“It’s simple. You either love her or you don’t. Ball up, dude,” Nolan says it plain as if it were a fact. “Or it would be simple for other people. But this is you. You know, Sunday and I have thrown that word around freely for as long as I can remember, but don’t think it’s gone unnoticed that you’ve never returned the favor. Sunday asked me about it once. She was twelve and hurt that you wouldn’t say it. You remember that?”
The memory comes back like a stone slung at my forehead. “She thanked me for gifting her a diary for her birthday. The therapist gave me the idea.” I shrug it off. I remember that night, Sunday telling me how much she loved me. I could see the pain in her eyes because I wouldn’t say it back. She never asked again.
Nolan takes a breath. “I told her one day you’d break free from the pain you were in and you’d never stop telling her how much you loved her. But in the meantime, I let her know you cared. You backed it up with actions, and that was all that mattered. Sunday and I are okay with it because we know you love us deep down inside. Some people need to hear it, though. And when you don’t say it—they’re not so sure how you feel.”
“I know how I feel. I feel like shit. That’s how I feel.” I glance out toward the hills, toward that sacred spot where my mother’s soul left her body. “I miss her.”
Nolan slings an arm around me, and I lose it. Tears come hard and fast, and I wipe them away with the back of my hand.
“It wasn’t just her life I took that day.” It bumps out hoarse. “It was mine, too. It’s like I turned into some robot. Her death short-circuited me and left me too afraid to feel anything ever again. The only reason Sunday and you were exempt was because I had those feelings in me long before we lost Mom. That’s all I had was the past. There was no moving forward. There can’t be. I killed the person I loved most.”
“Sounds like you’ve been feeding yourself a steady diet of bullshit for way too long. Our mother died because she ran a red light and some idiot beamed her in the right spot. She died instantly, Rush. One minute she was thinking about how much she loved you, how she didn’t want to disappoint you by showing up late, and the next she was flying with the angels. She didn’t suffer for one second, and she wouldn’t want you to either. And if she knew about this crap-fest you’ve been living in, she’d be pissed. She lived to make us happy. There was no way she’d want her death to bring you so much pain. Yes, it hurt. It still hurts. But to put your heart on ice? To lose something great with someone special—she’d be the first to kick your balls in. If you really care about this girl, do the right thing. Our mother would want you to. So I guess the question is, do you love her?”
I push out a hard breath and walk over to the ledge, as the lights below wink on and off like a warning.
Nolan pops up beside me and lets out his own lungful of air. “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”
“Nope. But life keeps happening.”
“You think it’s time to make her proud? I never did think she’d approve of your lifestyle choices. You’re the kind of guy she would have warned your sister to stay away from.”
I tick my head to the side. “She had better.” The last person I’d want Sunday with is someone like me.
I look over at Hollow Brook Hills, toward that very section where fate decided to unravel my family. “I loved her. I loved her so damn much it still kills me on the inside.”
Nolan lands his arm over my shoulders and pulls his head to mine. “You don’t have to stop. That’s the beauty of loving someone. It can go on and on and on. Just like the way her love still goes on for you.”
Something in me loosens at the thought. My mother had never stopped loving me. She loves me still.
I look up toward the sky, blinking back tears, and it feels as if that milky curtain of stars is pressing down all its weight on me, as if my mother’s arms were reaching out from beyond just to offer up one final embrace.
“I love you,” I whisper to the sky, and my body suddenly feels lighter than air. “I said it.” A dark laugh rumbles from deep inside me as Nolan rattles my arm.
“You did it. You said the best words of all, and you didn’t blow off the side of the mountain or whatever the hell you thought might happen. Don’t be afraid to love people, man. And when and if you find the right girl—say it to her loud and often. And then do what you do best”—he pulls me in to a tight embrace—“back it up with actions.”
Nolan takes off, and I continue to stare out at the holy spot where my mother died.
“I love you, Mom,” I whisper. “And I hope you won’t mind, but I love someone else, too.” My entire body swims with relief as those words leave my lips. “I love Trixie. I love Trixie Toberman.”
A roar expels from me as if I just shot the winning basket in the game of a lifetime, and about three people to my left look as if they might need to stage an intervention.
I need to leave. I need to tell Trixie. And if she won’t listen to me, I know just how to get the message across.
Trixie and I may have had a bumpy start, but we are far from finished.
Red-Hot Romance
Trixie
The charcoal clouds up above conspire with the frigid night air to usher in what will be this fall’s first snow flurry. It’s always been my favorite time of year, when fall lets go of its splendor and passes the baton to winter. As soon as Thanksgiving hits, it’s as if the whole world forgets about that turkey in its belly and is suddenly possessed with Black Friday deals, every home in Hollow Brook is festooned with lights and blowups of snowmen and Santa. And just seeing the Christmas trees strapped to the roof of every other car as they scurry down the streets makes me happy. Usually. But Thanksgiving isn’t for a few days yet. In fact, that’s the very reason Knox and I are headed to meet up with our father for dinner tonight. He wanted to catch us before he takes off to New York on business.
“I’m pretty sure this isn’t the way to the Black Bear.” I scowl at my brother for bamboozling me into some impromptu road trip. I should have known he was up to no good when he insisted on picking me up instead of letting me hoof it to the bar. Cutler Tower is so close I could spit on the Black Bear’s rooftop from my balcony. And ironically, I used to love road trips with my brother. I used to appreciate his spontaneity, and now I hate it like I hate everything else.
“Don’t worry about the Black Bear.” He winces at the windshield as we take a hairpin turn. “We’ll be there in plenty of time to meet Dad. Dinner’s not until six.”
“Then why am I trapped in a vehicle with my racecar driver of a brother at four fifty?”
“Because we need to be somewhere at five.” He shoots me a dirty look. “You talk too much, you know that?”
“You used to love it when I talked. Are you this rude to your girlfriend, too? Because I’m shocked you’re not single by now. And I know what you’re thinking—that’s why I am.”
“Okay, so I was thinking of it.” He chuckles at the thought. “But not literally, only because it would have been funny. Guys like you, Trix. I get it.” He shakes his head at the road as if it were a disparaging thought. “I want to cheer you up. I think you’re going to like what you see tonight.” He grimaces because deep down he knows I won’t. We haven’t brought up the infamous incident—the visual of which I’m sure my brother wishes he could bleach out of his brain, but Knox made it clear that he didn’t want to see me near Rush again. I wasn’t going to fight him on it. Sadly, I want the same thing for myself—which is impossible to achieve because he’s everywhere.
“You’d better pray you’re right because you’re the only person in the world I have a free pass to beat up whenever I want.”
“Don’t I know it.”
We pull into the lot of the West Bend Community Center, and I squint out at the place trying to get a clue as to what we’re in for. The mouth of the building is open, and I spot a stage with people seated in front of it. The lot is full, and a few stragglers are left running through the door as if they
’re afraid to miss the big event.
“If this is some free concert for some totally cool band, then I’m going to thank you for this. But if it’s pretty much anything else, expect that beating I’ve been meaning to give you.”
“Duly noted.” His lip tugs to the side the way it does before he’s about to have a good cry, and all of my warning bells go off. “Before we go in, I thought we should maybe shoot the elephant in the room.” He kills the engine, and his eyes slit my way. “You okay?” Knox has asked me that every day since he found me on my knees. He even came over the next morning and brought me coffee and a donut. He tried to convince me to stay at his place, but I won’t go near it. Knox just wanted to be close to me while I nursed a broken heart. But I didn’t want his pity. I wanted to feel every ounce of horrific pain. After all, I earned it by acting like an idiot.
“As okay as I’ll ever be.” It’s true. It hurts so much I don’t think it could ever get better. I’m broken, damaged, shattered into far too many pieces to be put back together appropriately.
“I’m sorry you fell for him. I should have been there for you. I should have seen the signs.” He pinches his eyes closed a moment. “It was my worst nightmare, and I’ll never forgive myself for letting this happen.”
All of those beautiful days I once cherished with Rush come back to me. “I’ll never forgive myself for letting it happen either.”
We get out, and he takes my hand as if I were three. Secretly, I love when he does this. I still need a hug from him daily just to survive in this world. And after what happened with Rush, Knox has done just that—made sure to give me that much-needed hug, sometimes three times a day.
“You know I should probably drop out of school,” I announce from thin air. That’s the thing with Knox. He knows not to take my words at face value. A lesson I wish I could have employed with Rush. That horrific pain comes back to me, and I push all thoughts of that unholy Knight out of my head. I can’t seem to push him out of my heart. That seems to be the problem. I glance down at my phone. Out of the blue, Rush began texting me as of yesterday. He’s called and texted a thousand times, but I’ve ignored them all. I ditched the club meeting last night in fear he’d pin me down with some hokey apology. I’m the one who needs to apologize to myself for being so stupid as to fall for his bedroom shenanigans. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. Maybe he’s engaged to Miranda now and wanted to share the good news with me. I would believe anything at this point.
“Quit school and do what? Live in a van down by the river?”
“Are you kidding? I’m shacking up with you for the rest of my life. I hope Harper wants kids. I’m volunteering for the position. Can I have my own room, Dad?”
Knox growls at me just as I spot the sign, and my heels dig into the black top.
“No way.” My body ignites like a flare, and suddenly I want to be anywhere but in this parking lot. “How dare you bring me here.” My breathing grows erratic, and the earth spins below my feet a moment.
Knox wraps an arm around my waist and steadies me. “You’re okay. You’re going to sit in the back with me.” He moves us toward the peachy glow emanating from inside, and I want to scream, claw my brother’s eyes out for trapping me like some kitten at the bottom of a well. “Don’t worry, Trix. She won’t know we’re here.”
The giant sign reads, Welcome to the Excised Parent, where you are always welcome and surrounded by love.
“I hate you so much for this.” I stumble to keep up with him, and every move my body makes feels like a betrayal.
“You don’t hate me, Trix,” he whispers as we slip in through the back and duck over to a table in the back blocking the view from the stage in part by way of a set of bleachers. “You don’t have it in you to hate anybody.” Knox looks up at me a moment, and I wonder if he meant my mother or Rush—both of them maybe.
We sit down, and I scan the darkened room with its round tables, each brimming with men in suits, women in expensive looking coats and silk scarves. They all look so normal, like people you’d meet at the bank or an upscale restaurant. For sure they don’t look like broken families, disenfranchised men and women with malicious spouses who drove them out of their children’s lives and into a place like this. And then I see her—my mother showboating near the front, talking to an all too familiar looking couple, Scarlett and Rex.
My blood boils at the sight of her, and for the first time in a long while those hives she sponsors don’t bother showing up. My body is too busy funneling all the rage into the fact I had to be here at all to witness the spectacle.
A short man with a round face and pleasant smile steps up to the microphone and introduces tonight’s guest speaker, Mrs. Lynette Kent.
The room erupts in cheers, and my mother flashes that million-dollar smile as if this notoriety were her destiny all along.
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Once again, it’s an honor to be speaking with you. I see several familiar faces in the crowd—my son, Rex, and his girlfriend, Scarlett, who also happens to be my stepdaughter, are here tonight.” She gives a nervous chuckle, and the crowd follows suit.
There you go, Mother. Lift up the skirt of our family tree and expose all the dirty bits to them. You really have no shame, do you?
“But for those of you who don’t know my story, I want to share a little. When my first husband and I were investigated for fraud—it was me who ended up with a prison sentence. I spent nine months of hell doing time for something that I had so little knowledge about it was laughable they locked me up to begin with. I won’t lie. It made me bitter. It made me angry and resentful toward the very person I blamed for putting me there to begin with—my ex.”
Her words spear me right through the heart. I had always heard my father tell it to me just the way she said it. And yet, I just thought he was going easy on her. I always believed there were nefarious details being left out to protect me. I always believed that she was just as much to blame as he was in my eyes—as well as the laws. And now I wonder.
“While I was away, I had to bear the pain of separation from my oldest son, Rex, and my younger twins, Knox and Beatrix. I thought maybe the boys could tough it out a little better than my daughter would. A girl needs her mother.” Her voice dwindles to nothing. “As the weeks went by, the visitations involving my younger two children quickly ended. My ex stated that it gave them nightmares. They were afraid they, too, would be locked up and put away. No phone calls, no letters, just many silent months. Thank God I had Rex.” She offers him a forlorn smile.
I look to Knox. I don’t remember any nightmares. I specifically remember my father hating the drive, hating what he was putting us through, but deep down, I craved to see my mother. She was the oxygen I needed to breathe, and I was smothering without her.
“Eventually, my younger two grew bitter, resentful, emulating the very feelings I held toward my ex, only they held them toward me. On the day of my release, my ex picked me up. We had already discussed a legal separation before I went into prison. We were rocky from the start, but we held things together for the kids. And before I knew it, rumors were swirling that I alone had pulled the pin on our family unit. To hear him tell it, I stood back just to watch it blow.” She pauses to blot her eyes with a wad of tissues. “But that was the past. I’ve remarried. Have a surprisingly amicable relationship with my ex. My son, Rex, still remains by my side as staunch and strong as ever. I’ve even managed to repair a relationship with my son, Knox. But my daughter.” She twists her head to the side as if it took everything in her to carry on. “Things are nowhere near where I’d like them to be. I try. I’ve kept all modes of communication open with her. I even committed the cardinal sin and told her the truth about what happened. If I could take back anything, it would be that. I should have eased her into it. But I was desperate. And, of course, she didn’t believe me. Sometimes I lose all hope of ever restoring what I’ve lost with her.” She wipes the tears from her face. “But I press on, like all of yo
u. I have to. I’ll press on to my dying breath. If I could tell her one thing tonight, it would be that I love her. That I never meant to hurt her. There’s not a thing on this Earth I wouldn’t give up not to have that loving mother-daughter relationship that we were robbed of.”
I jump from my seat and bolt for the exit. Knox catches up with me outside and unlocks his truck as we both pile in.
“That’s all I wanted you to hear, Trix.” He fires up the engine, and we peel out of the parking lot. “We needed to leave anyway. It’s time for dinner with Dad.”
* * *
The Black Bear sits cold and stale on this strange night where the full-bellied clouds wait patiently to dump their fury over Hollow Brook. I feel numb after attending that ridiculous meeting. I feel strangely warmed by it, too. But the Black Bear, something so ubiquitous in my life on any given day, looks foreign to me tonight. The entire planet feels foreign, like the way things get when you have a death in the family or your boyfriend whom you thought loves you doesn’t, and the mother you thought abandoned you perhaps didn’t.
We head inside, and the scents of beer and French fries assault my senses. The house band has a country song crooning from the speakers, and the hands of dozens of coeds reach out to touch the lead singer as if he were an original Beatle. The place is surprisingly pumping tonight as the sorority girls gather en mass to have one last blowout before we all go our separate ways before the holiday. I spot Miranda Smirnoff losing her shit to the music with the rest of them. Her hair is perfectly coifed, and her dress, despite the fact it’s two sizes too small, seems to be on point. There’s a luxury handbag strapped across her chest so big, so yellow, it can double as a kayak. Should the bar flood with beer she could easily save a menagerie of her sorority sisters.