The Truth About Us

by Megan D. Martin

  Red was right – he was talking about my dad after all, who refused to spend the extra money on even the smallest amenities for the shop. There’s no way in hell he would have been willing to pay thousands of dollars for a box like one of these.

  “I thought this one here would be appropriate, because of your dad’s love for cars.” The funeral home attendant motioned to the casket in front of us.

  My gaze found the red casket, complete with an array of chrome tools carved into the sides. It was ridiculous looking. No one would ever see it after the funeral two days from now. Dad would have scoffed at the sight of it.

  But he wasn’t here to make that decision. I was. And there was something comforting about the idea that he would spend eternity surrounded by some of the things he loved, and not just dirt and roots.

  “This will do.”

  Red didn’t say anything. Just nodded his head.

  “All right,” the funeral home attendant smiled at me. “I’ll get everything fixed up with final pricing for the arrangements.”

  After she had done so, I was more than glad my dad had life insurance. It turned out dying wasn’t just sad, it was also expensive.

  After I got home that evening I sat down on my couch, and Ranger immediately curled up next to me. The last two days had seemed like a lifetime. My dad had died nearly two days ago. Two days. I couldn’t even really remember being at home the night before, though I had been there. I had spent that whole first day after I found him crying in disbelief, while having to face all of the guys at the shop. We had closed for the day, but they all came, in utter disbelief that it was true. When I arrived home last night I had fallen asleep immediately, my body bone-tired. Steel Mechanics, Inc. had opened back up today, but I hadn’t gone in, since I had to make all the funeral arrangements.

  Now that I was home, the exhaustion hit me again. It crept along my skin and burrowed into my bones. This time it was different though – my brain buzzed with alertness while my body sagged, ready for bed. I had never quite felt like this before.

  Ranger purred against my side and I scratched the top of his head while I flipped on the TV. Something happy and cheerful was what I needed to watch right now. My phone buzzed next to me. A glance at the screen revealed Stacie’s number. She was out of town for a gymnastics competition, and would be gone until next week, but she’d been calling and texting me since she found out about Dad. It helped, but I wished she was home.

  Before I could read her message, there was light knock at the door that caused me to jump. I frowned, I hadn’t been expecting anyone. One glance through the peephole revealed the last person I expected to see. He stood on the other side of the door holding flowers.

  Tyler.

  “Tyler? What are you doing here?” I asked as I opened the door.

  He stood on the other side, wearing a white t-shirt and dark blue shorts. His green eyes were bloodshot. He held a bouquet of white carnations in his hand. They were my favorite flower. Most people found carnations less than impressive, but I had always loved them – they lived longer than most flowers after they were cut. The saddest thing about a bouquet of anything was that they were always on the verge of dying.

  Tyler stepped inside and without saying anything and wrapped his arms around me, pressing the flowers against my back. “I had no idea Rowan. I just found out today. You should have called me. I would have been here in a heartbeat – you know that.” His words shook with emotion against my hair.

  “I don’t have your number.” Were the only words I could manage to get out. Tears threatened the back of my eyelids, but I didn’t want to cry anymore. My eyes were tired.

  After a moment he leaned back and looked down at me. “I brought these for you.” He held the carnations between us awkwardly. I wrapped my hand around the plastic, feeling the stiff material beneath my fingers. I hadn’t had carnations since we split up. There was something even more heartbreaking about that thought mixed with the fact that my dad was gone. Just gone.

  I put the flowers in water, and Tyler sat down on my couch.

  “What happened?” he asked. He looked distraught, an expression I’d seen on his face before.

  I sat a few feet away from him, Ranger, long gone and hidden somewhere else in the apartment. I shrugged. “The medical examiner is doing an autopsy, but the paramedics on the scene think he had a heart attack.”

  “But had he had any heart problems before?”

  I rubbed my fingers along the lining of the blanket I’d been covered up with. “No,” I sniffed. “But you know him, he hadn’t been to the doctor in years – but he hadn’t complained of any pain. Not to me.”

  “Yeah, but he probably wouldn’t have told you or anyone else.”

  I nodded. “He was beyond stubborn.” I paused. “Which is too bad. Maybe if he wasn’t…he’d still be alive.”

  “I just can’t believe it,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “Owen told me this afternoon. He came into work and said that he had died yesterday.” He shook his head. “How did I not know?” His distraught feelings surprised me a little – sure Tyler had worked for my dad, but there had been some animosity, especially from Tyler at the end.

  “It’s all right, Tyler.” I reached out and patted his arm. “How would you have known?”

  “I could have said something to him… I could have thanked him for…” his words trailed off and I held my breath waiting for him to continue. “For…everything.”

  The tears pressed against my eyelids. “He thought a lot of you, Tyler. Even after you left.” I was reminded of my dad’s request to make amends with Tyler to fix the business. The conversation with Dad seemed so far away now, so insignificant compared to the reality of what had happened.

  “Everyone has to move on, and grow, he knew that.” Even as I said the words, I knew my dad was somewhere out there cursing me, no doubt knowing the full story now, the truth of what had happened between Tyler and I and how things had really ended.

  “He taught me a lot. I thought I was some big hot shot right out of school as a master technician – but he proved me wrong. He showed me that knowledge was infinite, always new things to learn, to adapt to, especially in the car business.”

  The tears slipped down my cheeks now. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I wanted to say something, to tell him it was okay, but I couldn’t make those words come out of my mouth. Things weren’t okay.

  “He pushed me harder than anyone has ever pushed me in my whole life – to be my best. To do my best. Even more than my own father. He made me the best at what I did, because I would get so pissed at him for insinuating that I couldn’t figure something out – or do better – or just be better. Then I would do it. I would figure it out, and the look of pride of his face...” He stopped there, seeming unable to continue.

  The tears were flowing freely down my cheeks now, no stopping them, like a dam had been released.

  After a few moments, he continued. “I just thought I had more time to thank him.” He looked at me for the first time since he sat on the couch. His eyes were glassy, his hair ruffled and messy. “I always planned on it, Rowan. I really did. No matter what happened to us. I planned to thank him for all that he did for me. For pushing me.”

  I nodded. “I know. We all had a lot to thank him for.”

  “Shit.” He looked up at me. His green eyes watery and blood shot. “I’m sorry. I just come in here and unload on you, when you’re going through more than anyone else.”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay.” I meant those words. Having Tyler here, was almost a relief – to have someone to share my grief with. He was the first person, outside of Red, whose sadness seemed genuine – not just sad for me, for my loss.

  We sat there for some time in the silence of my tiny apartment. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. After a while I decided to speak. “He told me once that he thought you had a lot of potential. More potential than anyone else that had ever c
ome through the shop.” I paused, my gaze still on him. “It was because you cared about the cars, about your customers. He always said that was hard to come by.” This seemed important – to tell him this, in spite of everything bitter and broken between us.

  “Thank you.”

  The silence surrounded us again, but it wasn’t that awkward, uncomfortable silence. It was the kind of silence that could fill up everything and make you feel whole again. The kind noiselessness that held you close with comfort. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, or when Tyler finally left my apartment, but when I woke up the next morning, he was gone.

  I adjusted my tie in the mirror. The black linen swinging back and forth. The tie looked fine, but I tugged on it to avoid the pair of light blue eyes staring daggers at me.

  “You’re really going to go to this thing?”

  “It’s not a thing, Evie, it’s a funeral for a good man.”

  She made a scoffing noise, and placed her hands on her hips. “I’ve never heard you speak a single good thing about this dude, and suddenly he dies and he was your best friend?”

  “It’s not that simple, Evie. He was a good man. He taught me a lot. I wouldn’t be where I am today in the car business if it wasn’t for George Steel.”

  “Yeah, sure. If I remember correctly, he screwed you over and you were scared to leave your job because you didn’t want it to fuck up your relationship with little Tomboy Sue.”

  I turned around, meeting Evie’s gaze head on. “It’s more complicated than that.” She stood before me wearing yoga pants and a half-shirt. She had cheerleading practice later today. Irritation burned at the back of my throat. I didn’t want to have to explain my relationship with George Steel. His death was too fresh, the fact that I had never thanked him still a burn beneath my heart.

  “It’s complicated because of her, you mean.”

  I paused at her words and ran a hand down my face. “Rowan has nothing to do with this.” The words weren’t true, and I hated that. I hated that I was lying to Evie. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to be that guy – but I supposed I had given up on that awhile ago, when I’d had sex with Rowan in her apartment. That seemed like ages ago now.

  When I’d heard about George’s death, Rowan was the first person I thought of. I told myself this was understandable, normal. George was Rowan’s father, so of course I would think of her and wonder how she was doing. But even I knew it went beyond that. I knew how close her and her dad were. I knew he was her only family. She was his everything and he was hers. It was that simple. To be concerned about how she was doing, and visiting her at her apartment to make sure she was okay, was a natural response – even for an ex, I told myself. It didn’t mean things were changing or that I had some sort of revolving feelings for Rowan I couldn’t let go of – hell no. It was far from that.

  “How could she not have anything to do with this?” She through her hands up in the air. “I mean don’t you think all of this is just a little fishy?”

  I frowned at Evie. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh, come on, Ty, think clearly about this – you haven’t heard from her in how long? And suddenly now she is entrenched in your life again? She’s practically everywhere you are these days, and now, conveniently, her dad just up and dies, and you’re needed at a funeral! Come on!”

  I shook my head. “Rowan might be shitty person, she might have cheated on me, and put me through the fucking ringer, but going to the trouble of faking a death? Come on, Evie.”

  “Women are crazy, conniving creatures, Ty, you should know that by now. Some of them will stop at nothing to get what they want.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.” I turned away from her and grabbed my cell phone off my nightstand.

  I barely made it to the door when I heard her start to sniffle. A wave of guilt crashed into me. I didn’t want to feel it – I didn’t want to feel anything, not right now, not when the ache of loss had become so overwhelming. I couldn’t describe it – the way I felt the other night in Rowan’s apartment. I had gone to check on her, to make sure she was okay, and yet I had spent most of my time there talking about myself, about my own sorrow over his loss, and in true Rowan fashion she had listened to me with no complaints, with no demands from me whatsoever.

  I turned around, Evie was the opposite of Rowan in every way, from hair color to personality. Evie only made demands of me. She thrived off her own control, her ability to run not just her life, but mine as well. She was social, loud, and extravagant in her looks, her demands, her wants, her needs. The change had been a breath of fresh air for me – to leave what I had originally believed was the best relationship of my life, a relationship that caved in on itself when Rowan ripped my heart out of my chest – and get into this relationship that was full of explanation, of talking, of demands. Rowan and I had lived in silence, and there had always been a comfort in it, between us, but that comfort had turned into something poisonous. There was never any silence when it came to Evie, which meant no surprises, and I had been taking that for granted lately.

  “Baby, don’t cry.” I moved toward her as her face crumpled.

  “I just feel like you don’t love me anymore.” Her voice was high-pitched and whiny, making the guilt dig deeper.

  I wrapped my arms around her. “Don’t feel that way, okay? Please. I do love you. You should know that. I just…” my voice trailed off. What was I supposed to say? In reality I was no better than Rowan, though Evie didn’t know that. She didn’t know just how shitty of a boyfriend I had really been. “I’m just heartbroken I never thanked George Steel for all that he taught me. There were plenty of ill feelings for him, and I’m just sorry I didn’t get over them in time.” Those words were the truth.

  Evie continued to cry into my blazer and I let her, my arms wrapped around her. “I just feel like you haven’t wanted to be around me these few weeks, and I just, I just don’t know what to do with that. No one has ever been like that with me before.”

  Part of me wanted to laugh. Of course, I didn’t. Women like Evie were used to being taken care of, catered to, cherished, though admittedly since Rowan, I hadn’t really had it in me to cherish or worship anyone, not even Evie.

  “I’m sorry. It hasn’t been like that. There’s just been a lot going on. Come on.” I coaxed her chin up so her gaze would meet mine. Her face was red, her cheeks wet. She was gorgeous, there was no denying that. Another stab of guilt hit me in the chest. I never wanted to hurt anyone, especially Evie. She had been handful since we got together, but I knew she would be when we met. “I love you, okay. I mean it.” I pressed my lips to hers. “Only you.”

  She nodded, a glimmer of hope filtering through her gaze. “I love you too.” She paused. “I understand why you want to go…but I don’t like it. I don’t like that she will be there. I just don’t believe that things are over for her. She wants you back, and I want you to stay away from her.” She stood straighter, and wiped her cheeks. “Understand?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.” How could I not accept her request? It wasn’t a ridiculous one. I probably shouldn’t have been spending so much time with my ex anyway. But I knew, even as we walked out of my apartment together and kissed next to her car, that it was a promise I couldn’t, wouldn’t keep.

  The heat from the Texas summer sun pressed down on my shoulders, which were enshrouded in my back dress. The cemetery was only a few blocks from Dad’s house, the only cemetery on this side of town. It was an old one, older than the two new ones across town. Those cemeteries were just a mass of graves with little to no trees. This one, started not long after the Civil War, had trees everywhere, to the point that some headstones had been broken in half due to their growth. It sounded ill-kempt and messy, but it wasn’t. It was beautiful.

  I’d come here with my dad once for the funeral of Lacey McCallahan in middle school. I could distinctly remember walking across the ceme
tery with him, my hand in his. He hadn’t had much to say about the death of my fellow middle-schooler. I expected, like much of the town, that he was equally disappointed to see a young person go. I think he was secretly glad I didn’t play basketball, that I liked to hang out with him and was interested in cars. I knew he didn’t want to go to the funeral, but he didn’t have any qualms about taking me when I asked to go.

  He didn’t like death, though I supposed no one actually did. The whole concept of it seemed to make him uncomfortable. I’d considered this on rare occasions and had come to the conclusion that it was because he wasn’t much of a spiritual man. At least not anymore. He’d left the Catholic Church when he left his family in Italy all those years ago. I believed he felt uncertain about the fate that awaited everyone after death. He didn’t buy into heaven and hell, he had told me as much, but he didn’t believe there was just nothing – just a hole in the ground forever. He thought that was too cruel. I only knew this because he told me that day as we walked back home after Lacey’s funeral.

  We had stopped at the old iron-gated entrance that led back to the main road and toward our house. I remembered feeling surprised when he had turned around to look back at the cemetery. The iron gate was less rusted back then, the words “Ol’ Southern Cemetery” sprawled across the top. I could distinctly remember what it looked like, a wooded jungle of death, with haphazard gravestones dating back hundreds of years.

  “A secluded, mysterious place like this wouldn’t be so bad to spend forever in, though. Don’t you think, kiddo?”

  He hadn’t waited for me to answer, but pulled me along to head home. I’d never forgotten that interaction – the only one I’d ever had with my dad that discussed anything death-related. It was why I stood now in the Ol’ Southern Cemetery under a green tarped awning, that somehow the Texas heat still seemed to permeate, burying my dad. There were other people gathered around me, staring at the bright red casket with sadness in their eyes.