by S. M. West
“But…” Griff says. He also likes to be Mikey, if he gets the chance to claim him first. Tripp yanks his arm and Griff shuts his mouth.
“Fine, you’re Leonardo. Come on.” I tug her hand.
We enter the bar, and it’s loud, warm, and packed. In addition to friends and family, patrons and people from the neighborhood have gathered to pay their respects to Adam Wolfe and Ciaran and Maeve Hart. Our families co-own the bar, The Waters, which has been in this neighborhood for over thirty years.
It’s not every day there’s a violent drive-by that guns down three of their own. While everyone talks in hushed tones about what happened, I’ve figured out some by listening to Aunt Siobhan and the police.
A botched hit, that’s what they said. Their murders make no sense. At first, all I could wonder was who would want to kill my parents or Uncle Adam, and most importantly, why. Two Irish bar owners and a mother? From what I’ve gathered, whoever did this got the wrong bar and killed the wrong people.
A restless anger courses through me at their deaths being some stupid mistake. It infuriates me, and my rage climbs up my throat. These dark, crazy emotions scare me. They’re new to me, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to control them.
“There you are! Thank goodness.” Aunt Siobhan hugs us. Her smile is tender, but there’s no sparkle in her eyes. “Where were you? You’re all soaked.”
“We’re fine,” Ry says.
“You’re wet,” she chides, holding Carys’s chin with one hand and running her fingers through her daughter’s damp, long hair.
“Ma, it’s not that bad. It’s just my coat,” Carys says.
“And your hair.” Carys casts her eyes downward and her mother gives up. “Fine. Would you all just do a woman a favor and eat something?”
Looking to Ry and me for support, we quickly agree and she smiles again, bigger and brighter this time, leading us to the table with food.
It’s hard to miss what happened. The signs of the shooting are visible everywhere. Five days ago, this place was a killing field, and until yesterday, it was still a crime scene.
Wide, deep gashes from flying bullets cover every surface like ugly scars, a minefield of violence. My stomach twists at how it no longer feels safe here. I only feel loss and fear. Death is here. At the thought, a shiver runs down my spine.
After eating and our Ninja Turtles game, the other guys play video games. Carys sits quietly in the corner, whereas I fidget. Peering out the window, I see the rain has stopped. I tug on her arm and we slip out of the room.
“Want to go for a bike ride?” Her eyes light up as she nods. “Go change and meet me out back.”
In less than ten minutes, we’re zipping down the streets on our bikes. I hang back a bit to keep an eye on her, and I watch her long, dark locks fly freely behind her, like a trail of ribbons in the wind.
§
Carys ~ 8 years old
WHEN WE LEAVE, THE place is still crowded, but Ma asks the bar’s assistant-manager to close. Once we are home, she lets us sleep in her bed; tucking us in, and kissing us good night.
Our bike ride was fun and made me happy, or maybe it was Evan. Either way, it helped get rid of my sadness, if only for a while.
Evan is kind and caring, always doing things like that, always including me. We’re lucky no one noticed we were gone—we came back to the boys still playing video games, like we never left.
“Can we read for a bit?” I whisper to the boys, pulling out a flashlight and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
Ry groans, but Evan elbows him to shut him up. Evan takes the book and begins to read out loud, or more like whisper, while my brother complains. Evan and I enjoy reading together. Ry usually leaves; his preference is video games.
We just finished The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and while I wanted to read it again the minute we finished, simply loving Huck and Tom, he talked me into The Chronicles of Narnia, and I’m so glad he did. We read for a bit and before long, our lids grow heavy and sleep easily takes us.
I wake to Ma’s arms wrapped around me. Peering up, I see her pretty face is troubled, with the corners of her mouth down and tight creases along her forehead. Her sleep is sad. I snuggle deeper into her arms, hoping my cuddle will help her. Breathing in her sweet lavender scent always puts a smile on my face.
Sucking in a breath, I freeze. I smell Pops on her, clean and fresh, like the forest. She’s wearing his Star Wars shirt. A small sob escapes my mouth, surprising me. I pinch my lips together, wanting to prevent the tears welling in my eyes from falling. I don’t want to wake her. She’ll only hide her sadness and want to take care of me. Who’s going to take care of her?
The bed dips behind me as the boys leave. I want to join them, but don’t want to leave Ma. I won’t leave her alone.
Not too long after, she wakes and gets right to work making breakfast and getting us dressed. Today’s another big day. Our lawyer and the social worker are coming to talk about Evan. Ma said something about guardianship. I don’t really know what it means. All I know is that Evan must stay with us.
We sit quietly in the living room while Ma and Mr. Bell, our lawyer, speak with Ms. Sanders, the social worker. They talk for a long time, Ma’s smiles diminishing the more they talk. I don’t understand, but I don’t like the sounds of ward of the state or until an official guardian can be appointed.
Evan stares into his lap. Gone is the fun boy I love spending time with. I lift his clammy hand into my own lap and our eyes meet. He’s lost, maybe scared. Ry bumps my shoulder, his eyes on Evan. We’re all scared and unsure.
Finally, the adults come to us, all eyes on Evan.
“Evan, it’s time for us to go.” The social worker stands before him.
Ry and I shout, “What? He’s not going anywhere!”
“Wait a minute,” Ma says.
She slips by the social worker, hugging Evan before kneeling in front of him. Ry and I stand on either side of him like guards, protecting him from this woman.
“Evan, dear, you have to go with Ms. Sanders, just for a bit. Mr. Bell has work to do before you can live with us. He’s going to work real fast and get you home to us as soon as possible.” Her eyes are watery.
She’s fighting her tears, and so am I. I’m not a baby. I won’t cry. I hate it when I can’t stop the tears. My tummy hurts, like when I’ve been on a wild ride at the fair, and I’m all twinges and knots on the inside. Again, I’m torn as I rub Ma’s back, trying to be brave and strong, even though I want to cry. Evan barely nods.
“No way,” Ry shouts. “He belongs with us. He’s my brother!” He wraps his arms tightly around his best friend. Evan’s face crumples, but somehow, he stops himself.
“Rylan.” Ma’s voice is stern but warm. “He’s our family. He’s coming back.” She’s trying to convince herself as much as us. “He has to go for now, but he’ll be back soon. You’ll still see him every day at school.”
“This is bullshit!”
Gasping, my hand covers my mouth. Ry just said a bad word. If Ma’s shocked, she doesn’t show it.
“Young man, say goodbye to Evan and go to your room right now.”
Ry nods, with one last hug for Evan. His eyes meet mine before darting away, trying to hide his tears. Without a word, he leaves with his head hung low. He’s in big trouble, but I’m proud of him for sticking up for Evan.
“Evan, we’ll have you back real soon. I can’t promise when, but I can promise you’ll be back for good. You’re our family.” Ma kisses his forehead.
“Come then.” Ms. Sanders takes his hand.
His leaving hurts my heart. I never knew there was such a thing as a broken heart until my father’s death, but now, my chest aches, like someone’s twisting and squeezing everything inside, and breathing is hard to do.
“No!” I shout, my chin wobbling. “He can’t go. He’ll be alone. He can’t, I need him,” I wail, grabbing at him as the woman pulls on his hand. Her bitter eyes make me want to
shrink back from her in fear. I don’t like her.
“Carys, honey, he needs to go. Please say goodbye.” Ma’s voice wavers, lips quivering.
Seeing my mother hurting stops my fight. I want to stop this woman from taking Evan, but I don’t want to hurt Ma. She needs me, too.
I’m stuck between two of the people I love the most. I want to yell and scream for Evan, but staying silent would be easier on Ma. I have to believe she’ll do everything she can to get Evan back, but I don’t want him to go. Without him, I won’t be the same. I might die.
“Sweetness.” Evan’s voice breaks through my muddled thoughts. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
“Evan, I’m with you. I’ll follow you anywhere, even into the dark.”
He first said those words to me when I was wedged between fences during a game of tag. While Ry ran to get help, his words calmed me and made me feel safe when I was scared. I only hope I’m doing that for him right now.
His arms wrap me in a warm, long hug and his lips lightly graze my forehead. All too soon, he breaks away and heads for the door, never looking back.
Running in the opposite direction, I tumble upstairs to my room and fling myself onto my bed. Sobbing into my pillow, the blues take over—my fears, anger, loss, and sadness, all my tears.
I miss my pops. I’ll never see him again. I miss Uncle Ciaran and Aunt Maeve, and most of all, my heart hurts for Evan. We told him he’d never be alone, that he would be with us, but now, he’s more alone than he was yesterday.
Now
Carys
MUSIC’S BLARING WHEN I arrive home. Dammit—Greg’s here. It’s my place that I rent a few blocks from the bar. I could live at home with Ma, above the bar, but I need my own space.
I used to live with Evan in his beautiful townhouse. When he left, he gave it to me, but I didn’t want it. There were too many memories, and it also felt all kinds of wrong.
Even so, I was stuck with it because I had no way to give it back. He was gone. Feeling obligated to take care of it, I rented it out for two years, but as we entered the third year of his disappearance, I couldn’t keep it up. Having to go there and maintain the place was like a wound that wouldn’t heal.
Each visit picked at the scab, tearing away at my fortitude and opening me up to all the love and disappointment. So, I locked it up. I still pay the few bills that come in with the money he left, but it just sits there, fading away… kind of like our love did, like we did.
Greg, my boyfriend of under a year, owns a place in Brooklyn but has a key to my place. Lately, he’s been crashing here a lot. He wants to move in. Actually, he’d prefer I move to Brooklyn, but that’s not going to happen.
I’ve been trying to end our relationship. No matter how many times I’ve said it isn’t working, he doesn’t leave. I’ll admit, I’ve been a coward, not wanting to deal with how ugly this could get, if I put my foot down. Instead, I’ve been burying my head in the sand and coasting.
“Hey, babe.” Greg enters the room as I collapse on the couch; he kisses my forehead before sitting beside me. “I thought you were working tonight.”
I’m surprised he’s here. Being a lawyer and the new guy at the firm, he logs crazy hours. Usually, if he’s staying at my place, an early night for him is eleven o’clock.
“Hey.” I lean my head against the back of the couch and close my eyes. It’s not his fault, but I can’t look at him. “I was, but I have a headache.”
It’s a lie, but I can’t tell him what happened, that my ache is much bigger and irreparable. He knows about Evan, all of it gathered from my best friend, Lauren, and my family, because I refuse to talk about him. Without me saying a word, he knows Evan was the love of my life and he left me.
“Did anything exciting happen tonight?” His eyes search mine expectantly, almost as if he knows, but there’s no way that’s possible.
“Nope.”
I can’t tell him Evan’s back. I can’t tell him that I came alive tonight for the first time in years because the man who took my heart with him is back.
He kisses my temple and begins to massage my scalp. “Let me see if I can help.”
My stomach churns at his considerate gesture. I don’t deserve this. Greg’s a good guy, not only because he does things like this, tries to ease my nonexistent headache, but because he’s kind and patient, even though he knows I’m not all in.
We met at a party and by the end of the night, he’d asked me out. I said yes, although my inclination was to decline. I was determined to get over Evan, and every attempt until that point had failed miserably.
From our first date, I was honest. I didn’t give details, but told him I was not ready for a relationship. It’s like I never said anything because from day one, he’s been fully invested. I tried to end things as early as three months into our relationship and as recently as two months ago, but he resists. He tells me it’s okay, no pressure. He’ll wait, I’m worth it.
I’m a shit.
“Mmm, that feels good, but you don’t have to. I’m going to take a hot shower and go to bed. Why aren’t you working?”
“I was, and I’ve got to go back. I came by to pick up my dry cleaning because I’m running low on clean suits at the office, and I got sidetracked by your pad thai.”
Opening my eyes, I smile. He has a weakness for my pad thai. His brown eyes are warm, as they always are when directed at me, and his dirty blond hair is in disarray. He has this cute but incessant habit of running his hands through his hair, which usually means he has perpetual bedhead.
“Good, it was for you.” I pat his knee as I stand.
Grabbing me around the waist, he pulls me into his lap. With his hands on me, I instantly and regretfully compare the charged way I reacted to Evan earlier to the absence of that sensation now. Greg’s touch is comforting, not electric.
He places his lips on me, kissing as his hands roam my body. At first, I try to silence my inner turmoil at how I can’t do this right now. I try to be in the moment, be with him, but it feels wrong. It feels like I’ve cheated on him, even though I haven’t.
My body and heart are true and loyal to Evan Hart. Despite my anger and pain, I still want him. I have no intention of acting on it, ever, but I need time to adjust to his return.
Pulling away, I give the lamest but age-old excuse: “Babe, I’ve got a headache.”
“Sorry. Yeah, I should get back to work. If we get started, I’m not going to want to leave.” Smiling, he stands and gently kisses my forehead. “Get some rest and I hope you feel better tomorrow. I’ll be back later, but I’ll probably be gone again before you wake up.”
“Okay. Don’t stay too late,” I say, although that’s exactly what he’ll do.
After my shower, I crawl into bed at barely eight o’clock in the evening. I need this day to be over. With the curtains open, I curl on my side and stare out the window, not fixed on or thinking of anything in particular. My vision blurs as I shut out my competing emotions. Only when a tear slides off the tip of my nose am I forced to face my conflict.
They’re tears of joy and sorrow. I’m thrilled that he’s alive, back and safe, but I’m also desolate because he’s unattainable. As I wipe my tears, the cold, harsh truth fires a shiver through me. It’s something I’m just going to have to live with but never act on. From my heart’s first beat, it’s belonged to Evan Hart, and as time has passed, the beat has only gotten stronger, deeper, louder.
When he went away, I struggled to exist, to breathe. Today, his presence awakened me with my blood rocketing through my veins and my insides uncomfortably heating. My love for him is as strong as ever, as limitless as the sky, but I swear, I’m going to remain firmly planted on the ground.
§
Evan
DINNER WITH MA WAS great. I’d finally come home, and the woman loved me like her own. She only reinforced that tonight when she told me she never gave up on me. No matter how little I told her, she didn’t press for information or details I
wasn’t prepared to give. She was satisfied and focused on me being back, not what had happened.
I was prepared to talk about Carys, to explain why I’d left her daughter, but she didn’t bring it up. I’m no fool—she’ll ask eventually—but for now, she was content with having me home.
There were a few questions that edged into the no-go zone, and I did my best to dodge them without lying. I had to figure out how to tell them the truth, even though I was still grappling with what I’d learned about my father.
He was my idol. I could have forgiven his shortcomings, even those some might consider unforgivable. Except, he was a cheater. Destroying my image of him as a faithful, loving husband, and father was unforgivable.
The anxiety of whether she would ask, and the shame of what had happened, began to sicken me. Unable to calm my riotous insides, riddled with guilt, I left. I will tell her the truth, and soon, but I didn’t want to ruin our reunion with the dirty truth.
§
I sense him the minute I leave The Waters, the bar his mother and sister own. The place is named after Thomas Moore’s The Meeting of the Waters; like the sentiment of the poem, it’s meant to be a place of love and friendship.
While my parents owned half of the bar, I gave it to Carys years ago. Running the bar was always her dream. She wanted to follow in her dad’s footsteps. Besides, she’s the one with the business degree, and she’s done a great job at bringing the old Irish bar into the twenty-first century.
He’s still on me and I wonder if I should just confront him right now? But I’m not ready to face him. In my rush to see Carys, I didn’t think about how I’d explain where I’d been and what I’d been doing.
Originally, I wanted to give them enough of the story to buy time—time for them to get over how I’d left, and to once again accept me as part of their lives.
But I hadn’t determined how best to keep the ugly truth a secret for a bit longer without lying to them, and now he’s on my heels. I had every intention of going to him next, but fuck, on my terms.
As I enter my small apartment, he pushes on my back and barrels in after me.