by S. Nelson
“Fine.” She huffed once more. “Are you stopping by the bar tonight?”
“You know I can’t. It’s too hard staying up late, then getting up so early for work.”
“Okay. But you better come see me this weekend, even if it’s only for an hour.”
“Let’s make it Saturday night, as I’m sure we’re both going to need a stiff drink after dealing with Mom all day.” What I didn’t add was that we would both be emotionally raw as well. A wave of sadness passed over us both at the reminder of our brother’s upcoming birthday.
“I can’t drink during my shift, but there is nothing stopping me from joining you right before I start.” She smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes.
Two hours later, as I lay in bed scrolling through my social media accounts, I came across countless results for Nolan Bennett as well as results for his name in reverse, but none of them were him. Was it possible he wasn’t on social media at all or that I just hadn’t had any luck finding him yet? Then a thought occurred to me. Maybe police officers weren’t allowed to be on Facebook or any of the other sites. But as quickly as the thought formed, I dismissed it. If the President of the United States could be on Twitter, everyone should be allowed to sign up on any platform.
Nestled into my bed, thoughts of the upcoming weekend disappearing into the recesses of my mind, I thought about Nolan, and how my initial irritation with him was a thing of the past. Twice now he’d apologized for his behavior, and twice I refused his offer to go for coffee.
But as my lids drifted closed, all I kept thinking about was how I hoped I saw him again so I could finally accept his proverbial olive branch.
9
Nolan
Sitting at the end of the bar, in my usual spot, I hunkered down and waited for the bartender to approach. Typically, I’d mentally run through my day and try not to focus on much else. My job kept me busy during the hours I put in, giving me the distraction I needed to hustle through another eight to ten hours, sometimes more. But once I clocked out, I fell into an abyss of guilt, and no matter how much I tried to shake off the all-encompassing feeling, it swallowed me whole.
I’d been visiting this particular bar for so long that there wasn’t a need for me to tell any of the bartenders what my drink of choice was, the small inconvenience of speaking eliminated when the same brunette I’d seen countless times before slid a scotch on the rocks toward me, flashing me a quick smile before she turned her attention to the other patrons.
While I sat alone, nursing my first drink, I scoured the customers, a pang of jealousy coursing through me at how easy their lives appeared to be. Even the young couple across the bar who were engaged in a tiff. At least they had each other, and it wasn’t long before the guy said something to calm his woman, her frown morphing into a smile when he leaned in to kiss her.
Will’s name lit up my phone before I allowed myself to fall into one of my internal battles of what I wanted and what I deserved.
I answered on the second ring. “Hello?” At first there was only silence, then my brother returned the greeting, tripping over the single word.
“He… Hello?”
“Why did you say hello like that? You called me.”
“I’m stunned, is all. I usually have to call you repeatedly before you pick up, and even then, it’s probably because you’re sick of your damn phone going off.”
“Not totally untrue.” The hint of amusement in my voice surprised us both.
“You feeling okay?” he asked, a rush of concern weaving into his words, and for a moment, I felt like an asshole for constantly making him feel like he was nothing more than an inconvenience, because he wasn’t. Not at all. He was the only family I had left, and he meant the world to me even though I hardly ever showed it.
“Same as every other day.”
“You don’t sound as put out as usual.”
“Keep talking and that’ll definitely change.” There it was again, the lilt of my tone sounding as foreign to me as it did to him, I was sure.
“Where are you?”
“Out. Having a drink.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah. Who else would I be with?”
Will didn’t know that I visited this bar almost every night of the week before I turned in for the evening. I didn’t get drunk, but the habit comforted me. It was the one thing that had become consistent, something I could count on. Scotch never let me down, unless I drank too much, which hadn’t happened in quite some time. I didn’t consume the amber liquid to completely numb myself anymore. One or two was enough to wipe away the prick of utter awareness I found myself wrapped in every day.
“Tell me where and I’ll come join you.”
I could’ve told him I was leaving here soon, or that I didn’t want the company, or one of many other excuses so he wouldn’t stop by, but instead, I rattled off the name, Murray’s, and told him where he could find the place.
“You ready for another?” The brunette behind the bar stood close as she wiped down the woodgrain, snatching two empty beer bottles and tossing them in a bin behind her. For the first time probably ever, I looked at her, really looked at her. She was attractive, the sort of woman I’d typically look at twice if my mind wasn’t so fucked up. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, elongating her slender neck. Her hazel-colored eyes connected with mine before looking away only to return a few seconds later. Again and again, her gaze bounced from me to the towel in her hand. I made her nervous without meaning to, but there was something about her that seemed so familiar to me, other than me knowing her from working here. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t figure out who. Before she labeled me a creeper from the way I kept staring at her, I answered her question.
“Yeah, I’ll take another.” I swallowed the rest of my drink and slid the empty glass toward her, looking back down at the black screen of my phone.
“Sure thing.” Her tone was breezy, as always. I dared to look at her once more, but her back was to me as she reached for the bottle of Johnnie Walker. A text came through from Will that he was ten minutes away. As I read his message, the bartender slid my glass in front of me. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” I was standoffish, but I still had my manners. Most days, anyway.
I lost myself to memories while I waited for my brother, fed up with the engulfing mental exhaustion my past evoked.
“Hey.” Will startled me, sliding into the seat next to me, bumping my shoulder in the process.
“Hey,” I parroted, raising my glass to my mouth, and taking another sip.
“I didn’t see your car.”
“I took an Uber.”
He looked at me like I had two heads, both of which he didn’t recognize. “You plan on getting drunk?” Worry washed over him, most likely remembering a time when all I did was lose myself to the bottom of every bottle.
“Not at all. But after what happened, the last thing I’ll ever do is get behind the wheel after I’ve been drinking.” He nodded, his understanding evident with the curt gesture.
Will looked around the bar quickly before garnering the attention of the bartender with the raise of his finger. Her mouth curved into a flashy smile as she approached. She’d shown me that same smile when I first started coming here, but now, the grin she gave me was small, pitying even.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” he answered, pointing toward me.
“You got it.”
When she walked away, he leaned into me, turning his head in case the bartender returned unannounced. “Is she why you came here? Because if so, good job.”
“I come here because people know to leave me alone, her included.” I tipped the half-empty glass toward my mouth again, taking a bigger sip than before.
My brother faced forward as his drink was placed in front of him. “Thanks.”
We were once again left alone as she busied herself with a couple at the far end of the bar
. He took a sip, then looked around the small space again. Rich wood cabinets ran the length of the wall, four shelves housing all the liquor bottles. Several tables and chairs were scattered throughout, with a few booths mixed in. There was also a massive two-tiered deck off the back for those who wanted to enjoy the fresh air.
“Did you want to talk about something?” I nudged his shoulder with mine as he continued taking in the scene of the place.
He turned to face me, grinning like he held the biggest secret. “I got the Redwood Bay job.” If he smiled any bigger, the muscles in his face would freeze in place.
“That’s awesome, Will. Congrats, man.” I raised my glass, and he mirrored the gesture, clicking our drinks in celebration.
“Yeah, I’m really excited.”
“I’m sure Molly is too.” I smirked when he raised his brow.
“As a matter of fact, she is. She’s already planning on redecorating the house.”
“Didn’t she just get finished furnishing the place a few months ago? You two haven’t even been in that house for a year yet.”
“What can I say?” Will shrugged and I scoffed. “If it makes her happy, I’ll do it. I love her.”
“And she loves your wallet.” The words were out of my mouth before I could pull them back in. The hurt look on his face prompted me to apologize quickly before things got heated between us. I didn’t understand my brother and Molly’s relationship, but I supposed if he was happy, I should cease with adding my two cents in whenever the mood struck. I threw my hands up in a motion of surrender. “Sorry. That was a dick thing to say.”
“You think?” He leaned back in his seat, scratching the two-day-old scruff on his jaw. “Maybe if you got back out there, had a woman of your own, you’d stop focusing on my relationship.”
“Don’t start.”
“At some point, you have to start moving on, Nolan. This existence you call a life isn’t anything of the sort. You’re just muddling by one day at a time. But what’s the end goal here?”
Ignoring his irritating and repetitive statements, because I’d heard them more times than I cared to count, I focused on his question. “What do you mean, end goal?”
“I mean, what are you striving for at this point? To die alone? To limit your human interactions as much as possible? To be miserable until the day you die? What? What is it?”
Making sure we could continue our conversation, or his integration of me, in private, I released a stream of air from my lungs and downed the rest of my drink, placing a coaster over the top so the bartender knew I was finished.
“I’m tired of time. Every day is a struggle for me, Will. Every. Fucking. Day. The only moments I get any sort of peace from what happened is when I’m sleeping, and even then, I’m plagued with memories. Only in my dreams, my mind twists those memories into fucked-up nightmares. Everything seems so real, but I know it’s not. So, my goal right now is to get through my day. Focus on work and enjoy the two goddamn drinks I have most nights because that’s all the pleasure I’ll ever have again.”
“Because you won’t let go.”
“You’re right. I won’t.” The sternness in my voice deterred whatever he was going to say next. He snapped his mouth shut but glared at me, and I could only imagine the shit he was silently yelling at me. “I know you’re worried about me, but this is my life, and I’ll live what’s left of it however I choose.”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yeah. I’ll back off, but only for now. I’m not giving up on you, even though you have.”
After a much-needed change of subject, he told me all about his plans for the new resort, and although it sounded like quite the undertaking, I was happy for my brother. As happy as I could be while being miserable myself.
So many times I wished I could change the decision I made that fateful night. I’d sell my soul to reverse what happened, but that’s not how life worked. Now I had to live with the remorse and sorrow weighing me down like the heaviest of anchors. But I supposed it was the punishment I deserved for being selfish.
10
Quinn
“Are you ready for this?” my sister asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder after speaking, the worry behind her eyes most likely mirroring mine. As I returned her stare, I distracted myself from the reason we were here and focused on our similarities.
We’d often been told the resemblance between us was uncanny. Our hair color was the same chocolate brown, our strands reaching to the middle of our backs and slightly wavy. Hazel-colored eyes were a trait we inherited from our mom, and while mine were almond-shaped, Avery’s were round and slightly too large for her face. She often complained about them, but I thought they were gorgeous. We were also the same height at five foot six with similar builds, although I told her she could have some of my ass if I could have one of her cup sizes.
“No, but we don’t have a choice.” Standing on our mother’s porch, we shared a burst of anxiety between us.
Today was an extremely difficult day, for not only our parents, but for us as well. Celebrating Jimmy’s birthday was hard enough after he passed, but today would’ve been his thirtieth. I remembered many conversations when we were younger, making plans for when he turned the big three-o, since he would obviously reach that age before Avery or me, or so we thought. We assumed getting older meant easier lives, as being a teenager wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. But someone who was thirty certainly had their life figured out for sure.
Circling my fingers around the handle, I twisted and opened the front door, Avery following five paces behind me.
“Mom!” I shouted, heading through the hallway and toward the living room. “Are you here?” I asked a question I already knew the answer to because I’d spoken with her earlier. She was the one who told us what time to come over.
“She hasn’t changed a thing about this place since we left.” Avery slid her fingers down the ivory and blue curtains in the living room, then ran her hand over the couch our parents purchased at least ten years ago.
“I think she thinks if she changes anything, it’s like letting go of him or something.”
“I bet his room is still the same too.”
“I have no doubt.”
I moved to the kitchen, discovering she wasn’t in there either. Cringing at the awful green color on the walls, I smiled when I approached the refrigerator. There were at least five photos of all of us displayed on the front of the appliance, every single one of them with Jimmy. Selecting one in particular, I moved the magnet holding the picture in place and held it in my hands, running my fingertip over his smiling face. My heart ached every day, but staring into his eyes, knowing I’d never hug him or laugh with him or even argue with him, as siblings often did, the pang in my chest bloomed tenfold.
“There you are. I thought I heard you shouting for me.” I looked up to see our mother standing at the threshold of the kitchen, looking from me to the picture I held. Her short auburn hair was pulled back off her face, her prominent cheekbones a trait I wished she’d passed on to me. Even from the distance separating us, I could see the pain in her eyes. I couldn’t begin to imagine the level of devastation she suffered, losing a child.
Several seconds passed before she finally approached, throwing her arms around me, and pulling me in for an embrace so tight I could barely breathe. But the brief restriction of air made me smile. She loved me and Avery with all her heart, and although a part of her died the night Jimmy did, she always made sure to tell us how she felt about us. And there were never any shortages of hugs.
When we parted, I squeezed her hand. “How are you holding up?”
“Some moments I think I’m doing okay, then just like that… I’m not.” Her shoulders bounced, her lips tightening into a thin line.
“I know what you mean.”
She looked behind her before turning back toward me. “Where’s your sister?” Her eyes widened. “Did she not come with you?”
&nbs
p; “She’s here. Probably still in the living room.”
“Okay. Good.” She moved around me and opened the refrigerator door, pulling out a veggie tray and dip. Then she checked on the dish cooking in the oven. Parmesan chicken casserole. Jimmy’s favorite meal.
“That smells wonderful, Mom.” I leaned over her to take a peek and to inhale another tantalizing whiff, my stomach rumbling because I’d been saving my appetite. Avery and I were both shocked we weren’t obese kids when we lived here—her cooking was that addictive. Then again, she kicked us out of the house a lot so we didn’t plant ourselves in front of the television. “Fresh air does a body good,” she’d always say. My upbringing was one of the reasons I loved to be outdoors as much as possible, although these days I worked so much I barely had any time to do anything other than eat dinner and crash into my bed, praying for a decent night’s sleep.
“It was Jimmy’s favorite.” She said the same thing every time she made the dish, even though we were all aware. I supposed uttering the words gave her some sense of peace, possibly still feeling connected to him even though he was gone. “We’ll eat in ten minutes.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
“No. The table is already set. Go and sit down. I’ll call you and your sister when it’s ready.”
I kissed her cheek, my lips lingering a few seconds longer. “Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetie.”
Meandering down the hallway back toward the living room, I glanced at the numerous frames placed strategically on the walls, all the photos of us during the happier times. Stopping in front of the one of us at the beach, I smiled at the memory. I was fourteen, my brother eighteen. I’d hopped on his back, and instead of tossing me off like he sometimes did, waiting until he was waist-deep in the ocean, he let me hang on. Our smiles were mirror images of each other, stretched wide from ear to ear. He liked to wear his hair down to his shoulders, the color one shade lighter than mine and Avery’s. He had it pulled back off his face in the picture, highlighting his green eyes and strong jawline. Jimmy was a handsome boy, and in case I ever forgot, all my friends never failed to remind me.