My Blue

by Jacobs, Emery

  My brother stands up straight and looks me in the eye. “I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this shit, but you need to be careful. I still remember how hard it was when she left, how many times you dialed her number only to hear it had been disconnected, but you didn’t give up. You kept calling, because you thought one day she’d answer.”

  “Do you really think I’ve forgotten the hell I went through back then? I was the one who went to jail. I was the one who faced her dad.” I push that thought out of my mind, because I don’t want to ruin my day with the memory of that motherfucker.

  “I get it, but you’re my little brother and I’m just looking out for you.” He shoves his hands in his front pockets.

  A few moments pass, and then he walks away without another word. Typical Beau. Fuck, I don’t want to be here today, but maybe if I’m busy it’ll keep my mind off Blue and my missing car.

  I lift the hood of the vehicle and stare at the engine. What the hell am I doing? So much for keeping busy; I can’t even focus. My phone vibrates in my back pocket for a second time this morning. This time, I pull it out and unlock the screen.

  Ella: Thanks for staying last night.

  Me: Did you just wake up?

  I stare at the screen and wait for a response. After a few seconds, I scroll through my messages to see that Luke’s was the first one I received this morning. Yeah, he’ll have to wait. Fucker. What was he thinking? Spilling all my shit to Beau is not cool. Work—I’ve got to work. I close the screen and toss my phone onto the ledge of the oversized toolbox located behind me. My life has gone from calm and no worries to not being able to shut my mind off. I have to figure out a way to get Ella Blue out of my head.

  “Hey, you got a minute?” Beau yells in my direction from the door leading into the lobby.

  “Fucking great. How does he expect me to get any work done if he won’t leave me alone?” I mumble to myself.

  I blow out a breath, shove my hands into my front pockets, and trudge toward the lobby.

  The cool air hits my face as I step into the waiting room. “What do you want now?” My gaze falls on my brother. “You know I was actually trying to work out there.” I jerk my thumb toward the shop.

  “Andy’s here about your car.” Beau nods toward the counter, where Andy is chatting it up with Tracy, the office help.

  My stomach twists into knots as I watch and wait for him to give me the fate of my Vette. Please, please let my car be in one piece. I worked so fucking hard to get her to where she is now, and if somebody trashed her… Fuck. I’m not even gonna let my mind go there.

  Beau makes his way to the front desk and leans against the counter.

  “Leo, I’ve got some good news.” Andy’s voice is loud and cheerful.

  Good news—fuck yeah! Andy moves toward me with a smile on his face.

  “So, you found my Vette?” Excitement races through my veins at the thought of being behind the wheel of my car.

  “Not me personally, but your car was found early this morning.”

  A thousand questions rush through my mind, the most important being the one I ask. “Where is it?” I glance over at Andy after the words leave my mouth.

  “It’s at the station.”

  This is the best news I’ve had in—I shake my head—fucking forever. I need a smoke, so I pull my pack of cigarettes from my pocket and tap one out.

  I nod in acknowledgment of his answer as I make my way to the exit door. I fumble with the cigarette, bringing it to my lips before pulling the lighter from my back pocket and firing it up.

  “Outside.” Beau barks out the demand like I’m a small child or a dog. Fuck him. I’m part owner in this place, too, and if I want to smoke in the lobby on this fucking amazing day, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I take a long drag from my smoke, drop my head back, and exhale. God, I feel like one weight has been lifted; now, if I can just get everything straight with Ella Blue, my life will be golden.

  I nudge the door open and flick my ashes onto the sidewalk before looking over my shoulder at Andy, who is in deep conversation with Tracy…again.

  “Hey, man, was my car here in Idlewood?” Damn, Andy. I hate to interrupt—well, actually I don’t, but I need my fucking car and you need to walk away from the girl and take me to it.

  “It was actually found in Dallas, several streets over from the airport. Luckily, I was able to get in touch with a buddy of mine and they released your car to me.”

  “Have you seen it?” I hit my smoke a couple more times before dropping it to the concrete sidewalk just outside the door and tapping out the cherry with the heel of my boot. “Is it trashed?”

  There’s an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I push it away and try to focus on the positive. Someone found my Vette, and it will soon be home with me where it belongs.

  “I saw it earlier when it arrived at the station. I didn’t look at the inside, but from what I could tell, the exterior looked as good as it always has.”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief. “That’s fucking great news.”

  “Don’t leave your cigarette in front of the door,” Beau commands from somewhere behind me. Damn. He hates that I smoke but won’t admit it. Instead, he’s constantly bitching about where I can smoke, how much money I’d save if I stopped, and how I’m always stinking up the place with the smell. Shit, give a guy a fucking break.

  “Damn, I’ll get it on my way out!” I yell back.

  “I’ll give you a ride to the station,” Andy says as he steps up behind me.

  I’m shocked he was able to pull himself away from Tracy, but I’m glad he did because I’m ready to go get my car back.

  “Sounds good. Thanks.” I turn toward my brother. “I’m heading out to get my Vette. Be back in twenty.”

  “Don’t forget to—”

  The door slams behind me before Beau finishes barking out more orders. I lean over, grab the cigarette butt, and toss it in the ashtray that sits atop the trashcan near the building.

  “Man, your brother is a stickler about smoking, huh?” Andy asks as he walks past me toward his car.

  “More like an asshole, but he’s my brother, so I just put up with all his bullshit.” I laugh, heading toward Andy’s car with a smile on my face.

  16

  Ella Blue

  My phone vibrates in my hand, causing me to jump up from where I’ve been sitting on the couch. I’ve been subconsciously holding it for the last ten minutes or so, waiting for Leo to respond to my message. During this time, I’ve been trying to force my brain to remember something, anything that will help me retrieve the missing pieces of my life.

  My lips curl up into a smile as I drop my eyes to the screen, expecting to see a response from Leo, but it fades quickly when I realize the text is from my dad. I’m not reading his text, at least not right now, because I already have one parent who drives me insane here in the house with me. I certainly don’t feel like dealing with the other one at the moment.

  “Ella, are you okay?” Mom’s much too cheerful voice rings out.

  “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” I ask before blowing out an over exaggerated sigh. I force myself to walk into the kitchen just off the living room where my mother is doing what she does best—annoying me.

  “I called out your name several times over the past few minutes and you didn’t answer me.” She turns away from the refrigerator, where she’s been putting away the groceries she brought with her this morning.

  I sit down on one of the barstools in front of the island that separates the kitchen from the living room, and drop my phone on the countertop.

  Why do I feel trapped in my own life? I want to get out of this place, go somewhere, live outside these four walls. It may sound silly, but I feel like cabin fever has already set in. I realize I’ve only been in this house for one day, but before I was here, I was on lockdown in the hospital, and before that…who the hell knows what I was doing?

  “How’re you feeling?” Mom asks
as she leans against the counter directly in front of me. She gently brushes my hair away from my face and then places a kiss on my cheek.

  My mind flashes back to a time when I was five or maybe six. I’m lying in my bed, snuggled up tightly in my soft blanket. Mom does the exact same thing. She pushes my hair away from my face, leans over, and kisses my cheek. “I love you, Mommy.” She looks down at me and smiles. We’re both so happy.

  Where did that happiness go?

  “You used to do that every night before I went to sleep.” My eyes flit to hers.

  “What?” She pushes off the counter before fidgeting with the sleeve of her blouse.

  “Move my hair from my face and kiss me good night.”

  She smiles before lifting an eyebrow. “You remember?”

  “Yes, Mom, I remember, but it doesn’t mean anything, because that part of my memory is still intact. It’s the past eight years I seem to have forgotten.” I swear she didn’t listen to anything I told her about my amnesia. I look over at my phone. Still no messages from Leo, just the unopened one from my father.

  “Are you expecting a call?”

  I grab my phone and open the screen so I can reread the last message I sent to Leo.

  Me: No, I’ve been up for a while. Just waiting on my mom to arrive. Are you stopping by after work?

  “No, just checking my messages.” And being extremely bored sitting in this house with nothing to do but stay inside my own head.

  “I forgot to ask you when your friend will be back.” Mom grabs a bottle of water from one of the bags of groceries sitting on the counter, twisting the top off and taking a small sip.

  “Gracie?” Who else would she be talking about? Gracie is the only friend I have at this point. Leo—you have Leo.

  “Yes, Gracie. She seems like a sweet girl. I only spoke to her for a few minutes the day she called to let your father and me know about your…” She hesitates a second and then takes another sip of water. “Misfortune.”

  “Misfortune? Is that what you call me wandering through town in day-old clothes, not knowing who I was, how I got there, or where I was going?” I laugh, because crying just isn’t an option anymore.

  “Don’t be so sensitive, Ella. You know what I mean.” She twists the top back onto the bottle and places it on the counter in front of her.

  “No, Mom, I don’t.” My spine stiffens as I sit up straight and look her in the eye. “Please explain how my current situation can be classified as a misfortune, and while you’re explaining that, you can also fill me in on how it is that Gracie has been my best friend for years and you talk about her like you’ve never met her.”

  Mom looks away from me for a second or two before returning her gaze back to mine. She purses her lips while drumming her long, perfectly manicured fingernails against the counter. Her mind is spinning, working in overtime. She’s so damn easy to read. For some reason, she doesn’t want to tell me the truth about why she hasn’t met my best friend.

  I move in closer to her by leaning in more against the island. “When was the last time we saw each other?” I motion between the two of us. “You and me, mother and daughter, quality time, together—when was it?”

  The porcelain skin of her neck becomes a dark shade of red, and the flush quickly spreads to her face. Even her earlobes are affected. Just as I thought—she’s never met my best friend. I just wonder how long it’s been since I’ve seen either of my parents.

  I stand but keep my eyes pinned on her, swallowing hard before pressing my lips together. The clenching in my stomach and the tightness in my chest makes me sad, disappointed, because no matter what she says, it will more than likely be a lie.

  “It’s been a while. You’ve been so busy with your band and traveling, and…” Her voice cracks as the words fall from her mouth.

  “The last memory I have happened eight years ago. It was the night Leo was arrested and you and Dad sent me away. I can’t remember where you sent me or why you forced me to leave.” I blow out a breath before taking a few steps toward my mother. “Do you think you can fill me in on why my life fell apart at seventeen?”

  She’s nervous, uncomfortable. She’s fidgeting with everything she can get her hands on.

  “I don’t…” She grabs her bottle of water again and squeezes it so tightly I’m afraid the top may pop off.

  “You don’t what, Mother? Don’t want to tell me the truth? Don’t want to discuss it?” My eyes move from the water bottle she’s holding in her hand up to her face. Her lips are set in a straight line and her eyes are glassy.

  “I’m not really sure talking about what happened when you were seventeen is going to help your current situation.”

  “Give me a break,” I huff out before stepping around the island and inching myself closer to her. “There are obviously a few things you don’t want me to remember, like why you sent me away to Florida to finish my junior and senior years of high school.”

  Her eyes widen when she learns I already know I finished high school in Florida.

  “Don’t get too excited. I didn’t remember that little tidbit of information—Gracie told me. I told her about it my sophomore year of college.”

  My confession doesn’t budge her in the slightest. She’s still standing, staring unfazed into my eyes. This is the time when I want to stomp away like a spoiled child because she won’t tell me all the things I want to know, but I don’t. I keep pushing to see if I can get anything out of her.

  “The way I see it, you’re holding back my recovery, because my doctor wants me to remember. He encouraged me to ask questions, to drudge up the past, even if it’s difficult.” My muscles tense as I watch her nervous twitches and avoidance of eye contact. She’s not giving a fucking inch.

  “I’m sorry, Ella, but I don’t agree with the doctor. I don’t think it’s a good idea to have you relive something that may cause you to become upset.” She twists the top from the water bottle and turns it up, finishing the entire thing in one long gulp. She tosses the plastic bottle into the trash behind her before returning her focus to me. “No more questions today. When you remember, I’ll be here for you, but until then, I think you need to carry on with your life as you normally would.” She reaches for another bag of groceries that’s still sitting on the counter and begins putting things away again.

  I laugh. I mean really laugh, not because this is funny, but because of how ridiculous this entire conversation has been. She can’t really be so clueless. I know my dad has more than likely brainwashed her over the years, but I’m not sure if it happened before or after he took away her backbone.

  She nods, acknowledging my crazy and inappropriate laugh. Then she smiles and continues the task of putting away all the things that will sit and rot in those cabinets unless Gracie plans on doing a ton of cooking when she gets back. Even though I don’t remember Gracie, I’ve learned to like her over the days she hung out with me in the hospital, and right now, I really wish she were here.

  “I’m just curious, Mom. What part of ‘I have amnesia’ do you not understand?” I rest my back against the counter and cross my arms over my chest. “I can’t just carry on with my life as I normally would, because I don’t know…” I drop my head downward and stare at the tiled floor. My chest aches, and it seems like every breath I take catches in my throat. I can’t do this with her anymore. She’s not here to help me find my way back. If she were, she would’ve shown up at the hospital like a normal parent. She’s only here out of guilt and pity, and as much as I don’t want it to hurt, it does.

  I lift my head and stare into her dark eyes. She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even acknowledge what I said. She’s just here—an empty shell of a woman who obviously doesn’t care about being my mother.

  “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine here alone. Gracie will be back in a week or two, and…” I hesitate, because I’m not sure how she’ll react when I mention Leo.

  A soft knock on the front door stops me from finishing
my sentence.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Mom doesn’t give me time to answer before she walks out of the kitchen, through the living room, and to the front door.

  I grab my phone and look at the time. 11:30 a.m. flashes on the screen. I can’t imagine who would just show up at my house, unless it’s someone from my past who heard about my “misfortune” and wanted to check on me.

  “Leo Matson?” Mom’s questioning voice echoes throughout the foyer as I walk up behind her. I lean around her small frame and smile. My heart squeezes in my chest as I take in Leo leaning against the doorframe, wearing oil-stained jeans that fit him snugly in all the right places and a short-sleeved black T-shirt that hugs his new broader frame perfectly. He’s holding a greasy bag and two drinks—hopefully chocolate shakes—from the Burger Hut. I love the Burger Hut! Even more than that, I love that Leo remembered I love the Burger Hut.

  His eyes are full of apprehension, and his mouth hangs open slightly as his gaze locks on my mother.

  17

  Leo

  “Leo Matson?” Mrs. Kincaid says my name more like a question than a statement. Her voice is raspy, loud, and a little shaky—not at all like I remember. Ella’s mom was always very quiet and soft-spoken. As a matter of fact, she rarely talked at all, at least not when I was around.

  I try to force a smile but fail, because for some reason, the way she’s looking at me is making me uncomfortable. Her face is pale and her eyes are wide. Maybe she’s having a hard time dealing with Ella’s amnesia, or maybe it’s because I’m standing in front of her, waiting to see Ella. It’s no secret her husband doesn’t like me, and I’m quite sure she feels the same way.

  I didn’t plan on stopping by Ella Blue’s place today, but after picking up my car and finding it in basically the same condition it was before it was stolen, I was so excited that I wanted to celebrate with her. I remembered how much she loved a greasy burger and fries from the Burger Hut, so I picked us up lunch and headed her way. Now that I’m here staring at her mother’s face, I’m thinking this may not have been such a good idea.