by Jewel E. Ann
“Henna. If you don’t leave now, I’ll have you escorted out of the building.”
I jerk on the doors. “BODHI!” Tears burn my eyes as Gail tells the secretary to call the school security guard.
My fists bang on the glass. “BODHI!”
The security guard runs down the hallway toward the doors I’m trying to open. His hand is on his holstered gun.
What the fuck?
“Miss, step back from the door,” he calls through the door before opening it.
My eyes stay focused on his hand as it flips the snap on his holster. Stepping back, breathless and shocked that I’m considered a threat worthy of a drawn weapon, I hold up my hands.
Keeping his hand readied, he opens the door.
I blink out more tears, silenced by how long it’s been since I’ve been here and how unwelcome I am here, even now. But more than that, I’m still forbidden to see Bodhi inside these walls.
“Ms. Lane needs to be escorted to her car.” Principal Rafferty steps between me and the school security guard.
“I love him,” I whisper. “And he loves me. So go fuck yourself. I wish it were you that died today, not his …”
“Henna?”
I glance over Gail’s shoulder and past the security guard at Bodhi. His brow is wrinkled, his eyes wandering as he tries to assess the situation.
“Bodhi …” my voice cracks as I push past Gail.
The security guard grabs me.
“Bodhi!”
“Pete, get your fucking hands off her!” Bodhi’s booming voice sends all heads in his direction as Pete releases me and I run into Bodhi’s arms.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers in my ear as he cups the back of my head. Those two words stumble a bit like he knows something is wrong—like he’s bracing for my answer.
No amount of bracing can protect him from the pain. It’s just not possible. So I don’t wait a second longer because I can no longer bear the burden of truth alone.
“He never woke up.”
Bodhi releases me. His hands grab my face as his eyes narrow and fill with the truth. He knows, even if it hurts too much to admit. He knows.
“Henna …” He swallows hard.
“I’m sorry.”
His hands fall from my face. The few people around us step back.
Bodhi’s jaw clenches as his face distorts to keep it together. He opens his mouth several times to speak, but swallows instead to keep his composure. “He killed himself?”
My nose and eyes burn as I blink out several big tears. “He didn’t wake up, Bodhi. His body was just … done.” I hate that we’re sharing these words in front of an audience. I hate that I so easily hand him a lie wrapped in the truth, and that there’s no going back now.
He nods slowly, gaze on me, but not really on me at all. Holding out my hand, I wait for him to take it. Bodhi makes a slow, lifeless glance around at the secretary, Gail, and the security guard, then he takes my hand.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
WE LAY BARRETT Henry Malone to rest next to his wife on a sunny Thursday morning in May. Bella stands next to Bodhi on one side while I stand on his other side, holding his hand. I’m surprised how many friends are here. Not just Barrett’s friends, but most of the teachers from the school, including Principal Rafferty and a handful of students. Even Bella has friends from Kentucky who flew in for the funeral.
When the graveside ceremony ends, I join my parents and Zach by the limo while Bodhi and Bella watch the casket get lowered into the ground. Since she arrived the day after he died, I haven’t seen Bella shed one tear. At first I thought she was angry, but it’s just her personality. She’s been very matter-of-factly making funeral arrangements, even helping friends and family find hotel accommodations.
But right now, she looks utterly deflated, just like Bodhi. Adult orphans before the age of thirty.
“Did I mess up?” I whisper to my mom as she squeezes my hand while we watch Bella and Bodhi.
Bella’s ironclad composure crumbles when the casket disappears below the earth. Bodhi’s hand slowly reaches for hers. When she takes his hand, he turns, pulling her into his embrace.
Mom squeezes my hand again. “No, sweetie.”
As much as I want to be by Bodhi’s side to comfort him, I know that’s not my place right now, so I climb into the limo and head back to the Malone’s house where family and a few close friends gather for a lunch that my mom arranged.
I disposed of the prescription bag and bottle two days ago, but when we arrive at the house, I make a quick sweep of his bedroom and bathroom to make sure nothing got missed.
“Hey.”
I jump, turning away from the vanity in Barrett’s bathroom, easing the drawer shut.
“Hey.” I step right into Bodhi’s body, wrapping my arms around him.
“What are you looking for?”
“Aspirin. I have a bit of a headache.” Closing my eyes, I inwardly cringe at the lies that slide off my tongue so easily. I hate it.
“Sorry.” He kisses my head and rests his cheek on it. “I know the past few days have been really difficult for you too. I hate that you had to be the one to find him. I should have been the one to try to wake him up that morning. I should have—”
“Shh …” I lift onto my toes and press my lips to his to silence him.
We stay idle like this for a few moments until he relaxes.
“No apologies.” I kiss his neck, his jaw, and his lips. It’s loving, not sexual.
It’s truth. Beyond all the lies, I hope he will always know that my love for him is truth. I hope no lie will ever matter more than this truth.
“Bodhi?” Bella calls from the family room.
I step back, giving him a soft smile.
“Aspirin is in the other bathroom.”
“Okay.”
When he turns, I lean against the counter and exhale. Today I hurt, not just my heart, but my whole body. My back feels like it’s ready to break, so I worm my way through the people in the living room to the table next to Barrett’s chair. When no one seems to be looking, I retrieve the joint he saved for me and the lighter. I escape to the back deck. It’s much smaller than the front porch, but it’s also devoid of people. It’s a beautiful afternoon. Maybe that’s a sign. Even on a bad day, there is something good.
I light the joint and take a drag while sitting on the top step that gives me a clear view of Duke’s and Etta’s trailer.
“You owe me, Barrett.” Holding the joint a few inches from my lips, I stare at the cloudless sky. “In another life, you will owe me.”
A red-tailed hawk flies above, making a hoarse screech.
“Don’t argue with me, old man.” Giggling, I take another hit. “To you, Barrett. I hope you’re reunited with the love of your life. I can’t imagine ever being separated from mine again.”
After a final hit, I lie back on the warped boards, extend my arms into a T, and close my eyes, letting the warmth of the sun blanket me like one last hug, one last goodbye from Barrett.
“I love you too,” I whisper.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
“WE SHOULD GO through his stuff,” Bella suggests after the last family member leaves.
Bodhi lifts the bag of trash from the plastic kitchen bin and ties it. “Not tonight.”
An uncomfortable tension lingers between them, but the feeling of that tension has shifted. Before, there was an obvious pull from opposite directions. Now, there’s this empty void that they fill with confrontational comments. It’s as if they don’t remember how to get along, how to just be siblings.
“Bodhi, I want to go through his stuff before I go home.”
“No one said you have to go through his stuff at all. I’ll do it when I’m ready.”
My high has worn off. Too bad. I’d rather not be here for this conversation. From the kitchen table, I nibble on leftover veggie tray carrots as they go back and forth—Bella leaning against the counter by the kitchen sink, Bodhi by
the back door, holding the garbage bag.
“I want to go through his stuff. Did you ever think that maybe there’s something sentimental that I might want to keep?”
“Fine. Go pilfer through his stuff. I’ll deal with the leftovers later.”
“Pilfer? Jesus. I’m not stealing anything. Why do you have to be such a dick about it?”
My gaze follows the volleying of their jabs.
“Yes. I’m the one being a dick about it. There was nothing dickish about you packing up and leaving after the accident.”
Bella pushes off the counter, planting her hands on her hips. “Oh, did you accidentally get high and shitfaced? Did you accidentally need Dad to come get you? I think the days of calling it an accident are over. You fucked up because that’s what you are—you’re a fuckup. He would have beat the cancer had he not been in a wheelchair.”
Bodhi drops the bag of trash. “Oh, really. What doctor told you that? None? Oh, that’s right. You weren’t here to go to the doctor with him. Leaving was your stupid explanation for punishing me. Well guess what? I didn’t want you here anyway. The only person you punished by leaving was Dad. He busted his ass for years making your dreams come true. Have you looked at the sign at the end of the property? It doesn’t say Bodhi’s Stables.”
Her jaw clenches. “You killed him, and you damn well know it. That’s on you. You weren’t even here the morning he died. You left your pothead girlfriend to find him.”
“Shut the fuck up about her!”
I freeze. No longer feeling hungry, I let the carrot in my hand drop to the tray.
“It’s on your conscience, Bodhi, not mine.”
“You killed him by never fucking being here! Maybe if you would have been here more, he would have felt more loved by you and felt like he had a greater reason to fight!” Bodhi’s voice booms as he clenches his fists, taking another step closer to Bella.
She doesn’t back down. With two quick steps, she shoves his chest. “Murderer!”
“Don’t you fucking touch me!” He grabs her arms.
“Let go of me!” She wriggles. “Are you going to kill me too?”
“I. Didn’t. Kill. Him!” He shakes her.
“You did! You killed him, and mom, and your own goddamn life, and—”
“I KILLED HIM!” I bang the table with my hands as I shoot up, sending my chair backward, crashing to the floor.
Their heads whip toward me, slowly releasing their holds on each other.
My hand flies to my face, cupping my mouth, as my heart booms in my chest. Tears burn my eyes. Barrett would hate this. “It was me,” I say softly behind my cupped hand.
Bodhi’s forehead wrinkles as he shakes his head and stutters a barely audible reply, “What?”
Bella blinks rapidly, jaw slack.
I nod a half dozen times before inching my hand away from my mouth, tears streaming down my face. Maybe it’s Barrett or the residual effects of the marijuana, but in spite of my racing heart and endless tears, I find a steady, almost eerily calm voice. “He wanted to die, but not because he was in a wheelchair and not because Bella moved away. He wanted to die because cancer is torturous and unforgiving to those who have it and the people who love them.”
“You killed him?” Bella starts to step toward me, but Bodhi grabs her arm.
I shake my head. “The cancer killed him.”
She wriggles out of Bodhi’s hold and slams me against the wall with her hands pressed to my shoulders. “Did you suffocate him with a fucking pillow?” Tears fill her eyes as she screams at me.
“Get off!” Bodhi pulls her away again with such force that Bella nearly stumbles to the ground.
“You’re going to jail! Do you hear me?”
Bodhi pulls me by my arm out the back door. I nearly trip trying to keep up with him as he wordlessly drags me toward Alice. With less force than Bella used, he presses my back to the door and slams his hands on either side of my head against the window. “Jesus, Henna … what the hell did you do?” His voice is tight, like a band ready to snap.
This is the unforgivable. It has to be. We will never be Henna and Bodhi again. I will be that girl who killed his father, the girl who betrayed him, the girl who lied to him.
“Physician-assisted death,” I whisper.
Bodhi shakes his head, eyes narrowed. “I … I don’t understand. That would have required him to see more than one doctor. And the money for the medication, I would have seen that come out of his account. I … how …” He continues to shake his head as if doing so will erase everything that has happened.
I stare at him, unblinking. He’s smart. He knows the answers, even if he doesn’t want to admit it after a long day.
Bodhi averts his gaze to the side, jaw clenched, eyes red with emotion. “When I—” He swallows hard, nostrils flared. “When I asked you to come over Monday morning, did you know … was he already dead?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His head drops to his chest, face contorted with pain as he closes his eyes. “How could you?”
“It’s what he wanted.”
“He didn’t know what he wanted!” He slams his palms against the window next to my head several times, accenting each word.
My heart stops as every muscle in my body stiffens.
“He was depressed, Henna!” he yells just inches from my face, squeezing more tears out of me.
My head inches side to side. “He was dying, not depressed. There’s a difference.”
“Shut. Up.” Each word rips from his throat like he’s on the verge of wrapping his hands around my neck. “Just … shut the fuck up. Understood?”
Biting my lips together, I swallow past the boulder of pain in my throat and nod, willing the sobs to stay inside.
He closes his eyes, stepping back and letting his hands fall limp to his sides. “I can’t look at you.”
I don’t breathe. One breath will leave me a mess of destruction on the ground. Through tear-filled eyes, I take one last look at Bodhi Malone. Silent sobs reach my soul as goodbye whispers in my heart. Peeling myself off Alice’s door, my wobbling legs carry my lifeless body down the long drive.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Bodhi
BELLA SPENDS SEVERAL days threatening to have Henna arrested. For what? I don’t know. She did nothing illegal. When my sister’s not ranting, she’s crying while going through Dad’s stuff. I have more emotions than I can handle. It could take more than one lifetime to untangle them, put them into manageable little compartments, and piece together what I’m really feeling.
I’m angry.
I’m frustrated.
I’m confused.
I’m hurt.
And I’m just exhausted.
“I’m leaving,” Bella announces while dropping her suitcase just outside of the kitchen.
I pour a cup of coffee. “Do you need a ride to the airport?”
She shakes her head. “I called a taxi.”
Leaning against the kitchen counter, I take a sip of coffee.
Bella’s gaze falls from mine, her shoulders collapsed inward. I feel as defeated as she looks.
“Bodhi, I don’t know how to fix us. I don’t know how to look at you and not see our parents’ graves. I don’t know how to forgive you or her.”
I don’t know how to forgive her—Henna—either, but I also don’t know how to convince my heart that I don’t love her anymore. It acts on its own free will.
“So I’m just going to go.” Bella forces her gaze back to mine.
It hurts. I hurt for her. As angry as I am at her for holding on to the past and abandoning Dad, I still hurt for my sister, because when I messed up years ago, I changed her life forever too.
“If I can work through this, then maybe we can … I don’t know.” She shrugs.
I nod slowly. She doesn’t have to finish. I know she’s saying goodbye. Maybe a final goodbye.
“I’m sorry for everything, even for having to say I’m sorry again.
But I do love you. And I also understand that sometimes love isn’t enough. So …” I set my coffee down and walk to her, pulling her into my arms. Tears burn my eyes. “You were a victim too. And I’m just … so … sorry.”
Bella slowly pushes away, quickly wiping her eyes and finding a brave face. “I took everything I wanted. If you sell the house or the ranch … it’s yours.”
She cuts all ties.
I get it, even if it hurts.
Bella turns, grabs her suitcase, and walks out the door.
After my coffee, I head to the stables to take Snare out for a ride. Taped to his saddle is a large envelope.
“What the hell?” I pull out the cash—a lot of cash. Then I pull out a folded piece of paper.
Bodhi,
I wish I had some great wisdom to pass on to you with my final words. I don’t.
Instead, I have a few secrets, some incredibly honest gratitude, and one last request.
Secrets I promised your mom I’d take to my grave …
Your first word was Dada.
Your first steps were to me.
You ran to me every time I walked through the door after a long day.
You tiptoed into our bedroom at night and nestled into my chest.
I don’t know what I did to deserve your love.
Mom cared for you all day. Fed you. Changed your diapers. And kissed your boo-boos. She wiped your tears and made bringing you joy her full-time job.
Still … you were my boy.
Thank you for staying. I know you didn’t do it out of guilt. You did it because you are and always will be my boy.
Thank you for taking my pain and making it your own.
Thank you for being my friend.
I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that it was unfair to ask you to help me die.
You are my boy, the whisper of my name, and the hand always holding mine.