by Shelly Crane
God, help me...I had to talk to Mason and Emma.
I thought about Roz—about what he said he was going to do to me, about what that was going to do to Maya to lose her brother and then me right after that. Maybe that was vain to think so highly of myself, but I just hoped and prayed she survived it. I hoped she could look back on the same reasons she didn't take that drink this time and use them for next time.
I set her in the seat right next to me, keeping my arms around her, and drove the short distance to her apartment. Mason was pacing and Emma's gasp stopped me when I came in carrying a now passed out Maya. "Oh, my gosh, Milo. Is she all right?"
"She's okay," I assured her and kept walking back to Maya's bedroom. "She went to this place she took me to a couple of times. I found her there, but she was okay. She just…"
"You don't have to explain," Mason said. I laid her on the bed and looked over my shoulder at him. "I can imagine what she's going through. We got a hotel for the night. We'll be back in the morning. Do you need anything before we go?"
"Nah, man. I'm OK," I told him, taking her shoes off, but refusing to look at him.
"Milo," he called.
"Hmm?"
"Milo?" he called harder.
"What?" I whispered as I stared at the bed next to her. Before I knew it, he was wrapping his arms around me and pounding his fists on my back.
"I'm so sorry," he said, the sincerity pouring off him. "I'm sorry she lost her brother and you lost your friend, and everyone in both of your lives seems to leave for one reason or another." He leaned back and gripped the back of my neck, putting his head almost to mine as he spoke hard. "But know this—I'm not running out, I'm not leaving, I'm not walking away. I'll be back. Anytime, as fast and as long as you need me. You got me? For you and for Maya." I stared at the face that had been the only person to never walk out on me. "I never left, Milo." His cheek jumped as he stared at me. "I never left. I never stopped looking for you."
"I know, Mase."
"I won't ever leave."
"You never did, Mason. I know that." He breathed loudly through his nose and held onto me tightly. "It was me who let you down. I gave up. I was the coward. You held on and I let go. I didn't want to deal with my grief and it was easier to just blame someone. Thank you…for never giving up on me."
"Never," he growled and hugged me hard.
Maya rolled and moaned a little in her sleep. Mason leaned back, but looked me in the eyes. "We'll be back in the morning. She can get the funeral expedited if she wants, up to her, so she doesn't have to just keep waiting for it. That's the part that would kill me, I think. Something to think about."
I nodded. "We'll be here. I, uh…have some things to talk to you about in the morning."
"What's that?"
I almost lied. Almost. "Roz came to see me."
He turned pale as the moonlight coming in from the window. I nodded. There was no point in sugarcoating it. "First, let's just get Maya through this," I told him, "and then…I don't know what'll happen, but promise me you'll take care of—"
"Shut up," he growled and backed away. "Shut up. No, we'll figure something out."
"What? All of us are going to run away and hide out together? Maya and Mom and her nurse, too?" I shook my head. "No, Mason. It's no good. Look, no more talking about it tonight. I just didn't want to lie to you. I wanted you to know he knew where I was."
"How?"
"When Maya's brother…when he… I was pretty upset. I accidentally blurted my old name to the cops when they took my statement. You know Roz has his pocket cops. Didn't take them long to find me."
He sighed, his shoulders sagging. "No…"
"I'm sorry, Mase."
He looked so beaten. "I…"
"Look, go on to the hotel. Get some sleep." I rubbed my face and looked down at Maya. "One day at a time. Tomorrow, I need to help Maya, then I'll worry about me. A cop came to my apartment earlier. That's the only thing that stopped them today. Roz said he'd be back after the funeral."
He blinked. "I can't just go."
"You can. Take Emma and the baby to get some sleep. Go. I'll be fine."
It took some more convincing, but once he was gone, I laid down with my girl and wrapped my arms around her from behind. I tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled her hips to mine, but didn't need to. She nestled in, tucking herself into every place possible. I put my arm under her head and pulled the blanket over us.
Kissing the back of her neck, I sighed into the soft skin there.
"I'll be right here," I promised, but it broke my heart that I would be breaking that promise soon. Not just the promise I made her, but the promise I made to Will as well. I said I would watch over her and not leave her when he was gone, but I didn't know what to do now.
If I left, Roz would just use them, hurt them, to make me come back. If I stayed, he was going to kill me no matter what I did because I was a loose end. The police couldn't help me, just like they couldn't help me back then.
I was going to have to face this alone.
Maya
I woke with a cry-headache, which was worse than a hangover if you asked me. The instant balm to my ache was the feel of Milo's arms around me. The events of yesterday and last night crashed down around me and I sagged, the instantaneous guilt almost too much to bear. The forceful sigh pushed from my lips as I remembered how sure I was that all I needed to do was get away and find some pills, but in the end, a bottle was the easiest thing to get, so that's what I had done.
In the end, Milo's love and trust had saved me. If he had never come along, Will would still be dead right now, and I would be drunk somewhere, numb and gone to the world for the rest of my days. I had no doubt of that. Because as much as Milo says I taught him what being an addict meant, he had taught me a lot, too.
I turned in his arms as slowly as I could, so as not to wake him, but when I got on my side, I found his eyes already open watching, gauging me. "Hey," I whispered lamely.
He spoke softly. "Again, I know this is the dumbest question ever, but is it a little better? Is there anything I can do for you today?"
"You're doing it," I told him. I stuck one of my legs between his and put my arms around him. His big warm hand crept up the back of my shirt to settle on the middle of my back. "I'm better than yesterday. That's saying something." I cleared my throat. "Not once last night did you use the Will wouldn’t want you to do this card." I played with the creases on his shirt. "Why not?"
"Because you taught me that addicts have to do it for themselves. I didn't want you to do it for Will. I didn't want you to do it for me. I wanted you to do it for you."
I nodded, so proud of him for how much he had grown in the short time I'd know him. He didn't think he had, but he had. "I'm so sorry about last night."
He shook his head. "I know why you were angry yesterday and needed to get away from me."
"From you?" I asked. "Why would I be angry with you?"
"I'm sorry, Maya." And he did look sorry. "I'm so sorry. I told you that ice cream and going out into the cold for dinner and all that hell didn't matter; to give him a break." He laughed angrily and turned his head. "I made you feel like you were being too hard on Will. We ganged up on you, and you were right."
I put my hand on his cheek and turned his face to look right at me. "Milo," I whispered and drowned in hazel, bathed in the relief that my brother trusted him and left me in the care of this man. "He had cancer. A bowl of ice cream made no difference. He got to have some fun the last few nights he was alive, and that was thanks to you. If it had been my choice, he would have been cooped up in the house and would have just…" I choked on my words, "died alone while I was at work."
Milo shook his head slowly, not wanting to accept. "Maybe he…"
"Instead, he died with you there. He wasn’t alone," I almost yelled to make him see as I cupped his neck. "He was with you, his friend. I'll never be able to thank you for that."
His eyes were red as he t
ried to fight his anger and grief. "All I wanted to do was save him. I tried to save him for you."
"I know and I love you for that, but…he couldn't be saved. I didn't understand that. We have the people in our lives for the time we have them. We can't dwell on the time that we don't." I moved in and kissed him once. "I'll always be thankful that I got to reconcile with my family and spend this time with Will before he left. I could have been too late."
"The fact that you can look at it that way right now, sweetheart, is pretty amazing." He swiped under my eye. "If I could make this better, I would."
"You are. You're here." He made a pained face for a split second, before it was gone, but I saw it. "What?"
"What do you want for breakfast? And don't tell me you're not hungry."
Mason and Emma arrived shortly after, and we ate Milo's scrambled eggs and toast. Marybeth stopped by again, per Milo, but she didn't grill or scold me. She and Milo kept sharing looks and glances, like they had this secret language now. I hated that they worried about me, but couldn’t deny I had brought that one down on myself. I made sure to hug her extra hard and try to be honest, not hide anything. If I needed to cry; I cried. If I wanted to talk about Will; I did. If something was funny; I tried my best to laugh.
She kept calling Milo "hotshot" over and over and over. It was pretty funny because it irked him so bad, even though I knew she was only doing it to keep the tension from being tight. A couple other people from work stopped by and brought food, but most of the people I knew would wait until the funeral to pay their respects.
I could tell Mason and Emma had no idea where I'd gone yesterday. I should have known Milo would protect me in that way, too. I almost wanted to tell them, just because being open felt like the theme of the day.
And I would tell them, I knew I would, but first Will's funeral had to be arranged. Mason and Milo took me to the funeral home in town, the only one our little town had, and when the funeral director asked me when I wanted to do it, I said as soon as possible. When the details were too much or I didn't understand something, Milo would let me rest in the refuge of his neck and Mason would work out the rest of the details.
When it came down to choices and colors and cost, I froze.
All the money was gone. We used it all on Will's treatments and the apartment, and keeping some back for his funeral just seemed too morbid, but now would probably have been a good idea. He had said it several times, but eventually let it go, and I never brought it up again.
I looked up at the funeral director, the fresh tears for a completely different reason clinging to my lashes, as I fiddled my fingers around my bracelet embarrassingly. "Um…Mr. Price, how much is all that going to cost?"
I had no idea how much a funeral cost. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe they worked with a payment plan or something. No, that was stupid.
"What you have chosen as of now is roughly seven thousand five hundred."
I gasped painfully, my eyes no longer brimmed, but spilling over. "Well…um, there's a little problem. Um, is there anything that's not as expensive as that?"
He looked at me curiously. "Well, that includes the burial plot at the church cemetery beside your parents, of course." I sighed. Oh, God help me. What was I going to do? I leaned forward and put my head in my hands.
"Maya," I heard Mason say as Milo's hand rubbed my back, his side pressed against mine. "We can help if you'll let us."
I lifted my head and looked at him like he was crazy. "Mason, I can't let you."
Mr. Price cleared his throat. "The funeral arrangements have been paid in full already, up to the amount of ten thousand dollars. Anything that's left over after that is to be refunded back to you, Maya."
We all stared at him silently before my squeak broke it. "What did you say?" When he went to answer, I cut him off. "Who? Who paid it? How? When!"
He smiled, amused by my outburst. "I can't believe you didn't know and I'm the one who has to tell you." His smile was one of sadness and a tinge of happiness. "Will came and paid it, Maya." My heart hurt, my vision blurred. He didn't just say Will paid it. "He came months ago. He said his diagnosis was…not good, but you weren't giving up. He wanted to let you have that. He wanted to spend every minute with you with hope that it could be okay, but he knew it wouldn’t. So before the money was gone with all the treatments and bills, he came and paid it. He said he was going to tell you eventually."
"He didn't," I heard myself say, but it didn't sound like me. "Will," I scolded him in a whisper, "how could you not tell me?"
"He was your big brother," Mr. Price reasoned. "It's his job to protect you."
"No matter how much I tried to take care of him, he always still managed to be the one doing it, even if he let me think it was me. I was awful at it, and he was so good." I laughed and sniffed. "So typical."
"He loved you." He smiled. "That boy loved his sister."
"I love him." I looked at Milo and remembered what Milo said Will told him. "And Will's still making sure I'm okay."
"Maya, I've known you and Will since you were little. Your father and I actually had a scuffle over your mother when we were in the eighth grade once." I laughed as a tear slid down my cheek. "This doesn't help you feel better, I know, but I hope you know that just because your family is gone doesn't mean you don't have people here who care about you. Think about that."
"I will. Thank you."
"So, do you want to wait a day or two or a few before the funeral? Or do you want to go ahead and get it done?"
So the next day at eleven in the morning, I sat in the front row left side with Milo and we said goodbye to my brother. The church pews were full to the brim, and I was shocked by it. Honestly, most of those people knew our parents, but we pushed those people away by our actions after our parents died. They had been there waiting for us that whole time, and we just thought they abandoned us.
I thought it was going to be torture to listen to the stories of the couple of people who told stories of my brother, but it wasn't. It actually felt like a really big, albeit bulky and uncooperative, band-aid, but a band-aid nonetheless.
That night at the apartment, people came and went, they ate and looked at the photos strung all over the place. I felt I should put them out, let people see them.
Milo had been my silent rock all day. He hadn't tried to coddle me or coax answers out of me with "Are you okay?"s every five minutes, for which I was grateful. He stood by me, was polite when I introduced him, cleaned dishes and did whatever needed to be done, and I never felt like I needed to do anything to make him comfortable. That was a relief all by itself.
But I could tell something was up. He was letting me get through the day and then I knew he was going to tell me. He wouldn’t lie; I knew it. We were beyond that now. I had no idea what was going on, but I hoped it was something I could survive. Maybe he wanted to move back home to be with his mom and Mason. I didn't know, but as the last few guests were politely shooed away, I knew the time to find out had come.
When our eyes met across the room, he knew it, too. And then I knew he wasn't leaving me. How could he leave? It was obvious he belonged here with me. We practically finished each other's thoughts without even having to say anything.
Mason had taken Emma and the baby back to their hotel a while ago, but was coming back later. He seemed to be in on whatever was going on since he looked really uneasy all day.
"Milo, I know you've had something to tell me. Everyone's gone. Will's in the ground. No more excuses. Please. What the hell's going on?"
He came swiftly and put his hands on my hips, pushing me gently to sit in the chair as he knelt down in front of me. "If I could go back and change it, know that I would do that. I would do anything, pay anything to change it." His eyes were red. He actually looked as if he could cry.
"Baby, you're scaring me."
He leaned up and put his face right up to mine, his palms on my cheeks. "I love you. I love you so much. I don't know how much
time we have, but I want to get you out of here. You have to go with Mason when he gets here. Tomorrow morning, you're going to leave with them, get out of town for a while."
"What? Why?"
"Remember when I told you about the night I left home? The night I got beat up and left the hospital? They wanted me to roll over and give up Roz? I ran and changed my name." I nodded. "When I called 911 for Will and the cops came, I accidentally…gave them my old name. They found me." I gasped. "Roz was at my apartment the other night when I went out looking for you."
"No, Milo. No."
"I told you I wouldn't leave you—"
I got it. I got exactly what he meant. "Let's run. Let's just go."
One side of his mouth rose. "I love that you would do that for me, but he'll use Mason and Mamma against me," he explained softly. "Before, he knew I didn't care, but he knows that I do now."
"Why does he want you so badly?"
"Because I used to work for him. I know all his drop-off spots, all his big buyers, the businesses he uses to run his business through. He made a killin'. And I was a loose end."
"So what are you saying?" I asked him, my throat scratching and aching to hold it together. "You're what? Just going to go home and wait for him to come find you?"
"I don't know what to do, Maya. Anything I do, you get hurt and I break my promise." His jaw hardened and twitched. I smoothed it with my finger.
"So, what? That's it? I go with Mason, and you just go home and wait for Roz to come find you? We can't go to the police because they might kill you, too? Nothing? We don't even try?"
He stared. "I won't risk you. Not for a second. You're going with Mason." He stood. "And I'm going to try to talk to Roz. I won't get your hopes up. I know it won't help, but…it's all I can do. I need to face him alone and take this on by myself."
"Milo, no," I groaned and stood.
He made the most pained face I'd ever seen on him. He cupped my face and kissed me so softly. "Do this for me," he said harder and kissed me again. "I love you, Maya. I love you and I want you to know that what you said about not dwelling on the time that we didn't get to spend with someone, but being thankful for the time we did get with them? I'm so thankful I met you and you got to change me so completely." His lips opened my mouth with his and I knew something was coming, but I just couldn't make myself put things together. I hung on to him and sighed against his lips. "I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for the privilege of letting me catch you."