I hold my palm out and shake my head. “It’s a big misunderstanding.”
“It’s not,” Chloe counters. “I called the social worker. They’ve talked to her, and with your parents’ influence, cheating scandal or not, they have more power.”
Horror flashes through Trey’s eyes. “I’ll never live with anyone else. Fuck that.”
“Trey, watch your mouth,” Chloe warns.
He shrugs. “Ground me. Do whatever. I’ve already lost enough anyway.”
Chloe looks at me. “Kyle, please leave. It’s over. We’re over. Thank you for all you’ve done, but please, go home.”
“Chloe.” I draw out her name while fighting for the right words.
“Please,” she begs.
It’s too late. Even if I find the words, it’s done.
I nod. “Thank you for clarifying all I needed to know. I’m glad this meant nothing to you.”
With that, I grab my shit and leave.
Twenty-Nine
Chloe
Smiles.
Funerals are full of them.
An entire range of smiles is what I’ve received today.
I never want to smile and thank someone for coming again.
The church is filled with people smiling while paying their respects. It should make me feel good for the support, but instead, it angers me. Most of these people didn’t care about her kind until tragedy hit. Parents are here, who denied their children playdates with her because of where she came from. Even Mrs. Garfield shoots me an apologetic smile, a hint of shame in her eyes, when it’s her turn to give her condolences.
Gloria’s casket is small, and the bright pink flowers Trey picked out lie atop it. She’s wearing her Dorothy costume, and her stuffed Toto is nestled at her side. I came early before the showing, sat in front of her casket, and apologized. I should’ve never trusted Claudia with her. Never. That’s on me. Our little Dorothy will be buried today because of my stupid judgment.
When I look at her, it’s a deeper cut into my heart, but I won’t quit torturing myself. Every heart-shattering glance is worth it because, after today, I’ll never be able to do it again. All I’ll have is photos.
Adjusting to life without Gloria is a mixture of emotions—denial, disbelief, anger, regret, and sadness. As she was the youngest, Trey and I made Gloria the priority of our lives, and now, she’s gone even though all the evidence of the space she filled in our hearts is everywhere.
Claudia put in a request to attend the funeral, but it was denied. Denied by Mayor Lane. She’s facing a long list of charges for Gloria’s death, including vehicular manslaughter. I haven’t visited her again and don’t plan to. Trey’s attitude hasn’t changed in the matter either.
I take a seat in the front row and look over to the corner where Kyle has stood since he came in. He’s kept his distance, but even that is comforting. I never doubted he’d show.
I catch a glimpse of his family a few rows back—including his father. Sierra reached out to Trey a few days ago, inviting him over to her house for dinner. I’m not dumb. They want to warm themselves up to him. He declined, but he was nice about it. It’s his sister, and he’s having trouble coming to terms with that. He lost a sister, and now, a new one is coming around.
I’ve felt guilt over my wanting custody of him. He’ll have more money, growing up as a Lane, but I can’t lose him. I’ve already lost Gloria, and I won’t survive another loss. I’m also not too selfish; if the time comes and Trey does want to live with them, I’d let him go.
I’d let him go because, unlike everyone else, it’s his happiness that matters to me.
I look over when Kyle sits down next to me. There’s been an empty chair there since I sat down. It’s almost as if no one dared to take it.
“Hi,” he says.
Him being at my side eases me.
“Hi,” I reply.
When the service starts and the tears hit, he grabs my hand. I squeeze it tight. Trey gives the eulogy, keeping his sobs together to say his words. I’m mentally and physically depleted when it ends.
“Thank you for coming,” I whisper as people clear out of the church.
“Always,” he says.
The three of us stand, and Kyle looks from me to Trey. “I’m right next door and not going anywhere. If you need anything—sugar, a friend, a hug—you guys come knocking, okay?”
Trey and I nod.
His offer makes me smile for a brief moment—something I haven’t done in what seems like weeks.
The loss of Gloria hits Trey the hardest when we arrive home.
He plucks a picture of her from the fridge, sets it down on the table next to the pizza we picked up, and stares at it, tears resurfacing. “I wouldn’t even dress up as a stupid scarecrow for her!” he says through sobs. “That’s all she wanted—for her big brother to go trick-or-treating with her—and I let her down because I was being a stupid hard-ass.” He ducks his head down in humiliation … anger … sadness. “God, what I’d do to have her back. I’d dress up as a scarecrow every day of my life. I’d do anything—anything—for her to be next to me right now.”
I get up from my chair, stand behind him, and wrap my arms around his shoulders.
I don’t know how long we cry and stare at her.
When Trey goes to bed, the pizza untouched, I tread into my bedroom.
Reality sinks through, drowning me like an anchor, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to reach the surface again. I slide down the wall, raise my knees, and slack forward. I want to break down in tears but scream out in anger. Every emotion for every shitty thing in my life is finally pouring out of me like an overflowing stream.
A knock on the door breaks me away from my thoughts, and I sniffle, wiping my nose with my arm. The door opens, and I hear someone walk in. I shut my eyes and release a breath at his scent.
“Trey let me in,” Kyle whispers into the darkness of my bedroom. I vaguely see his hand held out to me. “Come here.”
I shake my head. “I need to get this out.”
He nods, but instead of leaving, he slides down the wall and sits next to me. “Then, get it out.”
He doesn’t talk or touch me again. He sits there, assuring me I’m not alone, until I fall asleep.
When I wake up, he’s gone.
Thirty
Chloe
Gloria’s funeral was two days ago.
I’ve kept to myself, and Trey has done the same—playing video games and Netflix-bingeing. My phone keeps alerting me with reminders to call the social worker regarding Trey, but when I pick up the phone to do it, I can’t. I’m scared. The fear of what she’ll tell me knocks back my energy into making the call. I’m biding my time until they come knocking on the door, and I’ll ready to fight like hell when they do.
My shoulders tense when I hear the doorbell ring, and my legs feel weak when I walk to the door. I question myself on answering when I look through the peephole, and worry seeps through me when I answer.
Nancy Lane is standing in front of me.
My breath catches in my throat while I wait for her to speak. I’m at a loss for words.
“Hi, Chloe,” she bursts out in a sweet tone. “Can we talk?”
I blink, and it takes me a moment to reply. “Sure.”
This is it.
This is where she tells Trey to pack his bags and leave me.
I lead her into my living room, and neither one of us is relaxed when we sit on the couch.
She cuts straight to the point. “I’m aware Claudia informed you that Michael and I felt it was in Trey’s best interest if we raised him.”
I grimace and ball my knuckles. “She did, and I respectively disagree.” I’m biting back the angry words I want to scream at her.
“It seems you’re not the only one.”
Her response surprises me.
“I’m sorry … what?”
Her eyes are glossy, and she places a finger underneath her nose as she tilts her h
ead down. “I want to apologize.” She blinks away tears. “I’m sorry if I’m being too emotional. Kyle came to talk to me. He explained that you’ve been the sole caretaker for Trey, that, since he was a baby, it’s always been you. He asked me how I’d feel if someone tried to take my children away from me, and his words made me understand. My heart hurts if I caused you any pain. I only wanted to help Trey, but I understand now that helping him is having you. Trey can stay with you. Michael and I will not be pursuing any type of custody battle, and we have no issue with helping if need be—whether it be money, school assistance, anything like that. We’re here.” She sucks in a breath. “And, when you two feel comfortable, I’d love to get to know him. So would his brother and sisters.”
Tears fill my eyes. “Thank you,” I blurt out, my voice thick with emotions, so many damn emotions. “Thank you so much.” I pull in a breath and wipe away my tears before clearing my throat. “And I’m sorry … for keeping everything from you … and, uh … taking money away from your family.”
She shakes her head. “Honey, you did that for those kids. Michael told me he had the checks made out to you because he knew you’d do the right thing and that you stopped accepting them when you had enough money to help them yourself. You doing that, even against your better judgment, only further proves how much you care for them.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “And I am so, so very sorry about your loss.”
We’re both crying as we stand, and she wraps her arms around me before leaving. “My door is always open.” She hands me a piece of paper when we separate. “Here’s my number. If you need anything, Chloe, please let me know.”
I sniffle. “Thank you again.”
She gives me one last look before leaving. “Now, I understand why my son loves you so much.” She sighs. “With four children, I try to steer clear of their love lives, but Kyle cares for you deeply. He’s not perfect, and sometimes, he doesn’t think before he speaks. But he’s ready to take on every broken piece of you, and hopefully, you’re willing to do the same with him.”
Thirty-One
Kyle
I’ve told Chloe good morning for the past week.
I’m not greeted with curse words or finger signals.
I get a small glimmer of a smile and a bowed head.
That’s it.
I should appreciate her lack of telling me to fuck off but don’t. It further proves every light inside her has dimmed.
My family’s disdain toward Chloe has lowered. We sat down after the funeral and all came to the understanding that she’s not the bad person; he is.
I haven’t forgiven my father, but I am giving him credit for stepping up. When he realized my mother was finally going to walk away, it sucker-punched him. My mom ignored his infidelities before because they were hidden, but when they were released in the open, that did her in. Not to mention, he produced a child with his mistress years ago. My siblings and I had begged her to leave him, but she didn’t want to lose her family. I didn’t agree with her decision, but I accepted it because I love her. She asked us to work on not hating our father, so for her, I’ve tried to keep a straight face and not punch him when he’s around. But no matter what, I’ll never have respect for him.
I slam the door shut after getting into the car with Gage. He’s my best friend, but lately, he’s proven to be more than that. He was there for Gloria’s funeral, and that was a big step for him. Gage isn’t one who frequents funerals, especially children’s funerals, after what he experienced in Chicago. He came for me. He kicked away those fears for me.
He jerks his head toward Chloe’s house. “Have you gone over and talked to her yet?”
He asks this every day.
I give him the same reply every day.
I shake my head and rub at my eyes. If you don’t count my good mornings, then no. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“She hasn’t mentioned your mom’s visit to her?”
“No.”
“Use it as a conversation starter. Knock on her door and deliver the news as if you didn’t know your mom had paid her a visit. You wanted to make sure she knew.”
I blow out a breath. “I’m giving her time to grieve.”
“You are one patient man.”
“Hey there. New job?”
Trey is squatted down and sliding cans on a lower shelf in a grocery aisle at Garfield’s. The last time I saw him here was for shoplifting, and now, they’ve given him a job.
Good for him.
Trey looks up at me with a nod before standing up. “Yeah. I need something to help pass my time before my mind goes crazy.” His voice lowers. “I don’t have a little sister to look after anymore, so it’s all I think about in my downtime.”
I’ve debated on reaching out to Trey after the funeral. I told them my door is open, so when they’re ready, I’m ready.
I give him a hopeful look. “I’m sorry, buddy. My door is always open if you want to talk or hang out,” I offer again.
He smiles and plays with the collar of his red work shirt. “I’m sorry for what I said when I eavesdropped on the conversation about your parents wanting custody of me. I was pissed. It was nothing against you.”
I smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
He kicks his feet against the ground. “But I’m down for whatever. I got a new number.”
He fishes his phone from his pocket. I grab mine, and we recite our numbers to each other.
“You know,” he starts with hesitation, “I’ve always wanted a big brother.”
I wink. “You have one now.”
He grins wider before pointing to my cart. “That’s a lot of food.”
“My parents are having a dinner on Christmas. You’re more than welcome to come with me if you’d like.”
“Maybe. Aunt Chloe is making dinner on Christmas.”
“That’s scary,” I joke.
He laughs. “I know, right? She wants us to have a traditional Christmas dinner.” He pauses, and all friendliness on his face has disappeared and is replaced with sadness. “I’m worried about her. Gloria and I always spent the day with her, and now …”
I nod in response. “You be there for her, okay?”
“I’m trying my hardest to.”
Trey texts me the next day.
He asked Chloe if it was okay for him to hang out with me, and she approved.
We go out for pizza, and I take him to the arcade. We have a blast. He says Melanie has been hanging out at the house to keep Chloe’s spirits up. He’s still worried about her, and he knows she’s hiding her sadness.
We brainstorm, coming up with ideas to help her through her pain.
Thirty-Two
Chloe
Christmas has never been exciting for me.
The holidays were never bright and cheery, growing up. When I was younger, I didn’t know how I always managed to be on the naughty list. No matter how good I acted, Santa never visited our house. I never received coal either, so it was a confusing time for me. I promised myself that Trey and Gloria would never doubt where they stood with Santa. I worked my ass off to give them a decent Christmas every year.
This year, I’ve made an entire Christmas dinner with more food than Trey and I could eat in a month.
“I wish she were here with us,” Trey mutters when I hand him his first gift. He frowns at the box, as if it’s wrong for him to open it.
My brows scrunch together when he drops the box and grabs his phone after it beeps with a text message.
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “I forgot to tell you that Mr. Garfield said they had extra pies at the market that are close to expiring, so they’re dropping them off.”
Trey brought up getting a job to me three days after Gloria’s funeral. He needed a hobby to take his mind off his mother going to prison and his sister’s death. I agreed and was surprised when he told me he’d been hired at Garfield’s Grocery.
I’m doing the same. I work as often as I can and considered looking
into a second job—not for financial reasons, but to keep my mind off my problems as well. Melanie has made it her mission to be my sidekick at all times, and even though I act like it’s driving me crazy, I appreciate her company.
Then, there’s Kyle. I feel terrible for not thanking him for talking to his mother. It’s a bitch move on my part, but I’m terrified. He hasn’t reached out since the night he consoled me and then disappeared, which I don’t blame him for.
I sigh. Tomorrow, I’m going to his house and apologizing for my outburst, for kicking him out of my house, for not telling him everything about his father, and for not giving him a hug for saving me from the heartache of losing Trey.
I uncross my legs and stand up from the floor. “Aw, that’s nice of them.”
He pulls on his boots. “Can you give me a hand? They’re old and it’s snowing, so we should probably help them.”
“Of course.”
I put my shoes on and throw on a coat. “Are they not here yet?” I ask, shivering when we walk outside.
Trey is typing on his phone. “Hold on. They’re texting me now.”
I raise a brow in confusion. “The Garfields know how to text?”
He doesn’t answer me, and seconds later, the abrupt sound of his voice cuts through the morning air. The deep voice brims with an overflow of emotions.
“Merry Christmas to the girl I love!”
My attention sweeps over to Kyle’s porch to find him standing there, shirtless, wearing only his gray sweatpants, looking the same as he did every day before we started our relationship. A Santa hat is on his head, and I can’t hold back my burst of laughter—my first loud, belly-aching laughter I’ve had in months.
“You’re going to get hypothermia!” I yell back in exchange for, Fuck off.
Just Neighbors Page 23