Sweetheart

by Sarah Mayberry

  It was a lovely way to spend my Sunday, but I felt weighed down by what I’d learned about his relationship with Jess. I had never discussed my suspicions about her mental health with anyone outside my family before, and being able to talk frankly with Beck about Jess without being worried he’d back off or wouldn’t understand was a gift.

  But I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jess had done with Larry. It haunted me all day and into the evening, and I kept reaching out to caress her silky coat or rub one of her velvety ears as we watched an old movie on Beck’s couch that night, feeling guilty by association even though I knew the situation had nothing to do with me.

  It worried me that Jess could behave so destructively. She’d always been prone to acting on impulse, but Beck’s story revealed she was capable of acting out on a whole new level. It made me feel as though the way my parents and I had been managing her through the years was not only misguided, but maybe even negligent. We'd been telling ourselves that our weekly phone calls and occasional visits were keeping her grounded, but clearly we'd been deluded.

  I was staring blankly at the TV screen, my mind churning through all the issues, when Beck pressed a kiss to the side of my neck.

  “You’re not your sister’s keeper,” he said, his voice a low, sincere rumble.

  I looked at him over my shoulder, stunned he’d intuited what was on my mind.

  “How did you know what I was thinking about?”

  “The girl in the red in this movie is wearing a really cool pair of shoes, and you didn’t bat an eye.”

  I glanced at the screen, and, sure enough, one of the women was wearing a truly stunning pair of two-tone nineteen fifties pumps with a jeweled buckle.

  “Oh, those are nice,” I said appreciatively.

  “There she is,” Beck said, smiling.

  I smiled back at him, but I had to ask, “If I’m not my sister’s keeper, who is?”

  “Jess is. She’s an adult. She can drive a car, vote in elections, pay taxes, manage her healthcare. She’s the only person responsible for her.”

  What Beck said made sense, but it went against every lesson I’d learned growing up. It had always been my job to help clean up Jess’s messes, to absorb the hits when they came my way, and always, always be available when she or my parents needed me. It was simply the way our family had functioned.

  I didn’t want to get into that with Beck, though—he’d had enough Elliot family for one day, I figured—so I focused on what was happening on the screen and let myself sink into the story. I had to leave early the next morning to go back to my place to get ready to open the Bean, so we turned the TV off at ten and crawled into bed to fool around until we fell asleep.

  It was still dark outside when Beck escorted me to my car the next morning and kissed me goodbye. I dashed home and got ready for work and was locking my front door when my mother texted.

  Just leaving NYC now. Home soon!

  I texted back a thumbs up emoji, then typed in a question:

  How’s Jess doing?

  Three dots appeared, quickly followed by another message:

  She’s taking it hard. Will be good for her to be home.

  I’d already assured them Jess’s room was ready for her, so I told my mother I’d see her soon and started the short walk to work. It was a slow morning that turned frantic when a tour bus unloaded a bunch of tourists right before lunch. I was glad of the distraction but disappointed I could only smile in passing at Beck when he arrived with our beans.

  After work, I stopped by the supermarket to grab some groceries for my parents, then stowed everything in their fridge and pantry. Then I went home to wait for news that they were back.

  I was busy making more keyrings for the gift shop in Stowe when my Dad called at three to say they were home. I took a deep breath before cleaning up my workbench and getting into my car to drive to my parents’ place.

  I could hear my father talking in the kitchen as I let myself into the house. It sounded like a monologue, because no one was responding to his verbal cues, but when I entered the kitchen I saw that Jess was sitting at the kitchen table, her face blank as she stared at the tabletop, her long blond hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She wasn’t wearing makeup and her eyes were red and puffy-looking.

  “Hey. You made it,” I said.

  Jess’s gaze flicked toward me briefly before returning to the table. “Hey, Hales.”

  Her voice was flat, devoid of all emotion. I could see why my parents were worried. I hadn’t seen her like this for years.

  “Iced tea, Haley?” my father asked, his tone hearty. “I was talking Jess through the menu options for dinner.”

  “Thanks, Dad. If Dad's offering his chicken with asparagus and polenta you should jump on that, Jess. It's amazing."

  “Sure. Whatever is easy,” Jess said with a shrug.

  I made eye contact with Dad and he raised his eyebrows to signal his concern. Mom came in from the yard carrying a laundry basket and smiled at me.

  “Hello, darling. How was work?”

  “Good. We got slammed by some tourists at lunch time, but that just means it was a good day for Zara and Audrey.”

  Jess lifted her gaze from the table to focus on me. “Zara Rossi? I didn’t know you were working for her.”

  “Her and Audrey Shipley. You wouldn’t know her. She moved to town after marrying Griff Shipley a few years ago,” I explained.

  The gleam of interest left Jess’s gaze, and she returned to her contemplation of the table.

  Dad slid a glass of iced tea in front of both of us, along with a plate of cookies.

  “Chocolate chip, your favorites,” he said, giving Jess’s shoulder an affectionate pat.

  “Try to eat something, darling,” Mom encouraged.

  I could see the muscles in Jess’s jaw clench, but she reached out and took a cookie without a word. Then she took a bite and chewed mechanically, her gaze once again fixed on the table.

  “How was the trip home?” I asked.

  “We got hung up in some traffic in Connecticut,” Dad said.

  “Otherwise it wasn’t bad. Our hotel was nice, too,” Mom said.

  Jess had started pulling the remainder of the cookie apart, turning it into crumbs, her head bowed now. She looked utterly dejected and miserable, and I wasn’t surprised when a fat tear plopped onto the table.

  “It’s going to be okay, Jess,” my mom said firmly. “You’re home now. We’ve got you. You can just rest and sleep and eat good food and everything will feel okay again soon.”

  “No, it won’t. Sleep won’t change the fact that I’m a piece of shit. Food won’t change the fact that I fuck everything up. No one is ever going to love me the way I love them.” Jess’s voice throbbed with emotion, her hands pressed flat against the table.

  I’d seen her like this before, full of vicious self-loathing, but that didn’t mean it was easy to watch. For the thousandth time, I wondered at the irony and sadness of somebody being so beautiful on the outside, yet so damaged and fractured beneath that perfect surface.

  “We love you. We’ll always love you.” Dad took her hand.

  “Why don’t you try to take a nap?” Mom suggested. “Haley has made your room so nice for you. You must be tired after the long drive.”

  Jess nodded, tears dripping unheeded from her nose and chin. She pushed back her chair and walked slowly from the room. After a few moments, my mother made a quick check of the hallway.

  “Her door is shut. Where did you put her bags?” she asked my father in a hushed tone.

  “Living room,” Dad said, pushing himself to his feet.

  I followed them into the living room, trying to work out what was going on. My mother unzipped a large suitcase and started sifting through the clothes, looking for something.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, baffled.

  “I didn’t get a chance to do this when we packed,” Mom explained.

  And suddenly I realized she wa
s checking for pills. Just in case.

  I frowned, understanding their concern but troubled by how invasive their search was.

  “Maybe you should just ask Jess if she’s got anything?” I asked.

  Mom glanced at me. “And what if she lies? I’d rather be safe than sorry, Haley. Sad, but true.”

  She finished searching inside the case then patted down the outside pockets, and I saw that her hands were shaking. The outward sign of her inner turmoil brought home to me how afraid she was of history repeating itself. Sympathy made me bite my tongue as both my parents continued the search. They turned up some antibiotics and supplements, carefully searching the drug names on Dad’s phone. After they determined nothing was dangerous, my mom put everything back and zipped up the cases.

  “Okay,” Mom said with a sigh. “I’ll sleep a little easier knowing we don’t have anything to worry about here.”

  The three of us returned to the kitchen, and even though I understood their concern, I couldn’t help feeling like a guilty accomplice in the crime of invading my sister’s privacy.

  “Can you stay for dinner? I think it would be nice for Jess to have us all here on her first night,” Dad said.

  “Sure, I can do that,” I said. “Anything I can help with?”

  “I’ve got it.” Dad squeezed my shoulder on his way to the fridge.

  “There’s something we need to talk about before Jess joins us again.” Mom patted the seat next to her and I sank into it, eyebrows raised in query.

  “What’s up?”

  “This situation with you and Beck. Obviously we can’t break the news to Jess right now. She’s already so fragile. Your father and I think it might be best if you and Beck dialed things down for a bit.”

  My mother dropped her bombshell as casually as if she were asking me to pick up her dry cleaning or water the garden. My heart sank to my feet as I stared at her.

  “You want me to break up with Beck?” I checked, just to make sure I wasn’t misinterpreting her words.

  “We’re asking you to put your relationship with him on the back burner for a couple of weeks. Just until she’s found her feet again,” Dad said. “Colebury is a small town; you know that. There’s no way we can keep a lid on things if you and Beck are running around together.”

  I looked from my father to my mother, utterly stunned by their request. “How am I supposed to explain this to Beck?”

  “Don’t make this into a big drama, Haley,” my mom said. “I’m sure if you fill him in on how Jess is feeling right now, Beck will understand. He knows Jess and how she can get. And it’s not as though you two have been seeing each other very long.”

  I blinked slowly. “I’m in love with this man, Mom. I don’t want to ask him to back off.”

  It felt wrong to declare my feelings to my parents before I had shared them with Beck, but they were pushing me into an impossible position, and I needed them to understand what they were asking of me.

  “It’s only a couple of weeks,” Mom said, her expression perplexed. “I really don’t think it’s a lot to ask, Haley. Surely you can understand how hard it would be for her to see you having a happy relationship with her ex when she’s recovering from a breakup?”

  I stared at them, my chest tight, my head full of the stories Beck had told me about his relationship with my sister. The gaslighting, the cheating, and what she’d done with Larry. It seemed impossible that Beck had wanted to be with me. That he thought I was worth it.

  At what point did that change, though? At what point did I become the girl with the very messy family who just kept asking more of him?

  “You don’t understand,” I said. “Beck is the last person in the world who should ever have to worry about Jess’s feelings after what she did to him when they broke up.”

  My mother stiffened. “There are two sides to every story, Haley.”

  “She gave his dog away and told him it had been hit by a car and died,” I said, and my mother flinched. “Please find me the other side of that story.”

  “She was probably upset. You know she does things without thinking sometimes when she’s worked up,” Dad said. “And I hate to state the obvious, Haley, but if Daniel cares for you, asking him to cool it for a while shouldn’t matter.”

  I closed my eyes, needing a moment to get a grip on my temper, more than a little stunned by the way my parents were prepared to make excuses for Jess’s cruelty while simultaneously sacrificing my happiness on the altar of her “fragility.”

  "I know you're only trying to do the best thing for Jess, but if she’s so unstable that she can’t handle hearing about me and Beck, then we need to get her some professional help,” I said, finally daring to touch on the untouchable subject of my sister’s mental health. “It's probably something we should have done a long time ago, based on what Beck's told me about their relationship."

  My mother bristled. "She won't go, Haley. You know that. And it will only upset her if we bring it up. You've seen how low she is. The last thing we want to do is give her another reason to feel bad about herself. She’ll be fine if we can just keep things nice and calm for the next few weeks. She’ll find her balance again.” My mother reached out to take my hand, her expression urgent. “I’m asking you to do this for us, and for Jess. Is it really so much?”

  I stared at our joined hands. I had given up a lot for Jess over the years. I’d made a lot of allowances and swallowed a lot of shit because I had always understood how unhappy she was and how much my parents worried about her. But I really, really didn’t want to have to give up Beck, even for just a few weeks.

  I knew he’d probably do it if I asked, but I felt sick just thinking about it. He’d been so good and patient and caring. He’d even helped me get Jess’s room ready for her, after everything she’d put him through. How could I ask for more from him?

  After a long, tense beat, my mother pulled her hand away. “If you don’t think you can do this, then maybe you need to stay away for a while.”

  Her words hit me like a slap. I lifted my head to stare at her, blinking rapidly.

  “You want me to stay away?”

  “What’s the alternative?” my mother asked coolly. “We can’t risk upsetting Jess. If it’s not too much to ask, perhaps you and Beck could at least try to be discreet when you’re in Colebury.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see my father gesture as though he was going to intervene, but he didn't say anything.

  I blinked once, then twice. Then I pushed back my chair and stood. I reached for my car keys and bag. Not looking at either of them, I exited the kitchen and walked down the hallway to the front door.

  It was a surprise to walk out and find that it was still summer in Vermont. The sky was blue, the trees were green, the breeze was warm on my bare arms and face.

  I walked to my car, got inside and started the engine. It was a five minute drive to my place, and I kept my mind carefully blank until I’d parked the car.

  And then suddenly I couldn’t move. All I could hear was my mother’s voice in my head, cold and distant and implacable.

  If you don’t think you can do this, then maybe you need to stay away for a while.

  All my life I had been the good daughter. The quiet one, the obedient one, the undemanding one. I’d borne my sister’s insults when she was raging, comforted her when she was desolate, and tag teamed with my parents to ensure we would never, ever miss the warning signs again.

  And the one time I’d asked for something for myself, the one time I’d pushed back against the narrative that my sister and her needs must come first, my mother had kicked me to the curb.

  If you don’t think you can do this, then maybe you need to stay away for a while.

  My phone rang in my bag, and I was so distracted it took me a moment to understand what the noise was. I dumped my bag onto the passenger seat, too out of it to fumble through pockets. Beck’s smiling face filled my phone screen, letting me know he was waiting for me
to pick up his call.

  I’d taken the picture during our weekend hike. It had been such a good day, just him, me, and Larry walking through the sunshine, licking donut sugar off our fingers.

  My chin started to wobble as I pressed the screen to take the call.

  “Can you come?” I asked on a sob.

  His reply was instant. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  35

  Beck

  I sat on the speed limit all the way to Haley’s place, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

  I had no idea what had happened, but my gut told me it was about Jess. Had she done or said something to hurt Haley?

  The thought made me want to Hulk out.

  I’d meant everything I said to Haley the other day about feeling sorry for Jess. Intellectually, I knew she had problems that drove her to do shitty things, but I was going to find it really hard to hang onto that notion if she’d wounded Haley in some way.

  Finally, I hit Colebury, and two minutes later I was pulling up to her apartment. I parked behind her little hatchback and jumped out of the van, stopping in my tracks when I saw Haley sitting behind the steering wheel, her head bowed.

  I rushed forward and pulled open her door. “Haley. What happened?”

  She lifted her face, and I saw the hurt and confusion in her eyes and the tears on her cheeks and my heart ached for her.

  “They… They sent me away,” she said, her voice small. “They said if I couldn’t do it I should stay away.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about, all I knew was that she was hurting. I crouched down and leaned into the car, pulling her into my arms. She clung to me, her body wracked with sobs, and I pressed my hand to the back of her head and waited for the storm to pass.

  After a couple of minutes she hiccuped and sniffed, pulling away from me.

  “I think I got snot on your shoulder,” she said.

  “Like I give a shit. Come on, let’s go inside.”

  I helped her gather her things from the car and then guided her into her apartment.