is your birthday?"

"Uh, January seventeenth."

"No way!" Tyler scoffed. "Isn't that a week before the accident?" He continued eating, completely unaware.

"Tyler, shut your mouth," his mother hissed through gritted teeth.

However, the damage had been done. Robin flinched at his less-than-polite tone. Tears welled in her eyes, but she promised not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her meltdown. She gave him an incredulous once over, seeking signs of regret. Not finding her desired response, she shoved the chair out. The wooden legs screeched on the floor, making her cringe internally. As she threw down her napkin that rested on her lap, she casted him a death glare.

"Go to hell, Tyler!" She stomped away.

How dare he! And he calls himself a - whatever the fuck they are! She fumed as she stomped up the stairs. Who the hell does he think he is bringing that up! Her lip trembled as fought to gain reign of her battling emotions. One part of her wanted to sink to the floor, whip out Ms Hartman's card, and ring her to take her back. The other half of her was enraged that Tyler had the audacity to make such a remark. She wanted to slap him, but her father quickly surfaced in her mind.

Violence would have been his reaction: backhand the smart-mouther with an added blow with his steel toed boots to the cheek after the offender crumbled to the floor. To assure the perpetrator received their lesson, he would jam his knuckles into their ribs or slam them into his low rise desk, forcing them to topple over the wooden plank. After a few sentences with plenty of profanities, he'd spit his saliva, whirl around, and slam the nearest door after he walked out.

"Robin?" Mrs Simms's eyes were glazed over, they looked like marbles. "Hey, can we talk?"

"There's nothing to say. Whatever problem your son has with me, it's fine. I'm not staying here." Robin's throat caught as her fingers stumbled to dig out the crumbled card.

"Robin, please. Hear me out?" Her eyes begged, her voice plead.

They stood. Quiet played at the echo of the walls.

"Fine."

A small relieved smile flashed on the woman's pink lips. "Here." Her head jerked to a door.

Robin hesitantly walked over to the woman, apprehension nipped at her heels as she ducked into the room.

"I want to apologise-"

"You don't need to. You said nothing wrong. I don't want a half-assed apology from him either." Robin's face was fixed with a scowl as she stared at the wall.

"I get that you're upset, Robin. I really do."

"Why the hell shouldn't I be?" Her hands smacked the air.

"Tyler was far out of line, and he knows it." She walked to the queen sized bed. "You have the right to be angry. I'd feel the same way."

"No, don't you patronise me!" Her voice cracked as her finger jabbed in Mrs Simms's direction. She couldn't see, tears blurred her vision as she blindly searched through the distorted objects to find the doorway.

"Robin, honey. I didn't mean to and I wasn't." The woman spoke with a gentle tone. Her hand cupped Robin's shoulder. "Please, honey. Let's sit."

Too exhausted to rebel, Robin let her feet trudge along the laminate. Her bottom sank into the comforter, her spine slunk with dejection as salty raindrops dribbled on her warm cheeks.

Mrs Simms's palm rubbed circles into Robin's back. The pace was even, practical timed at three seconds per circle. It stayed at the same spot, just between her shoulder blades. The pattern went as wide as the bones.

As Robin's chest thumped, her glossy gaze found the pictures on the wall. There was a huge family portrait hung above the bureau where a mirror normally would be. She could barely make out the smiling faces as she rubbed away her tears. Squinting, she leant in closer.

"We had that one professionally taken," she said. Standing up, Mrs Simms ambled to the golden frame. "I've always loved this photograph."

Wiping her nose on the bad of her hand, Robin joined the woman in jeans. She inspected each face and the smiles plastered on their faces. As far as she could tell, they were not forced. Not a single cheery smile looked like there was something to hold back.

"That's me, Keith, Tyler, Blake, and Victoria." She pointed at a girl with pitch black, ringlet hair. It hung placid at her shoulders. "Victoria was our first foster child. She uh, she passed away." Mrs Simms sniffled as her gaze watered. She bit her lip, sucking on it before letting it ease to its natural position.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. It was a long time ago, but I keep her photo up there."

A sudden knock made Robin jump even though it was light. "Mum."

"Come in."

Robin backed away as she turned her back. In an instant, her tears stopped but the rest of her body wept inside. Her stomach battled down the nausea fighting its way to her throat.

"Hey, Mum, can I talk to Robin, alone?"

Before Mrs Simms opened her mouth Robin said, "No you may not. I don't want to talk to you." Her arms crossed over her chest as her nose tilted higher in the air. "Go away."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? Please, Robin?" his voice was closer.

She huffed as her eyebrows knitted together. He would probably get he wanted anyway, so why waste her energy with argument? "Fine," she said. Reluctance laced her venomous tone.

When Mrs Simms stepped out, Tyler walked to where Robin stood. "It was rude and insincere for me to say the thing about your parents' accident."

"Why the hell don't you try thinking how your words will affect others first?" Robin whirled around.

"I know, I should have." his palms flashed. "I wasn't thinking."

"Well, you need to try and think before you open your mouth then!"

"Look, Robin, I didn't mean to-"

"I know you didn't mean to. You have to mean not to!" Robin's voice was two octaves higher than normal as her voice softened.

Tyler paused and sighed. The dejection on his face was evident. "I'm sorry, Robin. What do you want me to do? I can't take my words back. I would if I could, but what's said has been said."

"Just leave me the alone. Please." Her shoulder jostled his as she stumbled out. The door slammed shut. Her heartbeat was at an unhealthy pace as she toddled through the hallway.

Finding an empty room, Robin shut the door and slid down. Her shirt rose up from her back, so she shifted to get comfortable. Sobs knotted her throat as she gasped for oxygen. Large pockets of air sucked into her lungs when her laboured breath hitched.

Thoughts darted in and out of her mind, following the rapid, ragged heaves Robin gulped. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears collected in the cracks on her palms. Biting her lip, she tried to stop the quivering but her mouth would not obey. Her head was so foggy as she lost control of her emotions. Somehow, the pain of a weight lifted and she felt liberated, yet there remained all the other bricks.

The bricks of every past hurt and pain constructed a wall around her heart. It was a robust wall standing fast against heartache. However, there were small holes, fallacies, in her defence mechanism. The wall of protectiveness kept breaking. Strangled wails ripped through her lips as her brain pulsed with agony.

Her mother had been the first chip at the wall. There would be days she trashed talked Robin's ear off at the pinnacle of her high. When she smoked weed, her dragon breath oozed into Robin's eight-year-old nostrils. Foul words trailed to her ears that sailed to her heart. Thus, the wall began.

When they had moved closer to the main area of trade, Robin's parents never filed the legal documents for her to enter her fifth year of school. With the staunch revenue piling in, they viewed Robin's allegiance to school studies as a waste of their precious money and a risk for their identities. They had to be covert business partners as they climbed the ranks.

Her father had been the main contributor to the 'great' wall. At first he had been able to hold his temper, but when deals swirled down the drain, his eye caught the vodka or beer. His rage manifested until he looked through bull's eyes any time his lips touched the cool glass rim of alcohol. From him, Robin had built the foundation of defence.

And then there had been Mr Bishop and his drunken mistake. Tyler was quick to shoot at her wall as well. Everyone was at her wall taking their stance, preparing their guns and pulled their triggers. Their bullets of pain shattered her wall, piercing her heart over and over.

"Robin?"

She jumped to her feet and turned around.

"Please, talk to me. I'm sorry, okay?" A dull thud came from the other side of the door. "Please forgive me. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm asking you to give me another chance. I was a real arse back there."

Her hand curled over the knob and she twisted it. Putting on her best stern face, she pulled back the handle. "Say what you want to say, and I'll determine if calling my social worker is the best decision." Robin had her mobile in her hand. She wasn't sure if she intended to actually make the call, but she decided he did not need to know her doubt.

"Okay, but promise me you won't slam the door on my face before allowing me to explain."

Reluctantly, Robin nodded as she slid over. Her head whipped to the side telling him to enter. With a warning glare, she followed behind him.

A/N: This chapter goes out to LucyFace for creating this magnificent cover. I have her to thank for all of my readers now! Be sure to check out her story, Ashes to Ashes! She's life goals gal: cover creator, fantastic writer, book club co-manager, plus much more! Lol! She's very active on Wattpad and is really great to chat with! :)