What Remains

by Sarah Brocious

  What Remains

  Love Abounds

  Sarah Brocious

  Contents

  The return

  Crane’s AUTO REPAIR

  THE OLD PORCH

  TOWNS AND THEIR PICNICS

  Sundays at the wrights’

  memory lane

  Laying Roots

  out of the mouths of babes

  missed messages

  10. Protected

  11. demons of the past

  12. what remains

  ~Max’s Prologue

  Chapter 1 The Return

  HADLEY~

  The moment I saw familiar landscape from my window, I began questioning my decision. Returning home was the last thing I wanted to do. Coming back meant defeat. I had failed. We had failed. We? I don’t know why I still thought of us as a “we”. My “loving” husband had left this partnership long ago. Okay, so there was no more “we”. It was just I now. I was on this bus running home like a dog with its tail between its legs. It was all very humbling.

  The bus bumped its way down the main street and came to a gliding stop beside an old corner bench. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail. The dark blonde tresses did not wish to cooperate. Nothing about my life was cooperating at the moment. I peeked timidly out the window once more. It didn’t look like anyone was waiting and I was the only passenger gathering my things and heading down the aisle.

  I wiped a tear from my cheek as I exited the bus…my backpack slung over my shoulder. Hadn’t brought much with me. I didn’t really want the reminder of what I had left behind. I needed a clean slate. I needed stability. I needed my family.

  The bus pulled away seconds after my departure from it and left me an uninhibited view.

  My eyes wandered the nearly empty main street. The sun was close to dipping beneath the horizon, but the buildings could still be seen in the remaining warm light. It hadn’t changed much since I had moved away. Eight years now? I’d had my reasons then for leaving and not returning for a visit since; reasons I would have to face again. My eyes went to the diner down a ways and right beside it, the mechanic shop. The post office still stood and a small library was just visible past that. No, my little hometown had not changed much at all. Except now being a through route for the busing system.

  I was the one who had changed.

  “Hadley!”

  I turned to the familiar voice. My heart leapt into my throat. “Daddy!” I greeted, nearly knocked him over in my exuberance. A voice over the phone had never been enough. Big strong arms encircled me and I really was home.

  “Look at you!” He held me back and his warm brown eyes, much like mine, took me in. “Certainly haven’t changed!”

  I smiled up at him and laughed, since he had spoken such opposition to my own thoughts. I threw my arms around him again.

  He chuckled, rubbing my back gently. “Your mom and brother are at the house getting dinner ready.” He took my bag and offered his arm.

  We would be walking home. Our house was just down the street from downtown. I would welcome the walk down memory lane. Now that I was with him, things didn’t seem so hopeless.

  I wondered how much my mom had changed as I glimpsed up at my dad now. Marcus Wright had changed, but only slightly. He had a couple wrinkles about his eyes and his temples had greyed a bit but he was still handsome as ever. His ready smile hadn’t dimmed either; he flashed one at me now as he caught my studying eyes.

  “How you feeling, daughter?”

  I shrugged. “A little scared…a lot embarrassed.” I swallowed hard, fighting those tears that were ever present as of late.

  “I understand scared but, embarrassed?” He chuckled. “It’s not you who should feel embarrassed. Logan was the one who messed up.”

  Just hearing his name made me want to cry. Logan Stark with his beautiful face and charming ways. He could win over anyone. He knew it too. He had won me over. Of course during the time of the winning I had been quite heart broken. I was only eighteen at the time and nursing the wound of a recent break up. I’d lost my first love. Ironically, I had lost him in the same manner as I had lost Logan. I guess history really did repeat itself. The difference between the two had been; with my first love I had felt hurt and betrayal…and with Logan it had been pure anger. I knew Logan had the ability to be a player…to cheat. I had never considered Max could ever have done such a thing. Max was supposed to have been a good guy. He was close to our family. He’d been my brother Terry’s best friend. Maybe it had hurt so badly with him because I had fully trusted Max.

  I shook my head now. I didn’t want to think about Max. I didn’t want to think about Logan. I didn’t want to think about any man. I was home to nurse my wounds and regain my life. I had no idea what I would do with myself. I was only twenty-six. There was plenty of time to figure out what I should do.

  “I guess I feel embarrassed because it happened again. I should have learned from Max.”

  My dad stopped now and turned toward me. “This is nothing like with Max. Max never really…it was a misunderstanding.”

  “Daddy,” I sighed. He had always been a Max fan.

  “You never heard him out.”

  “I didn’t have to! His guilt was sealed when after I left, they moved in together!” Oh lord was I almost shouting now? How could I still get so emotional about it? I had left with Logan…we had married. We were together eight years! Yet I mourned still over this. I was nuts.

  “He had his reasons, Hadley. But up until then, I promise you…you were the only one for him. He was heartbroken when you left. We all were.” His voice had softened.

  I linked my arm around his and we started walking again. “I’ve said I was sorry a million times,” I sighed. “And, Dad, I really am.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that it still hurt.”

  I let my eyes focus on the familiar homes as we passed. I could name every family on this street. I had run from this place….glad to get away from that familiarity. I’d thought I needed excitement and change.

  Would I have run if what had happened with Max…hadn’t?

  “Would you have?”

  My heart leapt to my throat. Had I just asked my question out loud? The expectant look on my father’s face told me I had.

  “Well?”

  I stared down at the sidewalk and watched as each crack passed. “Probably not,” I spoke softly.

  My Dad’s arm slipped around my shoulders.

  “Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

  He nodded. “We won’t then,” he whispered. “I’m just glad you came back, little girl.” He gave me a squeeze and we continued on down the walk.

  When I saw the blue house with its white shutters, my heart leapt. This was home. I had to refrain from pulling away from my dad and running the rest of the way. The refraining ended when I saw Terry sitting on the stair waiting for me.

  He jumped to his feet. He stood tall and broader than I remembered, but his hug was all too familiar. Terry was never one to hold back. I felt the wind rush out of my lungs and my feet lose touch with the ground.

  He hadn’t said a thing yet and I had a feeling he was waiting for his emotions to come under control. I left mine unchecked and started to cry.

  We had been so close at one time. I knew he’d missed me as much as I had him. Again…a voice over the phone…texts, emails…video chats (he was much more adept at technology than my parents were) had not been enough. In truth, even that contact had slowed down over the last few years. I had been too busy nursing my failing marriage and too busy forgiving Logan over and over for his wandering. If I had spoken to Terry my resolve would have been broken. I would have spilled it all and I was not one to admit defeat. Yet, I had failed.


  “Welcome home, Ley,” he finally spoke, using my pet name. He lowered me and stepped back to study me. “Mom made meatloaf. Your favorite.”

  “No one can make it better,” I laughed and let him escort me up the stairs and into the house.

  My mom was in tears before I even reached her. “I heard your voice and couldn’t help it,” she defended herself and grabbed me close.

  “Annette, let the girl breathe,” my father chuckled.

  My Mom pulled back and wiped her tears with the dishtowel that was in her hands. “I’m so sorry for what happened…”

  “Let’s not, Mom,” I said softly. “I don’t want to talk about Logan. Eventually I will tell you all, but not today! Right now I want to enjoy that meatloaf I’m smelling!”

  She smiled back at me. “Go upstairs, clean up. The meal isn’t for another twenty minutes.”

  I took my bag from my Dad and headed up the stairs to my bedroom. As I walked in I realized it wasn’t just the town that hadn’t changed…neither had my room. Posters of celebrity crushes still hung on the wall. My trophies from various school achievements were on the shelves and as I neared the desk in the corner, I saw the photos I had once cherished of friends and family. They were captured still in their frames. My best friend Ana’s smile caused a tear. My grandparents…now passed forever memorialized in a frame. And there was Max, Max Brandon. My heart leapt in my throat.

  My memory of his appearance hadn’t been far off. That dark brown hair and those hazel eyes still caused butterflies. His grin in the photo looked a little embarrassed. He hated having his picture taken. A thousand memories invaded, as I stared at that photo. I remembered that amazing first kiss and grabbing his hand for the first time. Sneaking out at night to meet at the old town cemetery.

  How could a picture still affect me so much? I traced his smile and bit the inside of my cheek as tears threatened. He had been my first love. You don’t forget your first love and with the fresh break from Logan…I was feeling the past again. This was an excuse I could live with.

  There were other photos too…some containing Logan. He had been buddies with Terry and Max but never as close as the two best friends had been.

  I tossed my bag on my bed and moved to the window, pulling back the curtain to peer out. Next door stood the Brandon’s home. I wondered if they still lived there. Did Max visit? My cheeks warmed. It wouldn’t matter if he did. Would it? Was he still married to her? I shook my head physically to clear the thoughts and reached into my bag for fresh clothes. The bus ride had been long and my clothes bared proof of this.

  After I had cleaned up I rejoined my family down stairs. The table was set and Mom was just pulling the meatloaf from the oven. I saw the fluffy mashed potatoes and the steaming peas on the table and my stomach growled. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was…or maybe it was just the sight of my mom’s cooking. I took my place at the table. Yes, it was still my spot.

  My mom heaped the food onto my plate, while muttering something about me being too skinny. I stared down at my boney wrists and fingers and thought she might have a point. I hadn’t been eating very much lately.

  Everything was still routine here in the Wright home. With food on our plates, my Dad bowed his head to pray over the meal. I felt a sense of comfort from it, but also guilt. When was the last time I had crossed the threshold to a church? That would be eight years. Logan had never been one for “religion” and though I didn’t see myself as religious, I had missed Sundays here. Up early, dressed for church with a simple sermon at the Methodist Church. We’d go to a friend’s for lunch…or home, with friends following. It was always a social day…a relaxing day. It was a day of comfort.

  I lifted my head as Dad finished his prayer and happily dug into the food before me. It was just as delicious as I had remembered. I felt my Mom’s eyes on me now…so worried.

  Terry snickered. “Slow down, Ley…we got plenty of food to go around!”

  I blushed, shot him a look, and then laughed at myself. “I can’t help it! I’ve missed this,” I defended myself.

  Terry grinned and then dug in himself. He looked up after a couple mouthfuls, with apology in his eyes. “I have to head back to the shop after dinner. One project I have to shore up. But I won’t be long.”

  My mom protested before I could even respond. “Terry, you can’t leave it be until morning? I’m sure your Boss will be fine with that…considering…”

  “Mom, Mr. Doakes will be by early in the morning. He’s leaving for another trip and can’t very well do that without his car.” He shrugged.

  “And no one else can do this?” She looked frustrated.

  “Max is tied up tonight, or he would cover for me,” Terry sighed.

  The mention of his name hit me. That’s right…Max worked at the shop. He had started after high school. I couldn’t believe he was still there.

  My mom simply nodded in understanding. She was quick to forgive Terry and Max. Were they still the dynamic duo?

  “You can come down with me, Ley,” Terry offered. “It will just be you and I,” he promised when he saw my hesitation. “You remember how many afternoons we spent at that shop?”

  I smiled. It had been a hideout for some of us after school. The old man who owned it, Mr. Crane, had allowed us there as long as we didn’t get in the way of progress. He had taught both Terry and Max a lot about cars and repairing. I had been the tagalong little sister. I would sit and watch and Mr. Crane would sneak a pop to me when the boys were too busy to notice. Yes, the boys were the dynamic duo, but they’d always allowed me to be the third wheel. All the way up to before I left. Just after high school.

  I looked up at Terry now. “Yeah, I’d like to see the old place.

  Chapter 2 Crane’s Auto Repair

  It even smelled the same. Why would that be a shock? Autos hadn’t changed. There was oil, grease, and the scent of antifreeze. The familiarity of it transported me back to those after school days. Even the old stool I would perch upon was there in the corner.

  I poked about as Terry got to work on the vehicle in need. My eyes wandered to the old office door to the side. Mr. Crane had always chastised us for sneaking in there, but I had known where he hid his stash of sweets and the boys? Well, they would snag a few cigarettes. Mr. Crane would pretend he didn’t notice the missing articles, but would chastise us all the same for sneaking.

  I smiled sadly at a plaque on the wall in memorandum. His old weathered face and crinkly blue eyes smiled back. He had passed away a few years after I had left. I hadn’t said goodbye to him. I hadn’t really said goodbye to anyone. I’d just left. It was tough to swallow back the tears now, but I managed.

  I instead looked to the stair that led up to the second floor of the garage. Crane’s living quarters were up there. We had always wanted to see the upstairs, but he was very closed and private. We had contemplated sneaking up when he was away, but we were too good of kids for that. I was tempted to go up now, but hesitated. It was sure to be modest and simple, much like him. I was sure of it. He’d always said he didn’t need a lot of space to live happy. He had definitely been the happy sort. Another bout of tears threatened at that thought. I cut them off.

  “So you still love fixing cars huh?” I asked as I meandered back to my brother; pretending the tears weren’t under the surface. He straightened from the hood of the car and grinned.

  “I’m a lot better at it than I used to be, too.”

  I leaned against the vehicle and again gave the garage a once over. The scents hadn’t changed but there was a new order here. It was cleaner (as clean as a repair garage can be) and it was tidier. There were new machines…probably to run diagnostics on newer cars. Crane had always been a purist when it came to the shop. But the future had been brought in it seemed.

  “New owner seems to have whipped this place into shape.”

  Terry laughed. “Yeah, sure has.”

  “So clean and orderly,” I laughed.

  Terry chuckled fro
m beneath the hood. “That it is, but you know how much of a neat freak Max can be.”

  My brows rose in surprise. “Max? How didn’t I know? Why didn’t you…”

  “You asked me not to talk about Max, Ley, so I respected your wishes.”

  His words silenced my protest. “But he owns it now?”

  Terry nodded without taking his eyes off of his work. “Couple years now. After the old man passed, his son tried to maintain things, but he was not business savvy and knew nothing about autos. Max bought him out.”

  I frowned. “Max didn’t have two dimes to rub together. How did he manage that?”

  “His Grandpa passed and left him a good sum of money.”

  My heart dipped a little. “Papa Brandon died?”

  Terry frowned. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

  I looked away, feeling guilt over the fact that we hadn’t spoken more all of these years. I’d missed a lot…good and bad.

  Terry cleared his throat. “Being his only grandkid and all, Max was taken care of. He used it for the buyout of the garage and the café.”

  My eyes went to the window and toward the little café.

  “Mrs. Winston was having financial problems. Max helped her out. He let her keep part ownership. He didn’t want to see her go under. He lets her run it, same as before, but he helped renovate it. Its great…we should go for breakfast tomorrow.”

  I nodded, absentmindedly. So, Max Brandon had a monopoly on the little town? I would say he was a little bit like Potter from “It’s a Wonderful life” except, he seemed to be doing the town a kindness. I didn’t want to think of Max as kind. I wanted to see him as the cheating young man that broke my heart.

  “Regular good doer,” I muttered sarcastically.

  Terry was silent for a second and then cleared his throat. “You know, Ley, you’ve never let me tell you what really happened. You were just so sure what you heard was the truth. There was so much more to that story.”

  I folded my arms and refused to look at him. “All I know is that he moved in with Bethany shortly after I left.” I bit the inside of my cheek and tasted blood. “If that is not guilt, I don’t know what is.”