by Raven Scott
“Consider it done. Plus, I refuse to have my niece or nephew running around looking a hot mess because my brother picked their wardrobe.”
Collins and I pick up chatting as we walk back down to the bar as if no time has passed and like nothing between us has been awkward. Cannon and Rogen are sitting across from each other, Rain between them and two empty chairs on either side of them.
As soon as Collins sits down, Cannon leans over and kisses her. She whispers something to him and his eyes look up to find mine. A small smile spreads across his face and after Collins kisses his cheek, he leans over and puts his hand on mine.
“I love you, sis. Always.”
“I love you too, Cannon, even when you’re a pain in my ass.”
Rogen, Rain, and I order food, and for the next two hours it’s all talking and laughing and feeling normal for a while. I know that when I go to sleep tonight, it will probably be filled with nightmares again, but maybe I can at least try to let just a little happiness in during the day.
Once Rogen pays the bill, he leans over and puts his lips next to my ear. “You ready to head home?”
“Yeah,” I say in a whisper.
“Rain, we’re gonna head out. Want us to drop you back at home?”
Rain does that thing she did in the car where she glances between the two of us with a weird look on her face. “Nah. Collins or Cannon can drop me later. It’s been a long day. Take Parker home so she can rest.”
We both stand and go through the entire show of hugging and kissing everyone goodbye with promises of seeing them soon, and Collins reminds me that I agreed to lunch tomorrow. Rogen leads me out to the car, and I’m pretty sure I doze off before he even gets the car in drive.
Today was exhausting, but I think something clicked inside me. Like a bone that was out of place got set back to where it’s supposed to be. I don’t know what that means for tomorrow, but it’s going to be a new day.
I’ve been stuck in pain and anger; now it’s time to try to move to acceptance.
6
I’m up before the sun the next morning. In the kitchen, I quietly take out the waffle maker, a stovetop skillet, and two frying pans. Making amends with Collins last night and the tour of the school with Theodora’s friends yesterday clicked something in my brain.
I know I still have a very long way to go through the healing process, but I don’t want to wallow in this misery anymore. I’m going to lose the people I have left if I do, and this time there won’t be anyone to blame but myself. Just as the sun peeks through the curtains, I lay down the first round of bacon onto the skillet and then put corned beef hash into one of the frying pans and cover it with a lid.
I want to make Rogen a gourmet breakfast of all the things I know he likes. It’s not much, but it’s my way of thanking him for being here for me over the last year and to show him that even though he’s never pushed it, I’m going to at least try to start healing, no matter how hard it is.
After putting the first waffle on, I scramble a bunch of eggs and get them in the second frying pan before pulling out two bowls and two plates to start putting this food on. A smile spreads across my face as I turn the bacon, trying my best to make sure it’s the perfect mix of crispy but still bendable. That’s how Rogen likes it. Then I pull out the first waffle, which smells so good that I think about eating it while I’m cooking. I don’t though, and mix the corned beef hash before adding shredded cheese to the eggs and covering it so it gets all gooey.
While everything is going, the first chirp of birds filters through from outside as I get a pot of coffee started.
“Holy fuck, it smells delicious in here.”
I jump at Rogen’s voice and almost drop the mugs I was pulling down from the cabinet. I glance at Rogen as I turn back to the stove. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of sweats with his hair sticking out in all directions. Turning my back on him, I smile at how cute he is in the morning.
Wait . . . what? When have I ever thought of my best friend as cute?
He is, though. If I’m being honest, Rogen is downright sexy with his lean muscles and tattoos covering his chest and upper torso, disappearing over his shoulders. Taking off the first round of bacon, I throw the second round right on before getting the eggs and corned beef hash out of the frying pans. Setting it all on the little kitchen island, I get the second waffle off and add it to the first, sliding the entire plate toward Rogen before grabbing another plate and putting one more waffle on.
I can feel him staring at me as I move around the kitchen getting the butter and syrup out as well as forks and knives for us. By the time I get my waffle and the second round of bacon off the skillet, joining Rogen at the island, he’s already done one waffle.
“Want coffee?” I ask, getting up to get it because I know he does.
“What’s this about, P? You never get up and make breakfast, and surely not something this big.”
Carrying two mugs back to him, I slide one over. “I wanted to use it to say thank you. For everything. You’re the only one who’s literally stayed by my side this entire year. You’ve never been pushy, and you’ve dealt with everything from my depression to my nightmares to my mood swings.”
Rogen sets his fork down on the side of his plate, his brown eyes boring into mine. “You don’t have to thank me for any of that, Parker.”
I sigh with a sad smile. “I know, but I just wanted to do something nice for you. You take care of me more than anyone realizes, and . . .” The tears well-up in my eyes before I can stop them.
Shaking my head, I try to turn away, but Rogen gets up and is at my side, pulling me to his chest, holding my head there while I wrap my arms around him. “Don’t cry, P. Thank you. This breakfast is amazing, and it says more than words ever could.” He kisses the top of my head and I’m kinda surprised when I nuzzle further into him.
After a while, he leans back and looks down into my face, gently cupping the side of it. “Something else is going on. So what is it?”
I remove my arms from around him and wipe under my eyes, taking a deep breath to tell him my plans for this morning. “I’m going to pack up Dalton’s stuff today.”
The emotions that flash through Rogen’s eyes match the ones running through my heart. I don’t have to tell him how hard this is for me. His eyes tell me he fully understands.
“Do you want me to stay with you while you do? I don’t have to be to work until five,” he asks with his voice soft and calm.
I nod my head and bite at my bottom lip. I’d planned to do this alone, knowing I might break down . . . a lot, but having Rogen here feels right— almost like I can pull strength from him and into myself.
“You don’t have to do this yet, Parker. It’s okay if you’re not ready.”
“I know,” I say with a sigh as I stand tall. “But I need to do this. I don’t think I’ll ever truly be ready, but I can’t keep living like I have. Dalton wouldn’t want this; he wouldn’t want me miserable like this. So it’s time to at least start the healing process, and this is what I’m starting with.”
Rogen and I clean up the kitchen together and then he grabs some spare boxes from his room and puts them together, setting them side-by-side on the couch. I start in the living room, going in sections and handing Rogen different things of Dalton’s. He places them in boxes depending on what they are and the breakable things he wraps in newspaper before packing.
It’s not easy boxing up the only tangible things left of a relationship that lasted as long as mine and Dalton’s did. Each thing I pick up, I hold for a moment, turning it over in my hands. I cry quietly off and on, but Rogen never once grows impatient or irritated with me. He just waits quietly until I hand each thing to him.
The couple of times I start to cry hard, he wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my hair or my shoulder, whispering for me to let it out and that it’s going to be okay. After we finish the living room, we move to Dalton’s personal belongings and clothes in my bedroom. I
take everything out of the closet and pack it but leave the framed picture of us on my dresser.
As I open the dresser drawers and start pulling clothes out, Rogen comes over and takes my hands in his. “Can I suggest something?”
I nod. “Of course.”
“Keep something. A favorite shirt, maybe. That way, when you have bad days, you still have something of him here with you.”
My heart swells with how amazingly sweet the man in front of me is. When he lets my hands go, I open another drawer and pull out Dalton’s favorite lounging tee. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale and let his smell run through me. Clutching it to my chest for a minute, I breathe through the pain, the heartache, and every other emotion that comes with this.
I toss the tee onto the bed and Rogen helps me finish packing everything else. By the time we're done, I think I’m cried out but part of me feels lighter, cleansed. It’s strange but even more refreshing than I thought it would be.
Staring at the full boxes on the couch, Rogen again wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. “You have to meet Collins soon. I’ll get these all taped up and stuff. Why don’t you hop in the shower.”
Turning to face him, I rest my hands on his hips. “Thank you for this. I won’t be able to say that enough. Thank you so much for being here and letting me do this.”
Rogen kisses my temple before heading into the kitchen and swiping the packing tape off the counter. “No more thanking me. Go get your beautiful self in the shower.”
A smile, albeit small, spreads across my face as I go past him and head into my bathroom. As I pick out clothes to wear for my lunch date with Collins, I realize just how lucky I am. Not many people have a friend like I do in Rogen, someone who always puts them first, makes sure they’re taken care of and cared for. Hell, most people would probably kill for what I’ve been taking for granted the last year.
I know my pain isn’t over, but I’m going to make sure it doesn’t stop me from being thankful anymore. Dalton’s death should have taught me how precious life is and that tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us. That accident could have been any of us, or anyone in all of Scotland. I’ve got to stop thinking that I’ll always have tomorrow to fix things, because there might come a day when I don’t.
By the time I get out of the shower, I’ve only got twenty minutes to meet Collins. Rogen is making himself some lunch when I come out and slide a light jacket on. “Are you working late tonight?”
He turns toward me and grins. “I don’t have to.”
“Don’t rush, but text me when you get off and I’ll start dinner.”
He sets the spatula in his hand down on the counter and walks over to hug me tight. “I will. I’ll take the boxes to your storage unit before work. I’m really proud of you, Parker. So damn proud.”
When he pulls back to look at me, I lean up and kiss his cheek before turning and heading out of the house. Halfway down the front steps, I stop dead, realizing what I just did. Did I really just kiss Rogen on the cheek? I’ve never done that before . . . but the smile on his face as I pulled away made me glad I did.
I shake my head and keep going to the car, realizing that Rogen has been here for all of my pain but I haven’t bothered to learn anything about his. The sadness in Rogen’s eyes that I see glimpses of isn’t just for what I’m going through. I think I’ve just been too self-absorbed to let it register that my best friend has his own pain he’s hiding.
Well, now I’m going to question the only person who might be able to shed some light on that— my darling sister-in-law.
7
Walking into the quaint cafe Collins picked for lunch, I spot her sitting at a two-top table, leaning back in her chair with her hand sprawled across the center of her baby bump. Her eyes are closed and every few minutes she rubs her palm in a small circle, then stops and smiles.
I sigh and let the joy of watching her fill me. She’s been going through this whole pregnancy and I’ve been a complete bitch, and God only knows what I’ve missed out on. Silently promising myself that I’m going to be more present for my sister-in-law’s pregnancy, I make my way over and plop down in the seat across from her.
“I can’t believe how much you are truly glowing, Collins.”
Her eyes fly open and she smiles at me, reaching her hand from her stomach across the table to rest on mine. “I haven’t seen you smile like this in forever, Parker.”
I take a deep breath and cover her hand with my other one. “Rogen helped me pack up Dalton’s stuff today.”
Her smile turns sad as she sits up and puts her free hand atop our hand pile. “Are you okay? That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t, but you were right. Dalton wouldn’t want me to be miserable like I have been. He was so full of life, and he’d want me to be, too. I’m not saying I won’t have bad days, but I’m going to try to keep going. To really get back to living my life, not just existing through it.”
Just then a young waitress comes over and stops next to the table. “Hey, ladies. Can I get you all something to drink?” As she speaks, she sets two small menus down on the corner of the table.
“Tea, please, with a little lemon,” Collins says as she swipes one of the menus and starts looking it over.
“Same for me,” I say, picking up the other one.
“Sure thing. I’ll take your order after I get those for you.” She walks away and I glance at Collins. Her eyes are moving back and forth a mile a minute across the thick plastic menu she’s holding.
“So,” I say in a playful tone. “Are we going for light lunch or full-on stuff ourselves until we’re ready to puke?”
Collins burst out laughing which makes me chuckle too. “I hate to say it, but I’m starving. I mean, I’m always hungry now. It’s like this little bundle of joy sucks all the food right out of me. I’ve become a human garbage disposal.”
“Pig out until we puke it is!” I glance down at the menu. “Oh, how about the fried platter to start? It has fried pickles, fried green beans, loaded potato skins, fried cheese—”
“Yes, yes, and yes. Bitch, you had me at fried pickles. Oh, and they have a mushroom Swiss burger. Mmm, I want it.”
Collins and I chat and giggle until the waitress comes back. We end up getting the platter, Collins’s burger, and a loaded grilled cheese for me which has two types of cheese, bacon, ham, and tomato. I don’t have any clue how we’re going to eat all this, but whatever I don’t eat, I’ll take home to Rogen.
As we’re chatting, my phone dings with a text.
Rogen: Hey gorgeous. Just checking in on you and making sure you’re okay.
I can’t stop the smile that flits onto my face as I text him back.
Me: I’m good. Might bring leftovers home. Collins and I just ordered enough for an army.
My phone pings a second later.
Rogen: I will eat whatever you let me.
Before I can stop the thought, I have a mental image of Rogen eating something and it has nothing to do with food. My thighs press together as if they have a mind of their own and heat rushes to my cheeks.
What in the ever-loving-fuck is wrong with me today?
“Your face is as red as a stop sign,” Collins says with an air of amusement in her voice.
“Collins, can I ask you something without you getting angry?”
Her eyes go wide and she sits up straighter. “Of course.”
“I don’t know if I missed it because of my grief for the last year or if I’m just a terrible friend to him, but something hurt Rogen in the past, didn’t it?”
Collins presses her mouth into a thin line as she takes a deep breath. She looks out the window for a moment and I’m worried I’ve overstepped my limits considering she’s his sister.
“Collins, I just want to help him, if I can. He’s literally been my saving grace and if I can be there, even a fraction of how he’s been there for me, then I want to. But he doesn’t talk about anything. I don’t
think he’s ever talked about growing up or why he came here. Nothing.”
When she looks back at me, there’s a deep sadness in her eyes I’ve never really seen before, not even when I was getting to know her and she was going through her own issues. “Our parents wanted perfect children. They craved perfection the way a shark craves its prey when it scents blood. I was the disappointment, and Rogen spent his whole life trying to shield me from their cruelty, their ignorance. But he was a kid too, and kids can only take so much.
“He blamed himself for all the moments he couldn’t protect me from. Whether it was our parents or the shit Tyler put me through, Rogen felt like it was his personal responsibility to be the human shield. No matter how many times I tell him how much he did for me or how he saved me, it’s like he doesn’t hear it. He only sees the things he couldn’t do.”
My heart breaks for Rogen as Collins talks. She goes into detail about some of the hateful and mean things her parents would say and do when she and Rogen were younger. How Rogen was always the one who comforted her and made her believe she could succeed, that she was so much better than their parents, than him.
“Did he ever tell you that he’s the reason I came to Scotland?”
My eyes go wide and my brows shoot up. “No, wow, he’s never mentioned it.”
A lone tear falls down her cheek. “If it wasn’t for Rogen, I don’t know that I’d be alive today. Everything I have is because of his belief in me. This beautiful life I’ve built, coming here and meeting you and Rain and my wonderful husband. None of that would have happened if Rogen hadn't made sure I got my ass on that plane.”
Before Collins can go on, the waitress sets a huge platter piled high with fried goodness in the center of the table. “I’ll get you ladies some refills and your burgers will be out shortly.”
As we munch on the platter, we change the topic and Collins fills me in on some of the things, the small details, I’ve missed over the recent months. I find myself super grateful that Rogen did put Collins on that plane. She came here and loved my brother back to life. She became one of my most trusted friends. And if she hadn’t come here, Rogen wouldn’t have either, and I wouldn’t have my best friend at all.