Brooks

  “So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

  “I just wanted to make sure that we were okay,” he said, shrugging. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him wearing jeans. They were probably designer, but still. He looked like my brother again, and not the polished version of himself he’d turned into. Years ago, when we were younger, we’d been super close. Being the two oldest had bonded us in a way that nothing else could. If I was being honest, I really fucking missed him. I missed the guy he used to be. I didn’t understand the one he was now.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said, standing up. “I talked to Mom and Dad and they told me about the mortgage and the money and everything. I just wish they would have told me.” He sighed.

  “They didn’t even want to tell me. The only reason I knew was that I’d been watching their accounts. I took a lot of heat trying to finagle something to make sure they didn’t lose everything. I had to call in a few favors.” That didn’t actually surprise me. It was something I would have done if I’d been in his position.

  “I bet,” I said, leaning against the porch railing. He joined me and we stood shoulder-to-shoulder.

  “I’m sorry I sort of lost it. And I’m sorry I was up your ass about Remi. I was just so concerned that things were going to fall apart again after I’d worked so hard to glue them back together. We’re so close to losing everything and I spend most of my time worrying that we will and making contingency plans.” He ran his hand through his perfect hair, mussing it.

  “I had no idea,” I said. What else was there to say? We’d both sort of been assholes.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Really.”

  “Me too.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “We need to start talking again. Really talking,” I said. “Mom and Dad shouldn’t have to handle everything, but between the two of us, we should be able to do something. If we start really talking again.” He nodded.

  “You’re right. You’re right. Even when you don’t want to talk about money and the store, we could just hang out. Have a drink. You still haven’t seen my place since I moved in.” He was right. I hadn’t really seen him much outside of family dinners for years. That was on both of us.

  “Well, I’ve got more time off now, so maybe we can make that happen next week.” Sooner was better than later to start repairing things. I’d fucked up with Avery and I was finally ready to admit that.

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Just text me and let me know which night works for you. I’m pretty much free since I have no life outside of work.” He gave me a grim smile.

  “You mean that suit isn’t working for you? How is that possible?” He chuckled.

  “I guess I just... I’ve been so wrapped up in work and worrying about the store that I haven’t had the time. There have been a few dinners and drinks here and there, but nothing serious. I’m not that upset about it.” I didn’t really believe that.

  “Speaking of girls, what’s up with you and Remi Wright?” I didn’t really want to go there.

  “That’s a good question. We, ah, seemed to be heading down the right path, but then she kind of freaked out and now we’re back to square one. She wants to keep things platonic.” He snorted.

  “And how’s that working for you?”

  “Not very well.” Huge understatement.

  “You might want to do something about it, if you’re miserable.” I groaned.

  “I don’t want to freak her out. I figure if I can give her enough space to see what she really wants, then she’ll come to me. Or not. It can really only go one of two ways.” We’d either be together, or not. Right now we were sort of in-between.

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “Not at all.” He looked at me and smiled and I remembered that he was my brother and I loved the bastard.

  “Come on, let’s hug it out,” I said, holding my arms out. We hugged and then went back in the house where Pearl was singing for a rapt audience.

  “I’m glad you two worked things out. I’ve been worried about you,” Mom said in my ear when I sat down on the couch next to her.

  “I know. But we’re figuring it out. Promise.” I reached out and squeezed her hand and she kissed me on the cheek.

  “I knew you would.”

  ****

  I ended up emailing the woman from the gallery, Carol Holland, because I was too nervous to call her. She sent back a response two hours later, requesting a time for her to survey my work and judge whether she could use it in an upcoming show. The gallery would also take a commission and I’d have to hang all my pictures myself. I’d expected that, so I sent her a response saying that was fine, along with times I was available and my cell phone number.

  Then I texted Remi.

  Talked to the gallery woman. Officially freaking the fuck out.

  She ended up just calling me.

  “Aw, it’s so cute that you’re nervous. You’re gonna be fine, Brooks.” I didn’t feel that way. There was dread in the pit of my stomach and I wanted to email Ms. Holland back and say “forget it.”

  “I know it’s stupid to be this stressed about a local gallery, but I’ve just never done this. My last actual art show was in high school and I didn’t tell my parents about it because I didn’t want anyone to know. They found out, of course, and my entire family showed up. I was so pissed when they got there.” And relieved later. There was another girl in my class who was a really talented potter and none of her family showed up. I’d never forgotten the way she stood near her display and looked so sad and every time the door opened. The hope on her face that the person walking in would be someone for her.

  I’d looked over at my family, making way too much noise and annoying everyone, and knew that I was actually lucky as hell. My family might drive me absolutely insane, but they were always there to pick me up if I fell, even if I didn’t want them to be.

  “I’m really proud of you. You’ve done so much lately and it’s really awesome to see.” My heart skipped a beat. I could feel the words that I had been wanting to say for ages on the back of my tongue, but I couldn’t let them out. If I told her I loved her, it would ruin everything.

  “Thanks, Remi. That means a lot. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Aw, shucks. Does this mean I get 10 percent of what you make? As an inspiration fee?” I burst out laughing.

  “We’ll see. Maybe I’ll just plan some more elaborate outings for us.”

  “Ooooohhhhh, that might be nice. Would they involve international travel?”

  “Now you’re pushing it. But I might be able to spring for a helicopter.” We bantered back and forth like that for a while and I couldn’t stop smiling. And then she dropped a bomb.

  “I think I found an apartment.”

  Remi

  I knew it probably wasn’t going to go over well. But keeping things from him wasn’t my style.

  There was silence on the other end as he processed and I was quickly realizing I had picked a shitty time to tell him. Too late now.

  “You did?” he asked, his voice a little choked.

  “Yeah, it’s in Portland. I haven’t been there in a while and I forgot what a cool city it is until we went to the art museum. So I’ve been looking for places and I found one that’s really nice and I think I can actually afford it. I haven’t done anything about it yet, but I really need to get out my parents’ house, you know?” I had to make him understand that staying with my parents just wasn’t an option. It was going to crush me emotionally. It already had been.

  And Portland was a great city for millenials, so there was that too. I didn’t think I’d have any issues making friends or finding a job while I worked on getting my baking business off the ground. I pictured a little hole-in-the-wall bakery in a brick building in the Old Port where people would line up out the door just to buy one cupcake or cookie. Maybe that was a little ambitious, but I didn’t care. If you didn’t have goals, then
you would never achieve anything.

  “Yeah, I know. I feel the same way. So, when are you thinking of making all this happen?” He was trying to be upbeat, but I could tell he was freaking out. And he probably wasn’t all that happy with me.

  “Not right away. I still need to figure a lot of stuff out, you know? It wouldn’t be until the fall, probably. I want to get moved in before winter so I don’t have to move during a snowstorm.” He coughed a few times.

  “You okay over there?”

  “Yeah, fine. Just choked on... air.”

  I laughed.

  “Been there, done that. So, you’re not mad at me for moving? I mean, Portland’s not on the other side of the world. You can come and see me and I can come and see you. I’m sure my parents are going to demand regular visits.” Little barbs kept lodging themselves in my heart as I said those words. They felt fake. They felt wrong. I said them anyway.

  “Right. Exactly. We can still see each other.” His words sounded hollow and I hated it. Why the fuck did I tell him? Why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut?

  I always did the wrong things. No wonder I couldn’t keep friends or a guy or anything in my life. I was destined to fail.

  I got off the phone with Brooks as quick as I could and then groaned.

  “Everything okay?” Dad poked his head through my partially open door.

  “Yup. Just... screwing my life up again. No big deal.” He came in, looking around as if something was going to jump out and bite him. I couldn’t remember the last time my dad had voluntarily entered my room.

  He finally sat on the edge of my bed. I sat up against my pillows and sighed.

  “What happened?” he asked. I could tell I was in for a Dad Talk. Somehow I’d managed to avoid them since I got home.

  “I want to tell you, but then you’ll tell Mom and she’ll murder me so...” I trailed off and he chuckled before he got up and closed the door.

  “Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t tell your mother every last thing. Some things I know are just going to upset her, so I keep them to myself. Is this one of those things?” I nodded.

  “Okay, lay it on me.” He motioned for me to go ahead.

  I took a deep breath.

  “I want to move to Portland and eventually have my own bakery. I found an apartment and I’ve saved up enough money for the deposit and rent until I can get on my feet.” I’d known that money was going to be the biggest reason my parents would throw in my way as a reason for not going, so I’d been saving every damn cent I could. I wanted to be Responsible. With a capital R.

  “Oh. I had a feeling that was what you were going to say. I knew you couldn’t stay here forever. You’ve got to live your own life. Your way. I know your mother had a lot of dreams for you, but those dreams didn’t fit the woman you became.” There was something thick in the back of my throat and I could feel tears starting to prick in the corners of my eyes.

  “And I love the woman you are. I’m very proud to have such a talented daughter. You’re not a screw-up. You just tried a few different paths and found out that they weren’t for you. Plenty of people stick with a bad path their whole life because they’re scared to try something new. Something unknown. But you’re not scared. You’re brave.” Okay, crying. Definitely crying.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said, sniffing and using the corners of one of my pillows to dry up my tears.

  “Hey, that’s what I’m here for.” He held his arms out and hugged me tight. For a moment it was like being a little girl again when I’d fallen off my bike and he came to comfort me. My dad had always been the more affectionate parent. He patted my back and I tried to get my shit together.

  “If you want, I could come with you to look at the place. I don’t think you should commit to anything without seeing it first.”

  I pulled back and raised an eyebrow.

  “And where would we tell Mom we’re going?” He patted me on the shoulder.

  “You don’t worry about that. I can handle her. But I think you had something more on your mind than just moving.” Crap, I thought we were going to get out of here without discussing Brooks.

  “How did you know that?”

  “Dad senses,” he said, tapping his forehead.

  “I told Brooks and he’s not that happy about it.” Saying his name actually hurt.

  “I wanted to ask how things were going between you two, but I didn’t want to pry.” I also had the feeling he’d stopped Mom from prying as well

  “Yeah, well. I don’t know what’s happening with that. We’ve sort of gone back to being kind of friends, but I don’t think that’s what either of us wants. But I can’t... I can’t be with him. He’s going to stay here. His whole family is here and he’s running the store and everything and if I stay with him I just know I’m going to end up having a bunch of kids and never doing anything.” Wow, got all that out in one breath. Who even knew that was possible.

  Silence reigned as Dad thought about his answer.

  “I’m not going to tell you what to do, because that wouldn’t be right. But I think you need to figure out what your priorities are. What you value the most and what you’re willing to do to keep it. And who says you can’t have everything?” The Universe? Common sense? My past experiences with life so far?

  “I don’t know,” I moaned, hugging onto a pillow as if it was going to tell me all the answers.

  “Oh, I think you do. You’re a smart cookie.” He got up and I laughed at him calling me a “cookie.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Anytime, Rem.”

  ****

  I texted Brooks later to apologize for telling him about the apartment thing. I felt like I was trying to steal his thunder or something. He messaged back that it was fine and it wasn’t a big deal.

  Yeah, I totally believed him. But there wasn’t much I could do now. Unless I wanted to tell him “lol, never mind” about the moving, which I wasn’t going to do. I was not changing my plans for a stupid boy. Even if that stupid boy had a smile that made me weak in the knees and could give head like no one I’d ever experienced. Not even then.

  I was sticking to my guns. I was getting the fuck out of Hope Harbor, even if it killed me.

  Fifteen

  Brooks

  Carol Holland emailed me back and we agreed to meet the following Tuesday. I had already taken a few of my pieces in to be matted and framed and everything else was all set to go.

  “Are you nervous?” Remi asked me on Monday night as we were baking. I couldn’t look at chocolate without thinking about throwing her on the counter again. Of course tonight she was making her double chocolate chip cookies so it was all I could smell. And her. The scent of baked goods would always be linked with Remi for me. I couldn’t smell cookies fresh from the oven without thinking of the girl with the purple hair. I wondered how long that was going to last.

  She was getting out. I knew she would eventually. I’d known she was getting out when this had all started. I’d told myself I would be okay with it, but then I’d done the impressively stupid thing of falling in love with her. And now...

  Now I just wanted tell her that I loved her and tell her that I wanted her to stay. That we could be happy. That she could open a little bakery here and we could get a house. It could work. I could see it.

  “Little bit,” I said, answering her question. “I mean, I have no idea what kind of competition I’m up against. There are a lot of people painting pictures of boats and lobster traps around here.” Understatement. You couldn’t throw a rock without hitting a watercolor of a seagull or a bunch of boats or something. Or a lighthouse. So predictable.

  “I bet. But even your paintings and drawings of those things would be better.” Did she have to do that? Did she have to give me compliments that made my heart feel like it was going to smash its way out of my chest and against the wall?

  “Thank you, Remington,” I said. I liked saying her full name because I knew she liked it while trying not
to like at the same time. Her cheeks always flushed a little. So fucking cute.

  “You’re welcome, Brooks.” We moved around each other with ease in the kitchen now. There was a routine and sometimes we didn’t talk much, so absorbed in our work. Her sales were consistent and she’d been taking more and more orders for parties and baseball games and birthdays. She had more demand than she could keep up with, actually. Remi really needed to be in an industrial kitchen and to be baking all the time, not just a few nights a week.

  After we finished all the packing of the goods, we did the dishes together.

  “So, have you gone to look at the apartment yet?” I wanted to support her, I really did. I wanted her to have what she wanted. I also wanted to be one of the things she wanted. Until that point, I’d do whatever I could to be there for her. Even if it killed me on the inside.

  “Uh, no. But my dad said he’d go with me, if I wanted him to. And he promised that he wouldn’t tell my mom, but we’ll see how long that lasts. My mom has a way of finding things out when you don’t want her to know.” She rolled her eyes and handed me a bowl to rinse.

  “I’ll go with you, if he can’t.” I couldn’t believe the words came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t reel them back. Too late now.

  “Oh, really?” she seemed shocked.

  “Yeah, really. So you don’t have to worry about dealing with your mom. We could make another day of it.” Hanging out with her in Portland wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It had worked out last time. I could suck it up for one day.

  “Um, yeah. I guess? That would actually really get me out of a jam. Then my dad wouldn’t have to lie and I could live in my house in peace for as long as it takes for my mom to find out that I’m moving.” She laughed a little and I tried to join her.

  “Seriously, thank you,” she said, wiping her hands off and touching my shoulder. I looked down at her hand. She seemed to realize that she’d violated the “no touching” rule and jerked her hand back.

  “Sorry.” Now I did laugh.

  “You don’t have to ever be sorry for touching me, Remi. Ever.” She gazed up at me and the need to kiss her overwhelmed me. I started to think it was getting to her to because she was subtly pushing herself up to be closer to my mouth. And then she blinked and stepped away.