Eddy sat there, shivering out in the cold for a long time. Even well after Mr Crowe had gone. Eddy had heard him charge back downstairs, yell something at Mrs Crowe and anyone else in hearing distance, before storming out of the house and slamming the front door behind him.
Eddy thanked God for the small mercy that he’d chosen to walk off in the other direction. If he’d come the other way he might well have spotted him there in the tree.
Then he heard Mrs Crowe come quietly into the room above him. She was crying too. It was some small comfort to know that she was there for Reagan but his own cowardice still tormented him. He wanted to slap himself and pinch his arms until they bruised but even then his pitiful fear of being heard won through.
In the end Reagan left her bedroom with her mother and when Eddy heard her door close behind them he also feared for a door on their friendship. And he fully deserved it too.
#
It wasn’t until very late that evening that Reagan came back into her bedroom. Eddy had no idea what the time was but the moon was way up high and the street had been quiet for ages.
Her mother was with her for a while and although Eddy couldn’t hear what she was saying, it was all said in the soothing tones he himself often yearned for. Eventually she too left, turning off Reagan’s light and gently pulling the door closed behind her.
‘Reagan,’ whispered Eddy as loud as he dared . . . which wasn’t all that loud. He hadn’t heard Mr Crowe come back but you could never be too careful.
No answer.
‘Reagan.’ Just a touch louder this time.
‘Leave me alone.’
That was about the very last thing Eddy ever wanted to hear and it broke his heart. His fears had come to haunt his reality. Through his complete and utter failure as a friend, he’d lost her forever.
‘I’m s-sorry, Reagan. I m-miss you.’ Eddy knew they weren’t good last words but they were all he had and so he slunk back down into his bed and sought simple solace, a broken boy with a broken tree.
The following morning hit with a frost that lay crisp on the grass outside.
Eddy, who wasn’t in the habit of sleeping much these days, was up bright and early. He wasn’t exactly parked at the side window but he was never far away from it . . . just in case.
Reagan was sleeping in this morning and it was a school day too.
But she had to get up sooner or later and eventually she did. When Eddy plucked up what courage he had and went over to the window he found her with her back to him, playing with her dollhouse.
She hasn’t played with that thing for years.
‘Are y-you all right?’
‘Don’t look at me.’
‘Okay.’ Eddy didn’t know what else to say and in deference to her wishes he lowered his eyes despite her back still being to him. ‘Um . . . c-can we still b-be friends?’
Eddy held his breath. There it was, it was out there. Part of him wished he could take it back, that he’d never asked. What if she said ‘no’.
For quite some time, though, nothing at all was said. Eddy tried to keep his eyes off her (something he didn’t entirely succeed with) and Reagan kept fiddling with that toy of hers.
‘Yes.’
The word came out of nowhere and Eddy second-guessed himself a couple of times before he was sure he’d heard it.
She still had her back to him though.
‘D-do you want t-to talk about it?’ he said to the windowsill.
Reagan turned around and faced Eddy. When he dared to glance up he saw that one eye, her left one, was completely swollen over and it screamed at Eddy in violets and blues. She also had a nasty scratch along her right cheek and Eddy just knew, deep in his heart, that it must have come from Mr Crowe’s wedding ring.
‘Dad hit me, Eddy.’ Reagan broke down. ‘He hit me.’
Without thinking, Eddy climbed out onto the tree and made the journey, for the very first time, all the way to Reagan’s window. Climbing down from the foreign ledge, half blinded by a combination of adrenaline and righteous anger, he marched towards the shadow of Reagan that stood in front of him. Just as she’d held him when he needed it most, he held her, bringing her close to his chest as it muffled her sobs. There was nothing to say. The one thing she needed, and the one thing he could do, was to just be there.
That’s what friends did. That’s what best friends did.