Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2

by S. R. Grey

  Another beat, and he rolls me onto my back, his body hovering above mine. Suddenly, he pulls the sheet over us to create a cocoon, allowing light the day has birthed to filter in, tingeing our bare skin with a golden glow.

  I giggle and he smiles.

  We never dressed last night, we were too busy loving. So when Chase lowers his body, all I feel is his warm skin pressed to mine. My breathing picks up, and so does his. I’m so ready for what he has to give me that I spread my legs for him. And he’s in me in an instant, moving, thrusting, and circling his hips.

  This is how we start the morning—engaged, in more ways than one, and so very much in love.

  Later, at work, things are slow. I have time to keep reliving, over and over in my head, how Chase knelt down before me and asked me to marry him. It sure wasn’t what I expected or how I thought something like that might go, but even so, it was beautiful and felt right.

  The sincerity and pure emotion in Chase’s eyes as he was gazing up at me touched my soul. I knew right then and there that his impromptu proposal was perfect in its imperfection.

  Imperfectly perfect, just like us.

  Before we fell asleep, we discussed whether or not we should share the news of our engagement. But Chase insists he wants to wait until he can buy me a ring and propose once again, as he so eloquently put it, “in the right fucking way.” He says then it will be completely “official.”

  Silly man. He has no idea that last night surpassed anything I’d ever dreamed of. Sincerity and truth mean more than showy formalities. However, I can wait to tell the world if Chase wants me to. I will keep our news quiet. I kind of like the idea, for now, of keeping our engagement our own little special secret.

  And then there’s the other topic we discussed—having a baby. Wow, just wow.

  The thought of having Chase’s baby fills me with an almost indescribable joy, a deep, profound feminine sort of satisfaction. But there’s fear there, too. And doubt in myself. I don’t know if I’m quite ready to become someone’s mother. Not that I don’t want to do it now, but, damn, what a huge role to undertake.

  What if I’m no good at it? What if I fail at motherhood? I sure feel like I failed in the much less significant role of big sister.

  It wasn’t your fault, Kay. Chase’s words echo through my mind, urging me to cast away my doubt. But despite how far I’ve come in accepting that I am not to blame for Sarah’s death, a part of me will always feel some degree of guilt. That is the part that makes me hesitate to fully embrace the idea of having a child.

  Well, I have time, I remind myself as I pull up the church activities calendar on the computer.

  I count back the weeks to June. Then I count forward. Just as I thought, and same as I told Chase last night, I’m not due for another Depo shot until late September. That gives me about six more weeks of birth control protection before any decisions have to be made.

  Since I have the activities calendar open, I work on it for a while, updating and adding events. I get lost in what I’m doing until a call comes in, a call from Missy’s mom. She starts the conversation by informing me that Missy is “physically” well enough to be released from the hospital tomorrow morning.

  “Oh, that’s great news,” I say.

  Since Mrs. Metzger chose the word “physically” to describe Missy’s wellness, I cautiously ask, “How’s Missy doing, like, psychologically.”

  Mrs. Metzger clears her throat. “Aw, honey, it’s going to take some time. But Missy will be okay. My daughter is a strong young woman.”

  Strong or not, she could probably use a friend, I think.

  “Would it be okay if I stop by to see her tomorrow after work?”

  Missy’s mom sighs heavily. “Oh, I don’t know, sweetie. Another day might be better. Missy told me this morning that she’s not quite ready to see anyone just yet.”

  My heart aches for Missy and the pain she’s feeling. “Okay, I understand. Another day, then.”

  “Personally, Kay,” Missy’s mom begins after a brief pause, “I think Missy should be around people. She needs to get back to doing the things she likes to do.”

  The whole time she’s speaking, Mrs. Metzger’s voice is low and conspiratorial, like maybe she and I can somehow keep Missy busy and that will miraculously lessen the pain of her loss.

  I doubt anything but time will heal Missy’s emotional wounds, but I don’t say a thing.

  Mrs. Metzger is still talking, saying, “Just give her a few more days, honey. And then I bet she’ll be calling you and wanting to get together and go do whatever it is you girls like to do.”

  I’m not so sure about that, but I pretend to agree.

  After my call with Mrs. Metzger ends, it’s back to work for me. Chase is tied up with a project in the school. He tells me this when he texts me to say that he’s skipping lunch. I’m not very hungry, so I work through lunch, too.

  Then, around three o’clock, I receive another text from Chase.

  Just finished up. Heading back to the house early. See you there. Love you, bb.

  I know Chase is trying to spend as much time with his brother as he can before he leaves on Tuesday, so I text back: Enjoy your time with Will. Should I pick something up for dinner on my way home?

  Pizza?

  Sure, I’ll stop at Pizza House after work.

  That works. Chase texts back.

  A little while later, when I’m in my car after work, I call the restaurant to place the order. It’s stupid, I know, but I’m relieved when someone other than Nick answers the phone. I guess I’m still coming to grips with the fact he was the father of Missy’s baby. Like I told Chase, it doesn’t bother me in any way, but Missy had me so convinced that Tony was the dad that when I learned Nick was the real father it kind of threw me for a loop. And I guess I’m still reeling.

  When I return to the house, the pizza is a hit, as it always seems to be. Dinner is pleasant, with the three of us sitting around the kitchen table and making small talk. Will, I take note, is nothing but cheery. It’s like the events of yesterday never even happened.

  After dinner, I ask Chase in private if Will has said anything about Cassie—or Paul.

  Chase shakes his head. “Nope, not a thing.”

  Will’s overly happy demeanor and lack of discussion regarding the Cassie situation has me worried.

  Over the next few days, I watch Will closely, waiting for him to either divulge something or have another meltdown. But every minute, every second of every day, Will behaves perfectly. There’s no running off, no drug use, and no more contact with Jared, all of which are choices Will makes without any prompting from his brother.

  Since Will remains mum on the subject of Cassie, I decide to reach out to Will’s girlfriend in hopes of finding what, if anything, has been happening with Paul. Has he been picked up by the police? Has he stopped bothering Cassie? How is she handling everything? These are just a few of the things I’d like to know.

  So, throughout the weekend and into Monday, I leave a slew of messages. Cassie ignores me, until, on Tuesday, out of the blue, I finally hear back from her via a text.

  Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you sooner, Kay. But don’t worry. Everything’s fine. I can’t wait to see Will in two more days. Thursday can’t get here soon enough, ya know?

  The message arrives late in the afternoon, just as I’m putting dinner on the table. I’ve prepared a big send-off meal for Will, since he and Chase have to leave for the bus station in a couple of hours. Will’s bus leaves tonight, and as Cassie mentioned in her text, he’s due to arrive in Vegas sometime Thursday.

  Since tonight’s dinner is special, we eat in the dining room. When Will is finished eating, he excuses himself from the big oak table.

  “I have a few more things to pack,” he explains. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and stands.

  My eyes slide to Chase when Will walks out of the room. “Guess he’s leaving the cleaning part to us,” I say in a teasing tone.
/>   Chase laughs. “Looks that way, babe, looks that way.” He starts to gather the dishes on the table, and adds, “Might as well get started now.”

  Chase and I clear the table and take everything into the kitchen. He washes the dishes while I dry. At one point, I rest my hip against the sink and wait for him to finish washing a big serving platter. Chase runs the water in the right side of the sink and rinses suds off the platter.

  “I hope everything is okay,” I say, sighing.

  “What?” He glances my way. “Do you mean with Will?”

  “Yeah.”

  Holding out the dripping-wet platter, Chase says, “I asked Will last night what’s going on back in Vegas, and he said everything is under control.”

  “Everything is under control?” I echo as I take the plate from Chase.

  “Yep, those were his exact words.”

  After a beat, and a swipe of the dish towel across the serving platter, I wonder out loud, “What does that mean, exactly?”

  Chase shrugs. “I don’t know. But Will’s been great these past few days. Maybe that means Paul quit harassing Cassie. I’m thinking the cops must’ve picked Paul up on that restraining order violation.”

  I don’t feel so certain, so I say, “It seems like Will would mention that, though.”

  “Not necessarily,” Chase replies. “He is a guy, and we don’t always discuss everything.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” I interject, eyeing him meaningfully.

  “Anyway…” Chase looks away. “Why else would Will remain so calm? You have to admit he’s been in an exceptionally good mood lately.”

  Will has been in a great mood the past few days, or so he wants us to believe. That’s what I suspect. But my question is, why would he do that? What could Chase’s brother be hiding? I know Chase wants so badly to believe the situation with Cassie and her stepdad has been resolved, but I am not so sure. Will’s behavior has been almost too perfect, orchestrated in a way.

  In any case, I don’t want to prolong the conversation and ruin Chase’s last evening with his brother.

  We finish up with the dishes, and Chase leans against the side of the sink. He asks me, “Are you sure you don’t want to tag along to the bus station.”

  “No”—I stand on my tiptoes, lean toward him, and place a kiss on his cheek—“you should spend these last couple of hours with your brother, just the two of you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, you two go on without me. I’ll say good-bye to Will before he leaves.”

  An hour later, I am doing exactly that, out on the front porch. Will has his duffel bag slung over one shoulder and holds the handle of a small suitcase in his hand.

  When he sets the suitcase on the porch, Chase grabs it up. “You sure this is everything?” he asks Will.

  “Yeah, I made sure I packed everything,” Will replies.

  “I’ll meet you at the truck, then, okay?” Chase says. “Take a minute and say good-bye to Kay.”

  Chase heads down the porch steps, and I turn to Will.

  “Have a safe trip back,” I say as I give him a big hug. “I’m going to miss having you around.”

  It’s true. I am going to miss Will. He’s been some trouble, yeah, but his heart is good, just like his brother’s.

  Will hugs me back, holding on to me tightly. “I’m so glad I met you, Kay,” he says. “I’m sorry I was an ass at times. But just know I like you. You’re perfect for my brother, in so many ways, and I’m glad he found you. You’re good for him”—his voice cracks—“and he needs you.”

  This outpouring of emotion is uncharacteristic of Will, especially on the heels of how calm he’s been the past few days.

  I pull back and frown. “Will, is something wrong?”

  He rocks back on his heels. “Nah, I guess leaving Ohio is just hitting me more than I thought it would.”

  “But I thought you couldn’t wait to go back to Vegas,” I softly inquire.

  Will’s eyes dart away, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, I do want to go back. I mean, it’s just best that I do.”

  Huh?

  When my brow furrows, Will quickly adds, “I mean, with school starting soon and everything.”

  “School doesn’t start for three more weeks, Will.”

  He laughs, but it’s a hollow sound. “Gotta prepare, though, right?”

  Nodding, I say hesitantly, “I guess so.”

  Will hoists his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. “I better get going.”

  “You can come back to Harmony Creek anytime, you know that, right? Maybe you can even fly out over Christmas break.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Will replies, his voice heavy and sad. “We’ll see.”

  He sounds so final, his tone completely lacking hope. I want to ask him what’s really going on here, since something is clearly not right, but just as I open my mouth to do so, Chase calls out from the truck.

  “Come on, little bro, we’re gonna be late.”

  Will shoots me a sad smile fraught with finality. And then he walks away.

  As I watch the Gartner brothers drive away, I have a sense of dread that something is terribly wrong.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chase

  Will’s departure from Ohio turns out to be uneventful. Sad as fuck, yes, but there’s no over-the-top drama or anything. Though, as I lie awake the morning following his departure, I reconsider. Maybe I’m missing something. After all, my brother’s behavior at the bus station has kept me from sleeping soundly.

  I can’t pinpoint exactly what’s wrong, though. I mean, Will was very loving before he boarded the bus. In fact, he was the one who initiated a good-bye hug. God knows that shit sure shocked me. Usually, when it comes to my relationship with my brother, I’m the overly emotional sap.

  Not last night, though. Last night, it was Will throwing his arms around me, Will who didn’t want to let go.

  “You sure you want to go back early?” I jokingly quipped.

  I felt him swallow hard, and when he finally pulled back, he wiped at moist eyes.

  “Yeah, bro,” he said on a sigh chock full of resignation, “I have to.”

  Something felt off, and I gripped his shoulder. “Hey, talk to me.”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing, Chase.”

  And then he walked away.

  “Will,” I called out. When he turned around, only a few feet away, I smiled and said, “I love you, little bro. Have a safe trip back to Vegas.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. Turning away once again, he resumed walking toward the line of people boarding the bus. “Being a big brother till the end, I see.”

  “You know it,” I retorted.

  And then I watched as my little brother boarded the bus with the big nevada placard in the corner of the windshield.

  Nevada’s so fucking far from Ohio; I hate it. Only twelve hours have elapsed since Will left, but I miss him already.

  Feeling bereaved, I snuggle as close as I can to Kay, who is fast-asleep next to me.

  The sun is just hitting the horizon, and like always, it bathes the bedroom in a hazy, golden glow. I glance down at Kay. My love is gorgeous in this light, all wrapped up in the crisp, new dark-blue sheets she insisted on putting on my bed. Her pale skin looks dewy and translucent, a play of the combination of bright morning light and the dark hue of the sheets.

  I watch her sleep for a few more minutes, but then force myself to get out of bed before she wakes up and thinks I’m a freak for staring at her so intently. Chuckling at how crazy in love I am with this woman, I throw on a pair of gray sweatpants I find on the floor and step out into the hall.

  With a slight shiver—it’s cooler in the hall than in the bedroom—I start toward the stairs, the hardwood floor creaking beneath my bare feet. I have every intention of going downstairs and making breakfast, but when I reach the room where Will was staying, I stop.

  The door is closed, just like it would be if my
brother were here. But he’s not, of course. Still, I close my eyes and pretend for a minute that he’s sleeping on the other side.

  Unfortunately, I can’t fool myself, as I swear I feel the emptiness of my brother’s absence.

  “Enough of this shit,” I murmur. I turn the knob and push open the stupid fucking door.

  Why is Will’s departure weighing on me like this? It’s not like I’ll never see him again.

  I step into the room, like I may find an answer in here, and the first thing that hits me is how much it smells like Will in here. Even with my kid brother’s stuff gone, the whole room still smells of him. Nothing gross, mostly just a clean scent. Well, maybe there’s a touch of sweaty teenage boy in there somewhere. But it’s all Will, and fuck, it reminds me that I sure do love that kid.

  Rolling my eyes at myself, I shake my head and turn to leave. But just as I spin on my heels, something on the nightstand catches my eye.

  It’s a folded piece of paper on an otherwise empty piece of furniture. Even the lamp that normally rests atop the nightstand has been moved to the floor. It’s almost like Will was making sure the folded piece of paper wouldn’t be missed.

  “What the hell?” I mutter. Has Will left me some kind of note?

  Before I walk over to the nightstand, I notice that the folded piece of paper looks kind of old. It has a yellowed, slightly tattered appearance.

  And that makes me think: No fucking way, no way is that the tree house sketch. No way would my brother leave his hope behind.

  But sure enough, when I race over to the nightstand and snatch up the piece of paper, unfold it, my initial fear is confirmed—Will has left behind the sketch I drew him all those years ago.

  “Why would you leave it here, buddy?” I whisper.

  Peering down at the sketch I drew so long ago, I find there are no answers in the lines, curves, or colors of the drawing. However, there is a Post-it note stuck to the foliage of the tree. It’s from Will—to me.

  I peel away the note…

  Chase, my brother and the one person in this world who I have never doubted cares for me. Yeah, I fought that knowledge for so long (as you are all too well aware), but I’m tired of fighting. I love you, bro. I always fucking have.