Candy Crumble

by Shannyn Leah

  But right now, the type of drinking she was doing, he suspected was just to forget her pain.

  Riley understood this category of mixing drinking with sorrow. The combination only landed a person flat on their ass and alone, after chasing away everyone who cared for them.

  That thought almost had Riley turning around.

  What was he thinking? Who was he to try and help Abby?

  His dreadful past painted a picture of where Abby’s future was headed if she continued down this path of masking her pain with alcohol. His present life was the result of that path and there was blood on his hands, tears on his hide, and he’d caused more pain than he could fix to people he loved.

  Nothing would bring his daughter back. Nothing would bring back her mother.

  Riley should have walked away and if Abby had been anyone else, he might have. Abby was like a daughter to Mrs. C and Riley owed Mrs. C. his life...even if nights dragged his life to empty roads hoping to end it. Riley helping Abby had nothing to do with him. It was for Mrs. C and the kindness she’d shown him when all she should have given him was a boot to the curb.

  He climbed the backstairs.

  Abby’s glazed eyes spotted him right away. “Ohh. If it isn’t badass Riley Boyd.” She dragged his name out adding a whistle at the end. Quite the opposite of her shy, thanks earlier.

  “And what do I owe this amazing surprise visit from my amazing stalker biker man?” She lowered her tone and whispered, “Did you run out of toilet paper in the bat cave?”

  She was really drunk.

  Stretched out on the porch swing, Abby sat up suddenly, pulling her legs from their resting spot on the railing in front of her. Her brown eyes lit up under the porch light. “If you were a super hero what kind of powers would you posses?” she asked like it was a seriously vital question. “I would love to fly across the city with you. Or swing from rooftops.” She gasped, sent him a seductive grin and in a bedroom voice said, “You can take me to any one of your dark, dreary lairs.”

  Riley wasn’t as impressed with her trail of thoughts as she was. In fact, he was downright pissed off. She had a funeral in the morning. Her grandmother’s funeral. Grace was the most important person in Abby’s life. The last thing she needed was to be hung-over while she said goodbye. It was her only chance to say goodbye.

  He’d bailed on his chance to say goodbye to his daughter and Dani at the funeral. Instead, he’d done exactly what Abby was doing, drank it away...and shot himself up the arm with some easily accessible drugs from his clients to forget that day or the reason they were both in caskets.

  “You’re drunk,” he stated the obvious.

  Abby sighed and leaned back, rolling her eyes as she took another drink.

  “I’m a McAdams. We’re all drunks,” she said and wiped the back of her hand across her lips where some of the liquid had dripped down her chin.

  Against Riley’s better judgement, which was to turn around and walk away from this sassy girl−he didn’t need this shit−he sat down beside her...out of respect for Mrs. C.

  Abby snatched her feet up as he did and wrapped her arms around him staring−no glaring−at him.

  “I’m sorry. Are you lost?”

  “I liked you better when you weren’t talking.” Silence was becoming on her.

  Abby laughed. “Everyone knows quiet isn’t me. I’m Abby McAdams. Wild and untamed. I say whatever I want, do whatever I want or whoever I want, and I don’t give a shit whether people like me or not. You liked the quiet Abby? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, I ain’t quiet, and you are on the wrong back deck. Unless of course, you’re looking for a quick lay...”

  “I’m not.”

  Using her elbows, she spread her knees apart. “...I have been thinking about this exact moment since the first day I saw you. I bet you’re a rough lover. Are you a rough lover?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She shrugged and sat back.

  “Where are your sisters?” Riley asked.

  “Where are your sisters? Oh wait, do you have any sisters? I don’t know anything about you. Nothing. Why would I tell you where my sisters are if you don’t share your life with me?”

  He supposed on some level that was fair. “Maybe you should talk to them.”

  “Maybe you should talk to them.”

  He swore if she repeated his words again, he was going to drag her kicking and screaming until they found her sisters.

  “Maybe you should stop talking all together, because that seems to be what you’re best at. And stalking people. And hiding in the dark. You are kind of creepy.” Abby lifted the bottle to her mouth for another drink.

  “Not the solution,” Riley said. If anyone knew it was Riley.

  He took it away and set it on the table beside him.

  “Hey!” Abby objected, following the bottle. He pushed her back into a sitting position and she pouted and glared at him with her arms crossed.

  “You don’t need this to be happy,” he said.

  “I’m not drinking it to be happy you asshole. Now give it back.”

  “Did you listen to Grace at all?”

  He watched the expression on her face fall. He didn’t like it. Bringing up the person behind her pain didn’t make Riley feel good, but Abby couldn’t drink this away. He wouldn’t let her.

  Raw pain stretched across her face and he wanted to reach out and touch her to comfort her hurt. He didn’t dare.

  Riley continued. Someone had to, before she was lost in the liquid. “You won’t find happiness in this drink. It won’t take away the ache that you are trying to bury. Trust me Abby. This is not the solution.”

  “What do you know about solutions?” she spat at him. “You hide everything.”

  “I don’t hide behind a drink that you’ve worked so hard to let go of. Gran helped you to define the difference between drinking your sorrows away and drinking casually. Don’t let the two mix. Don’t lose yourself to one.”

  Abby’s fight fell and Riley took her silence...silence so rare in her it was strange...to say, “Don’t fall off the path and into the ditch that Gran helped you out of.”

  Abby thought about that for a long silent moment. Her eyes didn’t stray from his. Riley would have broken the connection if he didn’t think she needed the support or confirmation that he knew her background.

  Abby pulled her stare away and her little button nose crinkled and her nostrils flared.

  She was getting angry.

  It could be at him or at the fact she was drinking for other reasons than a fun night out with Izzy.

  Abby stood. “Like you care.”

  She moved around him and reached for the bottle. He was quicker. Riley stood grabbing the bottle holding it above her.

  “Riley! Give it back!”

  Abby wasn’t shy. She jumped up reaching for it, clutching handfuls of his jacket to give her leverage, practically climbing on him like a wild monkey...a drunken wild monkey.

  Riley poured the contents of the bottle in the garden over the railing before tossing the empty bottle onto the grass in the dark backyard.

  Abby was fuming. “What the hell Riley?” she squealed, her eyes following the bottle to the ground.

  She glared back at him with anger he’d never seen in her before. Her hands were still grasping fist full’s of his leather jacket. Standing on her tip-toes, her body pressed up against the length of him. He thought she might slap him across the face. He was expecting it.

  Then she kissed him.

  Riley hadn’t been prepared for that. He should have been.

  Her mouth slammed against his hard, prying his unsuspecting lips apart and slipping her tongue inside before he had a moment to even comprehend what was going on. Her tongue found his and the taste of vodka tingled his memory. This was his drug.

  Three-hundred and seventy-one days sober today. Over a year. He repeated it...and again.

  The flavor dragged him down with Abby. There was nowhere in his mind to
notice how good she felt against his body, how delicious her lips tasted, because all he could grasp was, three hundred and seventy-one days. This had to stop before Riley ended up licking the vodka off the grass.

  He grabbed Abby’s shoulder and pulled her away, stepping back at the same time.

  “I won’t be your boy toy,” Riley said. “I can be your friend, but not your toy.”

  Abby was ready to fight him. He could see it in her the way her lips parted and her eyes blazed, and he could feel her protesting body.

  She surprised him when all that came out was one simple question. “A friend?”

  A friend? A friend! No. What? Had he just said that? Why the hell did he just say that!

  “You don’t even like me,” she said in a serious tone.

  “I like Grace.”

  “Liked Grace,” Abby corrected. “She’s dead. We’re burying her tomorrow.”

  His voice softened and he forgot about his desire to chase the vodka bottle. “I know.”

  “So Gran’s the reason you’re here. Or Mrs. C right? Not because you want to be my friend, but because you feel obligated in some weird demented way.” She forced a laugh out. “That’s why you followed me to the funeral home this morning. Because you’re trying to protect me. For them. Not even for me. Just for them.”

  He didn’t know how to answer her when her assumption was right and she looked devastated at the reality. When she said it like that she made him seem heartless, when he was trying to be considerate.

  “Abby...”

  She pulled away.

  “I don’t need a friend. And I don’t need another pity party or some mixed up excuse to stalk me. Please go Riley. Gran’s dead. You can’t please a dead person.”

  Abby walked past him. He stood there until she slammed the door shut.

  Good. He didn’t need a friend either.

  Riley headed back to his apartment, grabbing his helmet on the way.

  He wasn’t looking for friendship and wasn’t even sure why that had come out. He wasn’t offering her his friendship. He wasn’t even sure if he really liked Abby...but he made it a point not to like anyone. Debating this would get him nowhere.

  Abby was better without him. Riley was a disease that crumbled people’s lives from the inside.

  Chapter Five

  THE NEXT MORNING Abby dragged her feet from bed and to the kitchen. This was not going to be a good day. Not only was today Gran’s funeral, but her head was pounding with a hangover that traveled through her entire exhausted body...and Riley.

  Ugh.

  She couldn’t even think about their interaction the night before. How embarrassing, and Abby wasn’t easily embarrassed.

  All her sisters greeted her with a “Good Morning” and smiles on their faces.

  Abby paused in the doorway. Her eyes hurt from crying and her hair stuck up, frazzled in every direction. She only wore one of her brother Avery’s band shirts that hung just below her underwear. She wasn’t ready for company.

  “What are you all doing here?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

  They were already clothed for the funeral wearing cute black dresses, their hair styled and makeup fresh.

  “We are here to rage,” Peyton announced so proud.

  Rage? What was she talking about? Abby needed a coffee before she got into any raging with her sisters.

  “I’m pissed I never opened my own business,” Peyton started.

  Abby looked between her sisters totally lost. “Huh?” she asked.

  “I’m pissed I missed all my teenage years because I got preggo at sixteen,” Sydney said. “Although I love Haylee and wouldn’t trade her for anything,” she clarified quickly.

  Peyton slanted a look in Sydney’s direction. “Isn’t that like cheating? You can’t add a positive to a negative or it equals it out.”

  Huh?

  “I think we will let that slide because we all love Haylee,” Kate interjected. “But how about last time, cause technically that’s not raging, it’s rationalizing.” The sisters nodded agreeing.

  Abby was still lost. “What is going on?” she asked.

  “I’m pissed that I slept with my married boss,” Kate continued.

  “I’m pissed I didn’t sleep with my married boss,” Peyton said then gasped. “Oh Sydney you say it, tell us you’re pissed you slept with Jake and then rationalize because you’re actually happy you did.”

  “I didn’t sleep with Jake,” Sydney said.

  Why were they talking about sex?

  “You should.” Peyton winked at her sister.

  Peyton and Sydney went into a debate that didn’t end until Kate whistled for their attention, doubling the volume of pain in Abby’s head.

  “Your turn,” Kate said to Abby.

  My turn? My turn! “You three are crazy,” she said instead.

  “Come on Abby, rage it out,” Kate encouraged.

  Abby glanced at the empty coffee maker. “I’m pissed you drank all my coffee.”

  “Oh don’t worry, there’s a cup for you,” Sydney quickly poured a cup of the gross burnt-on the bottom coffee and handed it to Abby. “You look like you need this.”

  “That’s rude,” Abby said, but smiled as she inhaled the aroma. Deliciousness all wrapped up in a little mug that she would enjoy better if she were alone. Riley popped back into Abby’s mind and she could have died recalling the kiss and his rejection. She could melt into the cup of coffee from humiliation. Alone was exactly where she should be.

  “I’m pissed mom died,” Kate said.

  Abby choked on her coffee. Why was she bringing Mom up?

  “I’m pissed Gran died.”

  Abby gasped at her sister’s ignorant words. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “It won’t bring her back. It won’t bring Gran back.”

  “Say it,” Kate encouraged.

  Say what? That she was angry her mother and grandmother died? “No.”

  “Don’t you hide away and blame the world Abigail McAdams. This stuff happens and there’s nothing we can do about it except be pissed, support each other, accept it and move on.”

  Wasn’t that calling the kettle black?

  Abby set her coffee on the counter beside her. “What do you want me to do Kate? Move away like you? Is that moving on enough?”

  “Abby’s pissed Kate moved away,” Peyton chimed in.

  “I’m pissed I moved away.”

  She was pissed she’d moved away? Was she serious? She’d destroyed so many lives by leaving.

  “Then you shouldn’t have,” Abby yelled at her.

  “I can’t change it now Abby. And if this bothered you so much why are you just telling me now?”

  Abby hadn’t meant to. She didn’t know why this stupid imaginary game they made up cracked her silence. But now that it was out there, she couldn’t brush it off.

  “Because my third mother just died and I’m pissed my second one left me here after my first one died and now I’m all alone.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I left Gran alone that night and didn’t come home until morning and you know why?” The girls shrugged. “Because I was off drinking...like Dad.” She glared at Kate. “When you left I took my first sip of alcohol and two years later I was just like this...” She ran her hands across the front of her. “...a horrible hangover the next morning and I’m going to likely vomit in the funeral home. And now you two will be gone and Sydney will be over at her other life and I will be alone with Dad. Just like when you left the first time. A drunk, just like Dad. And this time I won’t have Gran to come pick me up and put me back together!”

  Abby’s body went from feeling relieved as the words passed her lips to feeling defeated and plummeting into the pit of sympathy. She’d said it all. Everything. Except her drunken nights usually involved a man. They didn’t need that much detail.

  “Abby sit down.” Kate pulled a chair out and Abby collapsed into it, setting her mug on the table.

  “Are you an alcoholic?” Kate
asked.

  No. “I drink. I get drunk.”

  Kate raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow. This new sophisticated proper side of her was so different than the woman who had raised Abby. The woman who had worked at The Caliendo Resort coming home with dirt in her hair and grease across her face.

  “You know the difference,” Kate said.

  “It’s in our genes,” she argued. “Dad’s doomed us all.”

  “Abby...”

  “Well, I’m scared I’m going to end up like him.”

  Kate rubbed her bare arm and Abby absorbed the comfort her touch gave. “I know you won’t. Gran certainly didn’t think you would and you will always have the three of us. Plus Avery. We are your family. It doesn’t matter how far away we are, we are only one phone call away. We love you kid.”

  Uninvited tears streamed down Abby’s face.

  Sydney was the sweet one of the sisters and when she spoke it was full of grace. “And Abby you couldn’t have helped Gran. Even if you had been here, she died in her sleep. You would have never known sleeping in the room next to her,” Sydney explained. “And she would never want you to blame yourself. Ever.”

  Kate passed Abby some tissues and she blew her nose.

  Her sisters laughed at the loudness of it.

  “What?” Abby asked innocently then looked at Kate. “Why didn’t you say you’re pissed you had to raise us? The first opportunity you got you left.”

  “I’m not angry that I had to raise you and Avery. I’m sad Mom died. I’m sad Dad drank. I’m sad Gran was so sad, but I loved all of you.” Abby knew that was true. “I’m pissed I left you.”

  Abby wished she’d been recording this conversation on her phone. If her sisters heard themselves over using such a curse, they would be mortified.

  Kate continued. “I never should have left when you were only fifteen but all of a sudden I had the opportunity to get a career and make money rather than working a minimum wage job. I was selfish. I’m sorry. I should have gone to school here and I should have stayed with you two until you went to college.” Kate leaned in close. “You’re not an alcoholic.”