Friend Zone (Friend Zone Series Book 1)

by Nicole Blanchard

  He took a step closer and my mom got to her feet, her chair scraping against the dingy linoleum. “Willy, don’t,” she warned.

  We both ignored her. “You think you know everything. That you can do everything without your family’s help. You know nothing, son. You left for school and suddenly you had no responsibilities here. Your sisters, your mother, your grandmother. They didn’t factor in to your big plans. Now everything I’ve worked for the past forty years is gone.”

  I flinched. “You want to blame me for it all going to shit, but I’m not the problem, Dad. The farm was struggling long before I decided I didn’t want to go down with it. You just don’t want to admit it and now you’re punishing me for your failures.”

  “You think you can just wash your hands of your responsibilities and think it’s done. I thought better of you, but I guess I was wrong. I never thought I’d see the day when I was ashamed of my son.”

  That hurt more than I wanted to admit. “I don’t need your approval. I guess I should have known better than to ask you to help me in any way. Consider me dead to you, Dad, since you’re so ashamed. You won’t ever have to worry about my choices again.”

  “Willy! Liam! Stop this nonsense,” Mom ordered.

  I took a step back toward the hall. It had been me who’d instigated the confrontation, hoping it would make the hole in my chest go away, but if anything, it had made it bigger.

  When I looked back to Dad, prepared for another verbal assault, he was no longer glaring at me. Instead, his head was on a swivel and he’d lost all color in his face.

  “Mom?” His voice broke. “Mom?” He said a little louder.

  The humming and pacing had stopped.

  And the back door was open.

  Gram was gone.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Charlie

  Things that had once given me pleasure no longer did.

  Coffee, even, had failed me.

  I stared down at my mug listlessly and then poured it back in the sink. My stomach couldn’t handle anything lately, anyway. Apparently a symptom of heartache was constant nausea. Pregnancy had occurred to me, briefly, but my period was regular as always. A baby was the last thing either of us needed. The thought of a mini Liam, however, only made me cry harder in my pillow that night. Maybe it was hormones.

  “You seem sad. Problems with your young man again?” Mr. Williams asked as I contemplated my next move.

  Sighing, I chose a piece at random and moved it blindly. I almost laughed because that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling since I walked out of Liam’s house. Everyone around me seemed to have a plan and I was operating blind, unaware of the rules. In a short time, Liam had managed to redefine all the rules of the game I thought I’d played like a champ.

  “You could say that,” I said.

  He smiled knowingly. “Life’s too short. I’ve told you a thousand times.”

  Didn’t I know it. “You say that, but you’ve been sweet on Mrs. Agnes for months now and haven’t made a move.”

  “I’m laying the groundwork,” he said and captured one of my rooks.

  “Sure you are,” I replied and smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks as I moved a castle. “Check.”

  “Think about this question, and then I’ll leave it alone. In ten years, when you look back on this moment, will you regret the choices you’re making? You’ll know the answer then. There are some things we just know that no amount of reasoning will explain.” Then, he captured my queen and said, “Checkmate.”

  * * *

  April was waiting for me a couple hours later when I got off work.

  At first, I considered ignoring her completely, but then I decided I was through running. If a tendency to be conflict avoidant was learned, I was going to be the one who unlearned it.

  She was dressed in a skirt with matching jacket that was as pristine and polished as fine art. Nothing like the stay-at-home-mom I remembered, now that I studied her long enough to draw comparisons.

  “April,” I said in a flat, careful voice. “What are you doing here?”

  She bit her lip and the action reminded me so much of myself it took my breath away. “I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have pushed you the way I did.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “No,” I said bluntly, “you shouldn’t have.”

  “I’m sorry, I jumped in too fast. I have no right to butt into your life.”

  Spotting coworkers down the hall, I nodded to the exit. “Can we do this outside?” I led her to the parking lot where we’d have more privacy. Heat shimmered up from the asphalt, but there was a cool breeze that calmed my frazzled nerves. “No, you don’t have a right to butt into my life. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated your help, but you have no idea who I am or who Liam is for that matter.”

  April nodded. “I agree. I only saw so much of myself in you and I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes I did when I was your age. I gave up so much for your father and I lost so much of me in the process.”

  The teeth of my keys bit into my palm. “I’m sure you had your reasons, but if we’re going to have any sort of relationship, you need to respect my choices.”

  “Of course,” she said immediately. “It won’t happen again.”

  The coil of nerves in my stomach loosened. “Good. Thank you.”

  “Would you—I mean, I’m picking up my daughter in a few minutes from school. Would you like to meet her?”

  At a loss for words, I could only gape.

  “Only if you want to,” she hurried to add. “No pressure, I promise.”

  This was the moment. I could either walk away and continue to let these past wounds fester—on both our parts—or I could stop running.

  Thinking about Mr. Williams and Liam, there was no choice. No thinking. No panic.

  For the first time in my life, I felt free, a weight lifted off my shoulders.

  “I’d love to.”

  The smile she gave me brought out a mirror grin from me.

  * * *

  I was still laughing as I waved goodbye to April and my half-sister Madison. I had a sister! Grandparents! A mom. I’d lost so much that I didn’t quite know what to do with myself as I drove home feeling like I was full up to the brim with happiness.

  Except, there was no one for me to share it with.

  Well, there was, but I wasn’t sure if he’d ever want to speak to me again.

  All I wanted to do was take the route that would lead me back to his—our—house and tell him all the things I’d learned today.

  Ember and Layla had been begging me to talk to him and work things out, but I hadn’t mustered up the nerve. I wasn’t sure if I forgave him until I’d been able to forgive my mother. I felt lighter than I had in years. I didn’t think I could have gotten this far if it weren’t for him.

  Acting on instinct, I flipped on my blinker and ignored the resulting angry drivers honking at me as I switched lanes. Screw it. I was going to go see him. My heart raced as I navigated my way through the afternoon traffic to Lake Ella and then to Liam’s duplex.

  I pulled up the drive and slumped in my seat when I noted the absence of his truck. He wasn’t home. He was probably working. Feeling a little deflated, I parked and tried to figure out my next move.

  My phone rang and figuring it was probably Ember checking in again, I answered it without looking at the caller I.D. “Yes, I’m fine, Em. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “Charlie? It’s Mrs. Walsh.”

  “Mrs. Walsh. Is Liam okay?” I’d gotten a call like this before. My heart was in my throat along with my breakfast.

  “Liam’s fine. It’s Grandma Dorothy.” I stopped breathing, wanted to tell her to stop talking, but she continued. “Oh, honey, I hate to have to tell you this over the phone, but she passed away.”

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Liam

  I’d never forget the smell of the hospital.

  I thought Charlie
was crazy when she talked about how it smelled like death and antiseptic. But I got it now. The scent was burned into my nose and now every time I thought of Gram, all I’d remember was the smell of the room where they took me to I.D. her body. My mother had been hysterical, and dad hadn’t argued when I told him to stay with her and my sisters at home. A testament to his shock, because there hasn’t been a day in the past couple years when Dad didn’t argue with me.

  “Mr. Walsh?”

  “Yeah?” I lifted my head and found a nurse or assistant or doctor. My eyes were too bloodshot and blurry to even bother trying to read their nametag.

  “Is there anyone I can call for you?”

  I gave half a thought to calling Charlie, but decided against it. I wouldn’t know what to say to her and God, the thought of telling her about Gram had my throat closing in on itself.

  “No, thanks.” I knew I needed to get back home, so I got to my feet and shoved my hands into my jeans. The nurse nodded and sent me a sad smile before padding back to the nurse’s station.

  My legs worked well enough to carry me back to my truck, which was parked haphazardly outside the guest entrance to the hospital. I guess a part of me had thought if I got here quick enough maybe I could have saved her. Which didn’t make any sense now, but it had then. I’d driven like a maniac with my hazards on, but I was too late.

  Looking back so many decisions I’d made were stupid. Unimportant. Reckless.

  I drove to my parents on auto-pilot. I’d been up nearly forty-eight hours, but I knew there’d be no sleep for me tonight. There was so much we still needed to do.

  My exhaustion and mental and emotional numbness had me staring dumbly at the car next to my parents’ vehicles in the driveway. I knew I recognized it, but it took a few minutes for realization to dawn. It was Charlie’s car.

  Despite how much I wanted her there with me, I took my time getting out of the truck and heading to the front door. I almost didn’t want to face what was on the other side. I didn’t think I could handle losing both her and Gram at the same time. There’s strength and then there’s a breaking point and if losing Gram had taught me anything it was my limits. To be humble. That I didn’t control everything. Or know everything for that matter.

  The soaps Gram used to play non-stop in the front room weren’t on, which made the house all too quiet as I made my way back to the kitchen. It hurt to be here. My chest ached with it and my throat was as dry as our fields after a drought.

  Sunlight spilled in from the window above the kitchen sink and when I entered the kitchen, it seemed to surround Charlie like a halo. I noticed my parents out of the corner of my eye, but all I could see was Charlie.

  She’d been crying and that undid all my self-control. I crossed the room to her, determined to beg her forgiveness, when she opened her arms and took me into them. I breathed her in, the sweet green apple scent of her washing away the memories of the hospital.

  “Liam,” she said, her voice full of emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

  I couldn’t even speak, I just nodded even though I’d pressed my face to the curve of her neck. I had to bend my knees since she was so short, but I didn’t care. I’d been damn sure I’d never see her again, so a little discomfort was worth having her in my arms. Footsteps scraped against the floor as my parents left, but I didn’t let her go to check.

  “Let’s go to your room,” she said as she rubbed my back. I nearly groaned at how good it felt to have her hands on me again. When I wouldn’t let her go, she laughed a little. “Okay, big guy,” and then maneuvered us out of the kitchen and down the hall with me still clinging to her like a stubborn child.

  Charlie frog-marched us down the hall to the spare room that used to be mine when I was younger. My parents had since converted it to a guest room. Clothes and a tangle of cords spewed from the open mouth of the backpack I’d tossed haphazardly on the bed. I was acting like a little bitch, but I could only watch as she carefully cleared off the clutter and turned down the sheets.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice sounded like I deep throated a chainsaw. Christ.

  She nibbled on her lip. “I’m sorry, I should have asked you if it was okay before I came, your mom was just so upset I drove straight over here.”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Charlie. She was yours, too.” There was so goddamn much I wanted to say, but I could barely keep my eyes open. My brain had registered Charlie and the bed and all I wanted to do was curl up on it with her, but I didn’t dare ask.

  “Well, that’s a conversation we’ll have to have when you aren’t falling asleep on your feet,” she said. I thought she might have been smiling, but my vision had blurred until she was nothing but a teal-green blur in her work scrubs. “Let’s get you into bed.”

  I would have cracked a joke if my brain had the ability to form a coherent sentence. All I could manage was falling face-first into the pillows. “Stay with me,” I tried to say, but into the pillows, it came out more, “Starlf bith be.”

  “What?” she asked.

  There was enough energy left in me to lift my head. “Stay with me,” I repeated. “Please.” I’d beg if she wanted me to.

  Charlie hesitated in the doorway. “Are you sure?”

  I’d never been more certain about anything. “Please.”

  There was a long pause while she licked her lips and studied me on the bed. For a few thudding heartbeats, I thought she was going to turn me down. Then, she toed off her shoes and stripped off her socks, then walked across the room to climb over me and settle down under the covers. I switched off the light and thanks to the blackout curtains, the room was plunged into immediate darkness.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  “Me, too,” I replied, then decided screw it. I wasn’t wasting anymore time. “Can I hold you?”

  She sniffled. “Please.”

  I rolled to my side and wrapped my arms around her. She buried her face into my chest and her body began to shake. Time seemed to slow to a stop as losing Gram hit me all at once. I hadn’t allowed myself a second to feel it. From the moment we realized she was gone, to getting the call from the police to inform us of her death, to identifying her body, I’d been stoic. Mom had broken down from the stress of me and Dad fighting. Dad had been overrun by guilt. My sisters, when they’d learned about her going missing, had been inconsolable. I’d been the only one to hold them all together.

  “This wasn’t your fault,” she said against my shirt. “It wasn’t.”

  “She left because me and dad were fighting. We’d flustered her. She left and then forgot how to get home. She was wandering around the streets, lost and alone for hours. She died alone. If someone hadn’t seen her, we may have never found her. If I hadn’t pushed him so hard, she’d still be alive.”

  She was silent for a while, then she said, “By that reasoning, if I hadn’t taken up so much of Dad’s time when I was younger, he would have gone to the doctor sooner, caught the cancer sooner. Maybe he’d still be alive.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not the same thing, Charlie.”

  “It is,” she insisted. “Gram was sick. Very sick. I’ve talked to your mother about it. She didn’t have much longer, even with constant care. It was more a matter of making her as comfortable as possible. It was an accident, Liam.”

  When I didn’t respond, she pulled back and as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I met hers as she studied me. “Do you think she’d blame you? Do you think she’d want her only grandson to shoulder that amount of guilt?”

  My immediate answer wasn’t one I was willing to consider. “Get some sleep, Charlie,” I said instead.

  Her free arm came around me as her body settled against mine. For the first time in nearly three weeks, I was able to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  “Why don’t you git and let that young lady have a moment’s peace?” My great-aunt Ida told me as she shoved me away from the refreshment buffet set up in our kitc
hen after Grandma Dorothy’s funeral.

  Charlie hadn’t left my side over the past three days. Through funeral arrangements, receiving out of town guests, and the service itself. When I turned, she was there. After the first night of sharing a bed together, I’d moved to the couch and let her have the bed. She didn’t bring up resuming our relationship, and I didn’t ask. I was simply grateful she hadn’t left.

  “He’s alright,” Charlie told her. “Besides, he gets lonely when I leave him alone.”

  Aunt Ida eyed me over the tuna casserole. “Well, alright, but you let me know if he starts bothering you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I will.

  “How is it my family likes you better than me?” I asked as I made up my own plate. I wasn’t exactly hungry, but my mom was watching me like a hawk and I knew if I didn’t eat she’d beeline over to me in a heartbeat.

  “I’m much prettier,” Charlie answered and popped a grape into her mouth from the fruit platter.

  “And so humble,” I teased with a grin that felt like it needed to be oiled.

  Charlie’s eyes softened, and I realized it was the first time I’d smiled since Grandma Dorothy died. My smile instantly fell, and I took a step toward her, plate of food forgotten on the table. “Charlie, I—”

  “Liam, can I talk to you for a minute?” my father interrupted. He stopped short when he realized how close Charlie and I were standing. “It can wait until you’re done here.”

  “No,” Charlie said as she pushed me in his direction. “We can talk about this later.”

  When I opened my mouth to protest, Charlie glared at me. “Fine,” I said and followed Dad through the throngs of relatives to the deserted front porch. Good. At least there’d be no witnesses when we had another epic blowout and it devolved to one of us throwing punches. It wouldn’t be the first time in the south when fists were raised at a funeral.