Magnolia Road

by J. Lynn Bailey

  I feel Bryce’s stare burn into the side of my face, but I’m too afraid to look at her, for fear she’ll see my anger.

  “As you can see, there are cigarette butts and three Styrofoam cups.”

  “This guy left in a rush. Why else would he have left evidence behind?” I say more rhetorically, talking to myself.

  “Just what I was about to get at.” Officer Lent is relatively new to Granite Harbor PD. He’s younger. Probably trying to prove he’s good at his job, though he is a nice guy. “I’ll take this into evidence. See if we can get something from the cups and cigarettes. Gonna be a long night. Bryce, do you have somewhere else to stay tonight?” Officer Lent scratches the back of his head.

  “She’s staying with me,” I say as if she doesn’t have a choice in the matter. As if she were a child and I made the choices for her.

  But Bryce doesn’t do what I expect, like get irritated and explain she’s a grown woman who can make choices for herself. Save herself if need be. I know she is capable of doing all these things, so maybe it’s more for my well-being; I’m not sure.

  Bryce nods. “Yeah, sounds good.”

  I realize the shitstorm this will start. Bryce staying overnight with me. The whole town, I’m sure, is already talking. And I don’t give a fuck.

  I take Bryce’s hand and lead her down the hill in the back of the house.

  “I’ll call you, Casey.”

  I hold up a hand to signify I heard him.

  “Need a change of clothes?” I ask.

  “No. Already have one packed, remember? We didn’t stay as planned in Brookline.”

  I don’t answer.

  We reach the truck, and I open the door for her this time.

  A slew of neighbors are outside, as Lent’s patrol car still sits out front.

  The Petes wave. I wave back as I hop in the truck, not wanting to engage. Explain what happened. I’ll leave that up to the Granite Harbor PD.

  We reach my house, and all is quiet. The outside lights welcome us, and my stomach grows uneasy. Who’s to say Luke didn’t come by my house, looking for Bryce?

  I park on the street and pull my gun out from under my belt.

  “What are you doing?” Bryce asks, staring down at my gun.

  “Stay in the car. I’ll give you the nod when the coast is clear.” I stop before I get out, looking back at Bryce. “Seriously, stay in the car this time.”

  Bryce’s tired eyes tell me she’ll do just about anything. “Yeah.”

  It’s hard to think that we drove six hours together, visited a friend, made love, and came home to a house turned upside down.

  Quickly, I make my way to the front door, staying in the shadows. I test the knob on the front door. Still locked. A good sign. I reach in my pocket for my keys and look back at Bryce’s silhouette. The door clicks when I unlock it. Leaving it open, I place my gun out in front of me and quickly clear my own house.

  I walk back to the truck and take Bryce inside, grabbing her bag for her.

  “Can I take a shower?” she asks when we reach the kitchen.

  “Of course. I’ll get you a towel.”

  I’m on the couch in the living room, scrolling through my phone, when Bryce comes out.

  “Feel better?” I ask.

  “Feeling like it was a Corvette that hit me now, not a semi. So, that’s good.”

  She’s got on a Bon Jovi “Livin’ on a Prayer” T-shirt that hangs just above her knees, and I can’t help but feel this in places I shouldn’t.

  She sits down next to me.

  The rain has begun again.

  She sees the glass of whiskey I’ve poured.

  “Want one?”

  “No, but if it’s all right, I’ll take a sip of yours.” She reaches out and puts the tumbler to her lips. Allows the brown elixir through her lips and swallows. Sets the glass down. There’s no reaction. No cough.

  “You’ve proven yourself to be an experienced drinker.” I pick it up from the coffee table and put her spot on the glass to my lips. Take a swig.

  “No, my body just knows what it needs, Ethan.” Her tone hangs on invisible notes in the air.

  Her words make me want to do things that most friends don’t do together.

  Sex wasn’t on the agenda today. And twice?

  I set the glass down.

  She’s staring straight ahead, her elbows resting on her thighs as her arms stretch outward.

  “Take my bed. I’ll sleep here.”

  Her eyes slowly meet mine. She thinks. “I’d rather you sleep in your bed, and I sleep alongside you. If that’s okay?”

  The whiskey has exploded in my stomach. Don’t touch her, Ethan. Sleep next to her. Don’t touch her. I think twice about this because of the nightmares. I used to get them bad right after I returned home. Throwing punches. Strangling my pillow. From all the work James and I have done the nightmares have gone away for the most part. But now, with Robby’s shit in my head, I’m not so sure they won’t return. God forbid, I wake up from a nightmare, and I’m strangling her. This thought makes me grow ill.

  “I can’t do it tonight,” I lie. Badly, I want her body next to mine. I want to be able to fall asleep with her, not worry about what my unconscious mind might do while I sleep.

  “No, yeah, I totally get it.” Bryce stands but not before reaching down and taking another sip of my whiskey. “That’s smooth,” she says as she sets it down for the last time. “Good night, Ethan.”

  She turns, and I think I can see her red lace panties through her T-shirt; it makes me hard.

  The way she moved her body against me today. The way I took her in my mouth.

  “Good night, Bryce,” I groan, knowing I’ve made the right decision.

  To deter my mind once she walks to my bedroom, I read a text from my mom. Something about dinner on Sunday, but I’m only two percent focused because I’m still thinking about Bryce in her red panties.

  I walk to the kitchen and pour another glass, feeling the effects of the alcohol. Feeling the relief. Feeling my skin loosen. Just one more glass.

  When I’m done, I feel really all right. I tiptoe into my bedroom and see the covers gathered where Bryce lies, sound asleep. I want to crawl into my bed with her. Show her, tell her how I really feel, but deep inside, I know I can’t make that commitment. My head is still so fucked up.

  She said she’d give me what I needed.

  Her. That’s what I need right now.

  It’s selfish, Ethan. You’re a fucking selfish bastard.

  She did say she wanted me in here.

  It’s the alcohol talking.

  I take off my shirt, needing, just for a minute, to feel her body next to mine again.

  But my phone rings from the other room.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  I walk back into the living room and see Maria’s number.

  My heart begins to slam against my chest.

  This is a late hour for Maria to be calling.

  Fear consumes me.

  “Hello?” I say quickly.

  There’s no sound on the other end of the line.

  “Hello? Maria?” I say again.

  A broken, familiar voice sounds. “Ethan, he’s gone. Robby’s gone.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Bryce

  It’s early, but I can figure out Ethan’s coffeepot and make him coffee this morning. I pad down the hallway to the kitchen, but there’s a silhouette in the darkness, sitting at the kitchen table.

  “E-Ethan?” I whisper. My eyes begin to slowly adjust to the morning darkness.

  It’s him. And it’s the stillness of his body that makes me break out in chills.

  “Ethan? What’s going on?” My stomach drops.

  I see the whiskey glass in front of him from last night.

  He stares it down.

  Has he slept?

  I can’t bring myself to move.

  “I tol’ him, ‘See you larer,’” he slurs.

  My
heart seizes. “Who?”

  “I tol’ him I’ll be back to see him.”

  I try to swallow as my heart picks up pace. “Is it Robby, Ethan?”

  His eyes meet mine. Hate and anger bleed across the table in my direction. “Don’t.”

  “What? Ethan, is it Robby?”

  Another piece of advice my mother gave me: “Don’t try to convince a drunk person that you’re right. Even if they’re wrong, they’re right for at least the next six hours.”

  I ask again, “Ethan, did Robby pass away?”

  “Yeah.”

  He grabs the bottle and puts it to his lips, and I watch as the bubbles of air move from top to bottom.

  Tears sting my eyes. “Ethan, stop.” My voice is more than a whisper. “You’re going to kill yourself.”

  He slams the bottle down on the table with so much force that the bottle and the glass crash to the floor.

  Something inside me flinches, probably my heart, but I don’t allow Ethan to see this.

  “Ge’ the fuck outta my house.”

  “What?” I say, taken aback. A piece of me wants to run. A bigger piece of me wants to stay. Take care of him. Heal him. But I can’t do that.

  “You prolly a slut anyway. Prolly sleep with whoever you wan’.”

  What? Who even are you right now?

  My throat begins to ache with tears. I don’t know how to respond. What he’s saying can’t quite compute.

  Where’d Ethan go?

  “You shoul’ go. Prey on ’nother man with his own shit. Try save ’im. You ’n’ me, we’re different. You shop fur men at military bases, Bryce?”

  Don’t give him any satisfaction of seeing your hurt, Bryce. Take his truck keys and drive home.

  Ethan can’t even look at me. His forehead slowly drifts to the table.

  I grab my overnight bag and his truck keys. I’ll drive myself back to Magnolia Road.

  Ethan can figure out how the hell to get his truck back.

  Before I pull out of the driveway, I know it’s early, but Alex will be awake with the baby or writing. I text Alex and ask for Aaron’s number. Ethan’s going to need him when he wakes up.

  Alex: Sure. Everything okay?

  Me: Yeah.

  No. No, I’m not all right at all.

  I don’t have it in me to tell her that I’ll fill her in later.

  Alex: Everything isn’t okay. Where are you?

  Me: Home.

  Alex: I’ll meet you there as soon as Eli gets home.

  I start to tell her it isn’t necessary, but I stop myself. Because the truth is, I do need her right now. I remember how it felt to be there for my best friend when she lost Kyle and then almost Eli. I was there when she said she didn’t need a friend.

  I call Aaron.

  “Warden Casey.”

  “Hi, Aaron. It’s Bryce.”

  “Bryce?”

  “Yeah.” Tears come to my eyes.

  “Is everything okay?”

  When Aaron asks, the lump comes back. Push it down, Bryce. Push it down. “Not really. Robby died. I don’t know much else, but your brother is hammered at his house. I think you need to check on him.”

  “Robby? Who’s Robby?”

  The lump grows when I realize Ethan never told his own twin brother about his best friend from the military. Ethan shared so many moments with both. He shared one life with his brother and another life with his best friend. I realize Ethan has so many walls up. He’s so guarded that mixing the two lives that never meshed together, still so separate, meant opening up just a little, something Ethan wasn’t ready to do with his own brother.

  “Just stop by. He needs you.” I hang up the phone and let the tears create trails down my cheeks as I drive.

  As I pull up to Magnolia Road, the house seems quiet. Untouched. As if a stranger hadn’t ravaged through it last night, looking for the one thing he couldn’t find. It doesn’t exist. The only thing that exists, the evidence, is in my head. The address. One I’ll never give, no matter what happens. So, Luke can come back for me, but he isn’t going to get anything.

  I wipe my tears, sling my bag over my shoulder, head inside, and try to put my life back together.

  The house, for the most part, is put back together. It’s almost four in the afternoon. No word from Ethan or Aaron, but a car door shuts outside. I told Alex I just needed some time to think before anyone came over. Just needed to be alone to figure out how this all got so bad, so quick.

  “Bryce?” I hear Alex say as the front door quietly shuts.

  “Kitchen.” My voice cracks as I try to figure out what I’ll say to her.

  She takes one look at me from the living room, and that’s all it takes. She throws her purse down on the couch, and I place my hands on my face and begin to cry. I feel her arms around me, something I’ve felt a lot over the course of our friendship but not like this.

  “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

  We spend the next hour on the couch, talking, crying, laughing a little. I tell her everything. Ethan. Robby. My brother, Ryker, which she knows to some extent. I even include Sandra and Landon and Luke but only the necessary information—and not because I don’t trust her, but because, if anything happens, I don’t want her to take the blame for anything.

  “When’s the funeral for Robby?” she asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m going to try to reach Maria, his mom, and find out.”

  Alex sighs and places her hand on my leg. “In the meantime, let’s call for takeout.”

  I don’t really have an appetite, but I know I need to eat.

  “I’ll call it in once I look at the menu online. Why don’t you take a hot shower?”

  I nod.

  “Anything specific you want?”

  “Just a salad or soup or something.” I stand, looking down at my best friend, who’s on her phone, looking into the menu. “Alex?”

  She turns her head up.

  “Thank you.” My eyes burn. I’m tired. Emotionally drained. Exhausted.

  “It’s what you’ve done for me.”

  I bend at the waist and kiss her head.

  Once in the shower, I wash Robby’s death away. I wash Ethan’s words away. I wash the fear away that probably still lives in pockets of my muscle memory. The heat from the water makes my body relax, except my mind. It still spins; it still goes, still moves with what-ifs and how-comes.

  What if Ethan hadn’t enlisted in the military?

  What if he hadn’t gone to war?

  What if Robby had enlisted but stayed stateside? Would he still be here?

  How come Robby died?

  How come God didn’t save him?

  How come Ethan can’t find himself?

  How come this hurts so much?

  Maria and I had exchanged numbers before Ethan and I left Brookline. I call her phone when I get out of the shower, but I get one of Maria’s brothers instead. He fills me in on the details of the funeral, which will be on Friday. Again, I pass along my condolences. They say funerals aren’t for those who’ve passed on; they are for those who are still here. What anguish Maria must feel. We all thought he was going to be all right. That he was going to pull through. I don’t ask the brother what transpired in the last thirty-six hours, but something went awry.

  “Dinner’s here,” Alex says through the door.

  Then, I hear muffled voices.

  I pull on a big T-shirt and pajama pants, brush my hair, and open the door to find Alex and Eli staring at me. Eli is still in his warden uniform, which tells me he’s not yet off the clock, or he’s just going home.

  “What?” I say, as if my heart can take much more. As if I’m asking for another round of hurt. “Hey, Eli.”

  “Hiya, Bryce. So, I can take Ethan’s truck back to him, so you don’t have to deal with it,” he says as if he’s tiptoeing around my heart.

  “Keys are on the kitchen counter.”

  Eli takes a to-go box, kisses Alex, grabs the keys
, and leaves.

  “Who’s watching the girls?” I ask.

  “My mom and Brand. When Eli told me he was running late, I called my mom.” Alex opens her to-go box with French fries and beer-battered cod.

  I sigh. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Stop it. When Kyle died, who made all those trips to Belle’s Hollow to assure me my grief wasn’t going to kill me? You. When Philip died, who helped Mom and me plan the funeral? You. Bryce, you’ve always been there. So, stop with the you didn’t have to do that stuff.”

  Smiling, I realize Alex is here for however long it takes me to feel better. “I should have gotten what you got. That looks delicious.”

  Alex shakes her head. “Best place to get fish and chips on the East Coast as far as I’m concerned.” She dips a fry in her ranch and drops it in her mouth.

  I grab napkins.

  “Thanks,” Alex says, taking one from my hand.

  Alex’s eyes search her food. I know she isn’t searching for the ketchup or something to drink because it’s all right in front of her.

  “What?” I ask.

  “It’s just … you know Ethan is a good guy, right? Don’t get me wrong; what he said to you was totally messed up and wrong, way off base. But underneath all the baggage is a really great guy.”

  “I just wish he’d let that guy come to the surface,” I say. “I can’t be the only one to believe it, Alex. He has to, too.”

  “I know.” She dangles a fry above her box, still thinking.

  “I’m driving back over to Brookline on Friday for Robby’s service.”

  Alex nods. “I can go with you.”

  “Nope. You have two beautiful girls to take care of, Alex. And a beautiful husband.” I crack a smile, my best attempt at lightening the mood.

  “After the service, will you be going back to Los Angeles?” Alex gives me puppy-dog eyes.

  I sigh, leaning back against the counter, crossing my arms. “My dad doesn’t know anything about Sandra, Landon, or Luke. I’ll stay here until they get everything sorted out. Besides, in the end, Luke will get what’s coming to him.”

  Alex stops chewing. “Bryce, what if he comes after you again? I’m going to teach you how to handle a gun.”

  “I can’t keep running, Alex. I knew, eventually, this would catch up to me. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.”