The Elements Series Complete Box Set

by Brittainy Cherry

“Duh, tonight is ‘do it yourself’ spa night at my house. Dog shit works fantastic for a facial,” she said. The blank stare I delivered her made her smirk. “Dude. I’m putting the shit in a brown paper bag and burning it on my boss’s porch.”

  Another blank stare from me. “If you don’t want to tell me the truth, that’s fine.”

  She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a brown paper bag. “No. Seriously.”

  “How long is this going to take?” Faye asked as we lapped around the neighborhood with Zeus on a leash for the fourth time.

  “Hey now, you’re lucky that Zeus is even offering up his poop to you. He’s very selective about who he lets have it.”

  While we took a few more laps, Faye told me her opinion on pretty much everything. “P.S. I think it’s stupid you named that little ass dog Zeus.”

  I smirked. “My son, Charlie, named him. We read Percy Jackson and the Olympians, The Lighting Thief, and Charlie was just in love with the whole Greek god idea. After reading the book, we spent months studying the gods. He fell in love with the name Zeus, but then he fell in love with a medium-sized dog from the pound, who didn’t exactly fit the name of such a huge god. I remember he said, ‘Dad, the size doesn’t matter. He’s still Zeus.’”

  Her face frowned for a second before she went back to her playful self and rolled her eyes. “Geez, did you really just play the dead son card on me, leaving me feeling extremely bad and awkward?”

  I laughed, because I saw the playfulness in her eyes. “I think I did.”

  “Jerk,” she muttered before turning away to try to hide herself wiping away a tear. I saw her, but I didn’t say anything about it.

  Zeus paused in front of a fire hydrant and started doing his ‘time to poop’ moves. “Here we go!” I said, clapping my hands together.

  Within seconds, Faye was scooping Zeus’ fresh poop into the bag and dancing around the street corner with it. “Way to go, you Olympic god, you!” she shouted. I’d never seen someone get so excited by what I honestly considered to be the nastiest stuff ever.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she said, walking back toward my house.

  “Go? Go where?”

  “Um, to my boss’s house so I can be an adult and set this shit on fire and watch it burn.”

  “I thought you were joking about that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Tristan, I joke about penis size, not about tossing shit on my boss’s porch.”

  “But why do I need to be included with this? And aren’t we a little…old for these kinds of antics?”

  “Yes!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “Yes, it’s completely immature of me to want to throw shit at my boss’s house. And yes, it’s completely immature of me to think that it will make me feel better, but if I don’t do this I’m just going to be pissed off and sad. And I can’t be sad because that means he wins. It means that when he called me tonight to tell me he was getting back together with his ex-wife, I realized he’d always had the upper hand, even though I thought I did. It means that the asshole allowed me to fall in love with him and trust him, only to rip my heart out. I don’t fall in love! I don’t get hurt!” Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to blink because she knew that would make them fall. Tears were a form of weakness to her, and I could tell the last thing Faye ever wanted to feel was weak. “But now all I feel is this breaking inside. I can literally feel every inch of me seconds away from falling apart, and I can’t even go to my best friend about it because she lost her fucking husband and had a really shitty year. I shouldn’t have come to you because it turns out you had an even shittier year, but I didn’t know what to do! I’m fucking heartbroken.

  “I mean, why would someone do this?! Why do people fall in love if it means there is a chance of feeling this way? What the fuck is wrong with humans?! HUMANS ARE FUCKING SICK AND TWISTED! I mean, I get it—it feels good, you know? Being in love, being happy.” Her body trembled as the tears fell faster than she could take breaths. “But when that magical rug is ripped out from under you, it takes all the happy and good feelings with it. And your heart? It just breaks. It breaks and it’s unapologetic. It shatters into a million pieces, leaving you numb, blankly staring at the pieces because all your free will, all the common sense you once had in your life is gone. You gave up everything for this bullshit thing called love, and now you’re just destroyed.”

  I was quick to wrap my arms around her. She sobbed into me and I held her tighter. We stood on the street corner for a while as she cried and I rested my chin on her head. “I think Zeus went to poop in my backyard today, and I’m pretty sure I forgot to pick it up.”

  She pulled away and cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

  I nodded.

  We searched my whole backyard and added a nice collection of poop to the bag before she hopped into my car and I drove her to Matty’s house. “This is going to be so good,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Okay, you keep the car running and I’ll drop the shit, light it up, knock on his door, dash back to the car, and we’ll hit it!”

  “Perfect.” She hurried off, did exactly as she’d said she would, and when she jumped into the car, she giggled like a five-year-old. “Um, Faye?”

  “Yes?” she laughed, tossing her head back in amusement.

  “I think his wooden porch is on fire.”

  Her stare twisted to her window, where Matty’s porch was definitely on fire. “SHIT!”

  “Literally.” She went to open her door to rush to put it out, but I stopped her. “No. If he sees you, he’ll fire you.”

  She paused. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  I wondered how many times she could say that before it became a tongue twister. “Get down, just in case he sees you. I’ll be back.”

  Hurrying out of my car, I rushed to the porch. I stared down at the fire and said a small prayer before I started stomping the fire out, including the bag of poop, which unfortunately got all over my shoes.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Matty asked, opening his door and staring at me. The smell of the poop hit him quickly, causing him to cover his nose with his hand. “Is that dog shit?!”

  My mind blanked. I wasn’t sure what to say or how to explain why my shoes were currently covered in my dog’s poop. So, I panicked. “I’m the town asshole! I randomly leave shit around because I’m the town asshole! So…fuck you!”

  He stared at me.

  I stared at him.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  He threatened to call the cops.

  I kicked off my shoes, ran to my car, and drove away.

  “Holy crap!” Faye said, crying, but this time tears of amusement. “That was amazing. You literally stepped in dog poop to make sure I kept my job.”

  “I know. I’m regretting it.” She laughed and when I pulled up to my house, I put the car into park.

  “He didn’t really love me, did he? I mean, he said he did, but only at times when he wanted sex. And he told me he was over his wife, but only at three in the morning when he was texting me to come over.”

  “He sounds like an asshole, Faye.”

  She nodded. “I have a way of falling for those kinds. I just kind of wonder what it would be like to find someone who loves you the same amount that you love them. You know, that person who you see looking your way and smiling because they are just as wild for you as you are for them.”

  “Why do you sleep with these guys if you know they are jerks?”

  “Because I hope they will someday fall in love with me.”

  “I think you can fall in love with your clothes on.”

  “Dream a little dream with me.” She chuckled nervously, her eyes filled with self-doubt. “But I’m done with this love crap. Throwing in the towel.”

  “It’s worth it, though, Faye.” I stared into her eyes, which were red from crying. “The heartbreak is worth those few moments of happiness, and the pieces of the shattered heart can be put back together. I mean,
there will be cracks and scars, and sometimes this burning memory of the past, but that burn? It’s just a reminder that you survived. That burning is your rebirth.”

  “Have you been born again?”

  My eyes moved to Elizabeth’s house before they locked with Faye’s stare. “I’m working on it.”

  She thanked me, then climbed out of the car to get into hers. “Tristan?” she said, wiggling her nose.

  “Yes?”

  “Tonight I was pretty immature and broken, but you handled it like a champ, kind of like a father to my childish ways. Charlie was lucky to have you as his dad.”

  I smiled. She had no clue how much that meant to me.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “And I’m sorry for calling you an asshole.”

  “You didn’t call me an asshole.”

  She nodded. “Trust me. I did. One more thing as a thank you…” She hurried over to Elizabeth’s bedroom window and pounded on it. When Elizabeth opened the window, I couldn’t help but smile. She was always so beautiful. Always. “Hey, Liz?” Faye said, looking at her sleepy best friend.

  “Yes?”

  “Give this guy a blow job tonight as a ‘thank you’ from me.” She smiled, leaned in, and kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. “Night, babe.” With that, Faye hurried away, seeming much happier than when she’d been crying not too long before. Sometimes all a broken heart needed was a bag of shit and a little fire.

  Elizabeth climbed out her window, walked over to me, and I wrapped her in a hug. “Did you do something good for my bestie tonight?” she asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Thank you.” She pulled me in closer and rested her head on my chest. “Babe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s that smell?”

  “Trust me…” I looked down at my socks, which had at one point been white, but were now semi-brown. “You don’t want to know.”

  27

  Elizabeth

  “Well, don’t just stand there staring at me. Aren’t you happy to see me?” Mama smiled, standing on my porch with a suitcase in her hand.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, confused. I glanced toward the BMW sitting in front of my house, wondering what in the world my mother had gotten herself involved with now—or more likely, who.

  “What? Your mother can’t come visit? You haven’t been answering my calls, and I missed my daughter and granddaughter. Is that such a crime? You won’t even give me a hug hello!” She huffed.

  I leaned in to hug her. “I’m just surprised to see you. Sorry I haven’t called, I’ve been busy.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is your forehead bleeding?”

  I ran my fingers across my forehead and shrugged. “Ketchup.”

  “Why is there ketchup on your forehead?”

  “I WANT TO EAT YOUR BRAINNNNNS!” Tristan said, walking past the foyer as he chased after a zombified Emma with spaghetti noodles in his hands and ketchup dripping from his face.

  Mama’s head tilted to the left and her stare followed Tristan. “I guess you have been busy.”

  “It’s not what it looks like—” I started, but Emma cut me off.

  “Grandma!” she screamed, running to the door and jumping into Mama’s arms.

  “My little sweet pea,” Mama replied, wrapping Emma in her arms and getting covered in ketchup. “Well, aren’t you a messy thing today?”

  “Mama, Tick, and I were playing zombie and vampires!”

  “Tick?” Mama turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “You let a man named Tick into your house?”

  “Are you really judging the type of men I let into my house? Do you not remember some of the men who walked into yours?”

  She smiled wickedly. “Touché.”

  “Tristan,” I called. He came over, rubbing his fingers through his ketchup-filled hair.

  “Yeah?” He smiled my way before turning to look at Mama.

  “This is my mother, Hannah. Mama, this is my neighbor, Tristan.”

  His stare met mine, and I watched his lips turn down for a split second, almost as if he was disappointed in my word choice. Soon enough he was smiling and shaking Mama’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Hannah. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “That’s funny.” Mama nodded. “Because I haven’t heard a word about you.”

  Silence.

  Awkward silence.

  “So, should I join you all in the awkward silence, or should I wait by the car?” a man joked, walking up the steps of the porch with a suitcase of his own. He wore glasses and a mustard button-down shirt tucked into dark jeans.

  Mama must’ve been on a nerdy boyfriend kick. I wonder if he’s a wizard.

  Silence.

  Extremely awkward silence.

  The man cleared his throat and held his hand out toward Tristan, probably because he noticed Tristan wasn’t giving him an intense look of confusion like I was. “I’m Mike.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mike,” Tristan replied.

  “What happened to Richard?” I whispered toward Mama.

  “It didn’t work out,” she replied.

  Shocking.

  “So, Mike and I were hoping we could stay the night here. I mean, we could get a hotel room but…I thought it would be nice for us all to have a dinner together and hang out.”

  “Mama, tonight is my birthday party. Emma is going over to Kathy and Lincoln’s place for the night.” I frowned. “You should’ve called.”

  “You wouldn’t answer.” Her cheeks blushed over, and she fiddled with her fingers, almost as if she was embarrassed. “You wouldn’t answer, Liz.”

  And just like that, I felt like the crappiest daughter ever. “We can still do dinner, though…I can cook your favorite meal if you want. And you can watch Emma. I can call and cancel the plans with Kathy.”

  Her cheeks rose, and her smile stretched. “That would be wonderful! Tick—er—Tristan, you should join us for dinner.” Her eyes rolled over his body once with a look of disappointment. “Though maybe you should shower first.”

  “You still make the best chicken parmesan I’d ever had, Liz,” Mama complimented me as we sat around the dining room table.

  “She’s not lying, this is amazing,” Mike agreed. I gave him a tight smile and thanked them both. Mike seemed nice, which was a big improvement from the last creep I’d seen Mama with. Every now and then he would reach across the table and hold Mama’s hand, which actually made me feel bad for the guy. He looked at her with such lovey-dovey eyes; I was sure it was only a matter of time before she hurt him.

  “So, Mike, what do you do?” Tristan asked.

  “Oh, I’m a dentist. I’m in the process of taking over the family business because my dad is retiring in a year.”

  That makes sense. Mama had a way of choosing men who had bigger wallets than most.

  “Very cool,” Tristan replied. Everyone kept chatting, but I stopped listening; my eyes were glued to Mike massaging Mama’s hand. How did she never feel guilty about using men the way she did? How did it never get to her?

  “So how did you two meet?” I blurted out, making everyone’s stare turn to me. My chest felt tight, and my mind felt tired from seeing Mama using yet another man. “Sorry, just curious. Because last I heard Mama was seeing a man named Roger.”

  “Richard,” Mama corrected me. “His name was Richard. And frankly I don’t like the tone in your voice, Liz.” Her face was turning red, either from embarrassment or from anger, and I knew she would scold me in private soon enough.

  Mike squeezed Mama’s hand. “It’s okay, Hannah.” Mama took a deep breath, as if his words were all she needed to hear to calm her down. Her shoulders relaxed, and the redness on her cheeks began to fade. “Your mother and I actually met at my office. Richard was one of my patients, and she came with him while he was getting a root canal.”

  “Figures,” I muttered. She’d already been scoping around for another man while still with one.

  “It’s not what you think.” Mike smi
led.

  “Trust me, Mike. I know my mother; it is what I think.”

  Mama’s eyes watered over, and Mike kept squeezing her hand. He looked at her, and it was almost as if they had a complete conversation without any words needed. She shook her head once, and Mike looked my way. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What matters is right now, we are happy. Right now things are good.”

  “In fact, things are so good in that…we’re getting married,” Mama said.

  “What?” I hollered, all color draining from my face.

  “I said—”

  “No, I heard you the first time.” I turned to Emma and smiled brightly. “Baby, you want to go pick out some pajamas for tonight?” She complained for a while before hopping out of her seat and heading to her bedroom. “What do you mean you’re getting married?” I said to the apparently engaged couple, completely flabbergasted.

  There were two things Mama never did:

  Fell in love.

  Talked about marriage.

  “We’re in love, Liz,” Mama said.

  What?!

  “It’s kind of why we came down here,” Mike explained. “We wanted to tell you face to face.” He laughed, nervously. “And now it’s awkward.”

  “I think the word of the day is awkward.” Tristan nodded.

  I twisted toward Mama and whispered, “How much debt are you in?”

  “Elizabeth!” she hissed. “Stop it.”

  “Are you losing the house? If you needed money you could’ve asked me.” My throat tightened and I narrowed my eyes. “Are you sick, Mama? Is there something wrong?”

  “Lizzie,” Tristan said, reaching out to touch my hand, but I snatched it away.

  “I’m just saying,”—I chuckled, running my hands through my hair—“I just can’t think of any reason why you would rush into something like this if you weren’t in debt or dying.”

  “Maybe because I’m in love!” she cried, her voice shaky. She pushed herself up from the table. “And maybe, just maybe, I wanted my daughter to be happy for me, but that seems to be too much to ask for. Don’t worry, go to your party tonight and when morning comes I will be out of your hair forever!”