Love you always and forever,
Dad
He was a horrible person. Mom suffered but it sounds like she isn’t the victim she presumes to be. They both failed each other. Mostly, they failed their children.
ASPEN
“I’M IN LOVE,” Austin answers his phone.
“With who?” My brother is in love with the entire male population of the world.
“Asher Neville,” he retorts, the voice in a dreamy state. He’s a goner.
“Wait, the guy at Sophia’s celebration? You said you wouldn’t fuck him.”
He laughs. “I didn’t sleep with him. He made me feel special, asked about my life, my job,” he pauses inhaling deeply. No, sighing like a puppy in love. “He drove me home. Once we arrived at my place, he walked me to my door.”
“A gentleman, I like it.”
“Asher is a noble English gentleman.” His voice is jittery and filled with excitement. “As I opened the door and thanked him for driving me, he kissed my cheek and said, ‘I had a great time, Aussie. Talk to you soon’.”
“Hey, why is he using my nickname?” I protest.
“Ash thought it was adorable that you still called me that.”
“You have to keep me updated about this new beau of yours.”
“I will, why don’t you tell me what’s with you. That voice is giving you away.”
“Dad’s letter.” My voice shakes.
“You finally opened it?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you read it to me?”
“I don’t think I should . . .”
“Please?”
I read it to him from beginning to end.
He chuckles. “Mom said once that she was happy I looked like her brothers. I guess she liked to torture him.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I let go of Jonathan years ago, Aspen. I thought he hated me for being gay. It feels better knowing it was his insecurities and my mother’s mind games.” He pauses, I don’t understand why it’s better for him. “I’ve had years of therapy to get over my daddy issues, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me. You are the one who concerns me. What’s going on with Anderson? You left him hanging yesterday.”
Promptly, I explain everything up until the letter I read only a few minutes ago. This conversation doesn’t go without the ugly tears.
“From a counselor standpoint, it sounds like Jonathan made too many bad decisions to show the world his worth. Their marriage was a clusterfuck. Mom shouldn’t have played with my paternity.”
“What do I do?” The bank papers have a radioactive glow to them. It is suffocating to have so much money tainted with my father’s hands in my hands.
“With what exactly?”
“The letter and his money.”
“I’d enjoy making a hefty donation made in his bigot honor to any or many LGBTQIA non-profits.” He laughs. “Aspen, you’re a millionaire. Blow it, save it . . . don’t think where it came from. Think what you can do with it. Solve world hunger. Donate to low-income families so they can afford health insurance . . . forget about the guilt. That’s Jonathan’s, not yours.”
“Sounds effortless.”
“What are you going to do with Mom?”
“Meaning?” I avoid talking about her because I don’t have an answer. “Wait, how did Asher ask for your number?”
“Smooth.”
“Can you explain better, Aussie?” There’s nothing better than a sweet story to erase the heavy weight the letter left on my chest. “Smooth isn’t exactly something to swoon about.”
“No. I mean your transition from Mom to Ash. Aspen, you lost Father. Can you afford to ignore Mother?”
“What do I say? ‘Hey, I’m sorry you married an asshole, but you were kind of a bitch to him and to us’?”
He sighs. “All true, not what you should say. You two had a good relationship—better than the one I have with her.”
“I think I’ll drive to the Keys and visit her.” I head to Brooklyn’s room. “You want to come over?”
“No, Mom and I are working on our relationship, but from afar. Please, keep me updated. I love you, sis.”
“Love you, Aussie.”
Brooklyn stares at the letter. She narrows her gaze taking the statement from me. Her hand flies up to her mouth, shaking her head she continues. “Damn, girl. You won the lottery without buying a ticket.”
“If I decide to use it, I’ll stop the sale of the properties. Will that be okay?”
She flags the papers. “We’re rich, why sell?”
“I want to visit Scarlett, and then Mom. Can you come with?” I hear noise coming from her phone and point at it. “Did you leave someone on the phone?”
She shrugs. “We are waiting for you to have a meltdown.”
“Scarlett?”
She nods, smiling. “She’s part of us.”
I take the phone, putting her on speaker. “Hey, you.”
“What is it?” Scarlett is on speaker. “Bitch, I’m not there to see. What did you win?”
“Hundreds of millions of dollars.”
Brynn’s mouth remains agape.
“We are fucking millionaires!” Scarlett celebrates. Knowing my friend, she’s dancing all over the place. “What’s the plan? Maybe an island in the Pacific with entertainment . . . if you catch my drift.”
“Focus, Scarlett.” I snatch the papers from Brynn to get her attention. “It’s not that easy. The money is tainted.” I fold it putting everything together.
“What’s the plan?”
“There’s no plan, yet. Brynn and I want to start a practice. Maybe this can pay for it. I have to talk to Mom . . . wanna drive with us?”
“Just drive to the Keys?” Scarlett questions, Brynn is rolling her eyes. “We should celebrate, make it big and better.”
“Well, if we have to be on the road, why not have an adventure?” I blurt out of the blue. “Like Wild.”
Brynn tilts her head moving her lips from side to side. “Right. Like Into the Wild where the guy dies in Alaska?”
“We could do the one where that woman left everything behind,” Scarlett adds.
Brynn searches around her room and hugs herself tight shivering. “Around nature? Are you insane?”
“We can do Thelma and Louis,” I counteract.
“Thelma, Scarlett, and Louis,” Scarlett corrects.
“A walk across America?” Brynn continues.
“Paper Towns?” I disregard her walk. It’d take forever.
“I refuse to read John Green. Not after he made me cry in that movie.” Brynn mimes clearing a fake tear. “Why did he kill him?”
“Move on, Brooklyn,” Scarlett and I protest.
“No ladies, we have to do some grown up adventure—but not extreme.” I raise my eyebrow waiting for Brynn to finish her statement. “Well, most books are written for teenagers. We aren’t teenagers. What kind of teenager can afford a road trip? In all honesty, we can provide for ourselves while driving around the country. We can stay wherever we want and do whatever we want. No matter the movie or the book, we are doing what we never did because we were too busy studying and being responsible.”
“I like where Brynn is going.” Scarlett claps. “Let me talk to my uncle and Dad. We have new farm hands on the ranch. How long do you think this will take?”
“Weeks?” I suggest. “We need to map a route; find hotels that’ll accept Hugo.”
“It’s set, ladies. You two strategize,” Scarlett says. “I’ll find a way to escape and be with my girls.”
ASPEN
THE THING ABOUT best friends is that you don’t have to say much to fix your shit. But you must grovel all the way to Texas, and bring offerings along the way—like a big box filled with Sriracha flavored jerky.
“Now, fess up,” Scarlett says, snatching the box away from me.
“Hello, how are you? I missed you, bitch,” I initiate the conversation.
“Nope, I want to
know the fucking reason you distanced yourself from me.” She places the case on the floor and takes out a bag, opening it while munching on it and staring at me. “Then, I can forgive you for abandoning me.”
“Those are bad for your esophagus,” I remind her as she masticates with enthusiasm.
“Talk,” she shoves an entire piece of jerky inside her mouth, licking her lips with smug satisfaction.
“Anderson,” I whisper.
“I wasn’t going to fuck him. If I flirted, it was because I wanted to taunt you. Also, I wanted you to tell me you were finally open to falling for someone else. Plus, you have these uptight rules. Don’t sleep with our friends—boyfriends and ex-boyfriends are included,” she mocks me.
Then, she looks from Brynn to me. “It was one fucking time, and I had no idea that Doctor McCheater was married.”
There were several others guys she slept with. McCheater takes most of the list of offenses. It was an ongoing affair. Even after we told her that he was married, she continued fucking him.
“No, I wasn’t afraid you’d sleep with him. It was . . .” I sigh. “The attraction I felt for him was—is strong. I love him. We fell hard and fast for each other.”
Scarlett sighs exasperated, as if she knew already. Maybe she did. We’ve known each other for so long. However, she lets me explain my feelings for Anderson. In fact, she encourages me to tell her everything that transpired between us from the first moment we laid eyes on each other until the end, including the ugly part. All this time I ignored her because admitting my feelings to her felt like a betrayal to Michael.
“I knew him too, and I doubt he would feel that way. Come with me.” Scarlett picks up the box, tilting her head so we can follow her.
Brynn arches a brow as I send her an inquisitive look. We both shrug, better follow her. The ranch sits on acres of land. The house where they live is long and narrow, like a two-story shoebox. The inside though is . . . busy. The living room has so much stuff and it’s so bright. The walls are all burnt orange and reds. The furniture is rustic and dark, sprinkled liberally with vibrant cushions. The walls are more photographs than paint. There are family pictures from the late eighteen hundred to now.
We climb the stairs, heading to Scarlett’s room. I stop by Mike’s, which remains the same as when we started dating. The room is blue with posters of old rock bands. His bed is neatly made with the same old bedding. I walk inside, studying it all. The collectible baseball cards piled where he liked them; his autographed balls guarded in crystal cases and the picture of us at Yankee Stadium hanging on top of the baseball shrine he created.
“You stole that picture,” I call out to Scarlett. “I want it back.”
“Borrowed. I made a copy for Mother. The original is with the pile of things I took from you.”
Mrs. Reynolds is trapped, waiting for him to come back. I understand her. For years, I waited for him to call me and say, “baby, I’m home.” He was unique. I was fortunate enough to have met him, to have been his. We spent four wonderful years together.
“Here.” Scarlett hands me a letter. “Mom finally went through the boxes they sent and found this.”
A yellowish envelope with my name on it.
Shaking, I open it, carefully afraid to damage it or the content.
Babe,
If you’re reading this is because I didn’t make it. There’s no other explanation.
Let me start with an apology. I’m sorry that I didn’t keep my promise, to come back home to you. I’m sorry for leaving you before we became Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, for leaving before we started our lives. We left so much unfinished, so many unfulfilled promises. But I leave a happy man because you trusted me with your heart. I leave thinking of you, treasuring our memories, taking them all with me. For the next eternity, I will have something good to hold onto.
I assure you that you were my last thought before I died, that I’ll be in Heaven watching over you and by your side walking along with you. Carrying you when you feel like the world is too loud, pretentious and overwhelming. I’ll pray every day that you find someone who will understand how your mind works and will crack the combination to your heart. Who loves the amazing woman I fell in love with.
My vision blurs, my heart squeezes tight. I can’t continue reading this, but I know I have to do it. Was this meant to be read now when I was ready or was it a letter that could’ve helped me moved on faster? Wiping away my tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, I continue.
Yes, baby. You’re going to have to let me go and open that beautiful heart of yours again. I trust you to do that and follow my last wish. Fall in love.
This isn’t me asking you to forget us, just that you continue living and forge a future. Please hold onto our memories as a reminder of a great love affair, but keep walking. Keep going, you never know what the future will bring, or what you can lose if you don’t live fully. I know today it hurts. I’m hurting along with you.
To the guy who steals your heart, please tell him to care for you and make you happy.
Please, take care of Scaredy. She’s going to need you. I won’t be there to protect her from Mom’s craziness. If you can, get her out of there for good.
I love you forever,
Michael.
P.S. If you have a boy, name him Michael. That would be spectacular—and I’ll know. I’m watching you.
“Miss Scarlett,” her communicator sounds. “The same men from the other day are here—armed.”
My heart beats fast as Scarlett goes to her dresser, opens her drawer and pulls out the safe where her gun is. Terror is running through me, I know what kind of men visit sometimes. Anderson is off the grid, who can I call to help and how fast can they come?
“I’m on my way,” Scarlett answers. “You two, stay here.”
“Are you insane?” Brynn and I protest, following behind her.
As we walk outside the house, my heart stops. I have never seen a high caliber rifle before, or men wearing big vests with tons of pockets and things inside them. What are they carrying? And this is not a drill or movie prompts. When the two men turn around, my heart stops. I look around because there’s the static again. That crackling in the air that always happens when Anderson is around.
“Fuck, fuck!” I jump at the loud, angry voice of the man with blue eyes and long hair. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I blink twice staring at the guy who sounds like Anderson but doesn’t look like him. He’s pulling a phone. “I need a helicopter, now!” He pauses, watching the ground.
The guy beside him winks at Scarlett who glares at him while pointing a gun at him. What kind of bizarre world did we step into?
He straightens up when he spots Brynn, turning pale and worried just the same way Anderson worried when he saw me.
“Tiago?” I mouth, he puts a finger in his lips.
“You know him?” Scarlett whispers, I nod. “Does he look like that?”
“Shh.” I point at Anderson who is spitting angry words.
“I don’t give a fuck. I need you to transport three females and a dog to safety.” Great, I’m only a female. “Yes, the plan is coming along except for the fucking detail that we have civilians on the ground.” He pauses, his eyes grow wide as Hugo charges toward him.
Anderson gives me a ‘stop your dog’ glare. “No. I had no fucking idea.” He pauses, exhaling as Hugo runs to me and looks around with the same confusion I have. “How do you know, Bradley? Couldn’t you stalk her before I called? Well, then you know this has to be done—now.”
He shoves the phone inside one of the multiple pockets of his vest and stares at Tiago, then at us. “Into the house, now,” he orders closing his eyes briefly.
“How long?” Tiago asks.
“They have ten minutes to gather their things.” Anderson huffs. What is going to happen here? The vein on the side of his neck throbs. Anger, maybe fear. “Have everyone on maximum alert. Call me if you need me, I have to—”
/> “Go. We have the same time we had before you discovered the . . . issue.”
“Why are you here?” he barks at Scarlett first. “Your mother is out of town with her sisters; your father and uncle went to buy the horses—you’re supposed to be with them.”
Scarlett points at Brynn and me. “My besties were coming to see me.”
Anderson closes the door, goes through every window closing the curtains. Once he’s done, he takes off his armor, leaving it on top of the table along with his gun. Then, he walks toward me. Long hair isn’t a good look for him, Scarlett is right. He finally stands in front of me and picks me up with his strong arms, holding me tight.
“What happened to you? Why were you crying, love?”
“Oh, now you know me?” I hug him back with my dear life.
He kisses me hard, transmitting the fear he holds so close to his heart. “Two of my men will drive you to the point where the helicopter is picking you up; from there you’re going to Nebraska, then Seattle. Unless, the pilot feels safe to land the helicopter on the property.”
“No, I’m going to see Mom,” I protest.
“Nebraska, then the Keys. I just need you out of here.” He doesn’t let me go. “Where are your bags?”
“The garage,” Scarlett says climbing down the stairs holding a duffle bag. “I know you think you know shit, but you have no idea how this ranch works. This isn’t the first time you people try to run us out of here.”
She glares at me. “Michael would be disappointed in you.” Scarlett walks toward the basement door. “We have ways to disappear without your help.”
“Stop!” Anderson’s powerful voice booms across the house, making my body vibrate. He grasps me tighter. I have no idea what’s going on outside, but I know he’s worried for me—for us.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she challenges him. “My friends and I are leaving without your help.”
“They’re using the tunnel that runs through the property to store their merchandise.” He kisses the top of my head.
Scarlett freezes, and her eyes widen and she blanches. I have no idea what the tunnel does, but I have never seen her so scared.
Until I Fall Page 24