Echoes of Us

by S. H. Timmins

  Once Dean finds a few friends to chat with, I excuse myself and make my way to the table where the drinks are stationed, grabbing a few bottles of water. I have no idea what soda Dean likes, so water it is. I’m just about to wander over to the snack table and look at what food I might want to grab when I see Steph and Carla heading right for me. I smile warmly at them and wait for them to close the distance.

  Steph looks at the water in my hands and rolls her eyes. “How very parental of them to supply water. Please tell me there’s something better than that?”

  I nod over to the table where all the drinks are. “Lots of choices, but nothing with alcohol. You know how his parents are.”

  “The same as all parents; lame.” I watch her sulk as she walks over to the table, and Carla and I giggle at her antics.

  I ask my other friend, “How did rehearsal go?”

  She beams and tells me, “My dance teacher thinks this will be my best performance yet. She said there will be a few instructors from the performing arts colleges in the audience this time. I’m so nervous!”

  “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. You're amazing and they will beg for you after they see how incredibly you dance,” I tell her honestly. She really is that good.

  She grabs my arm and gives me an anxious look. “You’ll be there in the audience, right? You and Steph?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. We’ll be the ones cheering the loudest.” I lean forward and give her a hug, with the water bottles still in my hands. We laugh at that and turn around to scan the growing crowd.

  Steph’s already distracted and chatting with one of the football players. I guess some of them have already arrived. Carla says she’ll get a drink too, and I tell her I’ll just wait here.

  A cheer goes through the crowd and I watch Riley’s parents rush over to their son with obvious pride as he comes into the backyard. Of all Byron’s friends, I’ve always liked Riley the best. I’m smiling at the way he genuinely interacts with his parents when I spot Cruz making his way into the yard… with Tisha draped on his arm, still in her ridiculous outfit. She couldn’t even change out of her slut uniform. I feel a sneer on my lips.

  A few parents and some students go over to speak with Cruz, and I try not to be too obvious as I watch him. He’s so natural with his ease around people. He smiles and shakes hands, so different from the boy I knew. I’m conflicted in the way it makes me feel. I honestly like this new Cruz, but I’m nostalgic for my old friend. How do I separate the two? I need to let go of who he was and embrace who he is. If I don’t, it’s not fair to hold him to a standard that doesn’t exist anymore, except in my memory.

  I’m startled out of my maudlin thoughts when I feel an arm go around my shoulders. I look up and Dean smiles down at me. “I thought I lost you. You went to get a drink and never came back.”

  And I feel like a bitch again. I hold up a bottle to him. “I didn’t know what you like to drink, so... water?”

  He laughs and accepts the bottle easily. “I don’t normally drink soda because of the sugar, so you did well.”

  I know he is serious about his diet, but I didn’t know about the sugar. I raise an eyebrow at him and tease, “Let me guess, you’re sweet enough?”

  He winks at me and says, “Something like that.” He unscrews the cap and takes a long drink from the bottle. When he’s done, he pulls me tighter to his side and asks me, “When are you going to let me take you on a real date?”

  I hesitate, afraid of what Victor will do if he finds out, but I have to say something. I ask, “What did you have in mind?”

  He leans back a bit and smiles warmly down at me. “Is that a yes?”

  Is it? I guess it is. “Yes.” God, help me.

  He kisses the top of my head. “You’ve just made my night.”

  I giggle and ask, “I thought our first kiss did that?”

  He grins down at me. “You’re right, it did. Okay, let me correct myself. That just completed this perfect night.” Then he seals his declaration with a chaste kiss.

  When we break apart, I’m just about to ask him if he wants to check out the food table, when Cruz is suddenly in front of me. His mouth is smiling, but there’s a tightness in his eyes. He looks over at Dean and I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. He obviously saw the kiss. I picture how I would react if I saw him kissing Tisha, and I’m not proud of the violent thoughts that image inspires.

  Dean reaches his hand out for a shake. “Great game, man. Way to make a first impression. We’re lucky to have you.”

  Now, this should tell me how awesome Dean is. Here he is being gracious and nice, and I’m the asshole wishing he would walk away so I can have Cruz all to myself for a few minutes. How horrible is that? Cruz continues smiling and talking to Dean, and I want this moment to end so I don’t feel like such a bitch. I look down at my bottle and peel the paper label off while I berate myself for being such a bad person.

  “Jo? What did you think?” Cruz’s voice breaks through my internal chastisement, and my eyes lift to meet him. There’s a softness in his eyes now as he gazes down at me and waits patiently for my response.

  I bite my lip, then grin and tell him truthfully, “You were amazing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you when you were on the field. You dominated when you were out there.” I feel Dean stiffen slightly beside me and realize how my words must have sounded to him.

  Cruz smiles broadly and blushes. He tells me to find him before I leave because he needs to talk about something, then excuses himself to speak with someone else.

  There’s an almost uncomfortable moment when neither Dean nor I move, then he pulls his arm off my shoulder and says conversationally, “So, how do you know Cruz Cameron?”

  I knew this would happen, eventually. I brace myself, then turn and look up at him. “We knew each other as kids. I hadn’t seen him in years, and then he ended up here for football. We’ve just caught up again.”

  He seems to deflate like he was holding his breath, and his smile is softer. “That makes sense. I hadn’t realized you two knew each other.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “He was at the school all last week and I never even knew it was him. I didn’t see him until the party last Saturday.”

  His smile turns devilish. “The same party we met.”

  I smile back, but it feels brittle. “The very same.” I wish I could remember that night as fondly as him, but it’s one I’d rather forget, which is just plain mean when he has no idea that’s what I think.

  “So, you guys are back to being friends again, just like old times?” I don’t miss the jealous undertones in his voice, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. Victor’s perverted jealousy is enough for me to deal with.

  I turn away from him and mumble, “Yeah, just like old times.”

  He gently takes my shoulder and brings me back around to face him, but I stubbornly keep my face down. He puts two fingers under my chin and tips my face up. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He blows out a breath and leans down so our faces are level. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. You’re here with me, and I’m being an ass. You said he was your friend, and I had no right to make you feel defensive about it. Forgive me?”

  I’m the one who should apologize, but like a coward, I let him think he’s the one who has anything to be sorry for. I attempt a smile and nod my head. He leans in and places a soft kiss against my stiff lips. I can see hurt in his eyes when he pulls away, but he smiles easily and takes my hand, leading us back to our group of friends.

  And if I’m drowning in guilt and confusion, I’m the only one who knows.

  Painful Confessions and New Beginnings

  “Jo, can I talk to you?” Cruz jogs over to where Dean and I are heading out of the yard. “I was hoping you’d let me drive you home. I have a request from my dad.”

  I look to see how Dean will react this time, but there aren’t any signs of jealousy, and I feel a sense of relief at that. He leans down and kis
ses the top of my head. “It’s okay. Text me when you get home? We can make plans for that date.” He smiles, waiting for me to answer. I smile awkwardly back and nod my head, then reaches out and shakes Cruz’s hand. “Take care of her for me.”

  I don’t know how I feel about what he says, and Cruz looks stiff when he shakes his hand and confirms that he will do just that. Dean gives my hand a final squeeze, then saunters off toward his car. Cruz nods in the direction he wants me to follow him and we walk in silence.

  He finally looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. “So, you and that Dean guy, huh?”

  I shrug my shoulder, not sure how to respond. “We’ve only seen each other this last week. Feeling things out, I guess.” I leave it at that, but I can’t help retorting with, “You and Tisha, huh?”

  Cruz shakes his head and tells me, “She’s been fun, but I’m not looking for a distraction right now. The football season has just started, and I want to keep my grades up. That’s enough to keep me busy but add in the hours I work at my dad’s shop, and I don’t really have any time for anyone. I only have time for my friend.” He winks at me.

  That news should make me happy that he’s not looking to date her, but there are other things he could have been doing with her. That’s what bothers me. I focus on something other than Tisha Lawrence and how much I can’t stand her, asking, “You work at your dad’s shop?”

  He smiles more easily as we walk. “I’ve been working there as a grease monkey since I was fifteen. It’s actually a lot of fun. The guys are great, and I enjoy helping take things apart and watching them put everything back together. How about you? Any part-time jobs over the years?”

  I grimace and shake my head. “Victor hates the idea and insists he can buy whatever I want, so I don’t need one in his eyes.”

  We arrive at his red pickup truck and he opens the door for me and helps me in. Before he closes it, he says with heat, “Your stepfather sounds like a dick. I don’t know how your mom could marry him.” With that, he shuts the door and walks around to his own side.

  He really has no idea just how much worse than a “dick” Victor truly is.

  When he hops into the driver’s side and prepares to start the engine, I admit to him. “She didn’t have a choice.”

  He stops before putting his key in and turns to look at me with narrowed eyes. “Everyone has a choice. She chose wrong.” I’m shocked by the venom in his tone. He sees me flinch and shakes his head while shoving the key in the and starting the big engine. “Sorry, I guess I still blame her for taking you away from me. Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Dad has been pestering me with questions about you both, and with everything we’ve talked about, your mom never seems to come up. So, the request is this: I need you to tell me something I can share with him about your mom, so he’ll back off.”

  I bite my lip so hard that I’m sure it’ll be bleeding soon, but I don’t want the tremble there to grow and become a sob. I feel the sting of tears in my eyes and blink repeatedly to stop them from watering further. I look out the window as he maneuvers us from the spot he was parked in, and say in an almost normal voice, “It is okay if we go somewhere before you take me home?”

  I hear him roll down the window and then there is a cooling breeze lifting my hair and helping to dry my eyes. “Sure. Where did you have in mind?”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and say, “It’s not far. I’ll tell you how to get there.”

  He puts music on while we drive, seeming to understand I don’t want to talk yet. We arrive in a short amount of time. He parks alongside the entrance and cuts the engine. I can feel him staring at me as he asks, “Okay, now you’ve got me really confused. Why are we at a cemetery, Jo?”

  I finally turn and look at him, tears running down my cheeks, and whisper, “You wanted to know about my mom, so I brought you to see her.”

  I watch his face lose all its color and his own eyes moisten with sudden tears. “Jo? What are you saying?”

  I take a deep breath and tell him, “She died, Cruz. Almost a year ago now. She had cancer.”

  Like ripping a band-aid off a wound that hasn’t healed, I feel all the pain just like it was yesterday again. The year of watching my beautiful and vibrant mother shrivel into a shell of the woman I knew. The way Victor became more distant with her - all but refusing to visit in the end. The painful truths she revealed and the promises she swore me to uphold; one I don’t know if I can keep. The funeral and the handful of Victor’s friends and associates were in attendance, and only Steph and Carla kept me from throwing myself into the grave with her. The somber boy beside his father watched another woman from his life being put into the ground, even if he couldn’t allow her to love him as she wanted. The many lonely nights in the cold spent clinging to her small and simple gravestone, begging her to help me learn to live without her, and later, the broken pleas for her to save me from the fate she left me to suffer alone.

  We unsnap our seatbelts at the same time, and he grabs me to him, holding me in his strong embrace. He cries quietly with me, stroking my back and offering words of comfort, telling me how sorry he is. I know he is. He loved her too as a child, and even if he blames her for our separation, this is killing him.

  I slow my tears enough to tell him about her illness and how brave and strong she was. I told him how much she loved me and regretted her choices that led us away from him and his dad. I tell him how, even with her last breaths, she was thinking of his dad. This causes him to sob against me, and I almost feel bad for mentioning it, but he deserves to know.

  I pull back to my side, making sure I have his attention for this next reveal. He wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt and sniffles back some of his grief, waiting for me to continue. It’s almost harder for me to look at him when I say this, but I made a promise. “Cruz, mom never stopped loving your dad. She told me that. Victor had something over her, and he used that to blackmail her into leaving. She always did what she could to make sure I had all the advantages she never did. She was also afraid about what would happen after she died and allowed Victor to be my guardian for his promise to pay for my college tuition and expenses, even though his guardianship ends when I turn eighteen. She made me promise not to fight it and give her peace to die knowing she helped secure my future. She made him sign a contract because their prenup would be voided when she died. She never asked for anything from him, except that. She sacrificed her own happiness for me so how can I blame her for those choices, when she only ever put me first? Would your dad know what Victor was holding over her?”

  He shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock, and says, “I don’t know, Jo. My dad has said nothing about blackmail to me. God, this is so fucked-up, you know, that right? Blackmail? All this time, it was blackmail that took you both from us. This will kill my dad. I don’t even know how to tell him. It doesn’t make any sense. Why couldn’t she tell you what this blackmail was? And this Victor guy, why would she leave you with him if he’s the type of person to use blackmail on someone?”

  “I’ve thought the same thing myself. It also seems strange that she would have anything that could be used against her. She was just a woman who was living with her sick mother and raising a daughter alone. She hadn’t even been married to my dad when he died. I know she left home for a while before I was born, and Grampy didn’t approve of her choices back then, but that all got swept under the rug when she came back with me. Nothing about that screams of a woman with secrets.” I look out the window at the cemetery, knowing the exact spot where she rests.

  I hear Cruz take a shuddering breath beside me. “After you left, I blamed my dad for letting you go. I thought about what you said, about how my dad kept his distance from her at the funeral. He told me I was too young to understand, and that it was what your mom wanted. I told him he should have fought harder to keep you both with us, and again, he said it was your mom’s choice.”

  I nod my head against the window and watch my
breath fog against the glass. “I know. She told me the same thing. I felt she was protecting him too, though I can’t imagine from what. Maybe the blackmail? Nothing else makes sense. I stopped blaming her a long time ago. I was horrible to her when we first got here - I was hurting and all I wanted was to go home, back to you.”

  I hear him shifting beside me. “I tried to run away after you left,” he confesses in a sad voice. I turn around and face him, needing to see his face while he tells me this story. He nods his head and continues. “I thought I could find you and convince your mom to let me bring you back. I even left my dad a note.” He laughs slightly. “Dad found me about ten blocks from the house. I expected him to be mad, but he gathered me against his chest and let me cry, and he cried too. That’s when I stopped blaming him because I knew mine wasn’t the only heart that was breaking, and that’s when I blamed your mom.”