As Tears Go By

by Lydia Michaels

  Bracing himself for either the most painful goodbye of his life or the happiest kickoff to his future, he opened the door. Wrong on both counts. “Luke?”

  “Hey.”

  Disappointment flooded him, but he hid his emotions well. “What are you doing here?”

  “Mum told us about your lady. I’m sorry, Bray.”

  He sighed. “Are you alone?”

  “Tristan and Kelly are parking the truck. We came to give you a hand and maybe get you drunk, if necessary.”

  Chuckling, he reached out and pulled his brother into a smacking hug. “Thanks.”

  “We missed you at Christmas.” Luke pressed into the apartment after nearly dislocating his spine in a crushing, but very meaningful hug.

  “I missed you guys too.”

  “This all of it?” Luke asked, eyeing the pile by the door.

  “The rest is in my car. I sold most of the big furniture to other people in the building, since I planned to furnish the house with all new stuff.”

  “Well…” His brother didn’t seem to know what to say. “We’re still glad you’re coming home. You belong there.”

  His smile was halfhearted. He’d been elated to finally return to the mountain. Only now his homecoming seemed bittersweet.

  Hearing Tristan and Kelly’s voices in the hall, he turned to greet them. “Welcome to my empty abode.”

  Hugs were exchanged and there was a moment so laden with unbearable pity, none of them seemed comfortable.

  “This blows,” Kelly finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Yup.”

  “Sorry to hear about you and Becca,” Tristan said.

  He shrugged, hating the sense that he was depressing the hell out of everyone. “What are you gonna do? It seems my lot in life is constantly coming in second.”

  “Yeah, that’s sort of why Colin didn’t want to come.”

  Because Sammy chose my brother over me just like Becca’s choosing Kevin.

  “Shut up, Kelly,” Luke snapped then quickly covered for Kelly’s slip. “That’s not true. He had something to do at Sammy’s parents’ this weekend.”

  “Sure.” There probably was some truth to Kelly’s statement. This entire situation reeked of past experiences and his older brother could possibly be reliving some outdated guilt. He couldn’t waste time dwelling on that when his present was such a mess. “Well, you wanna help me load these last few boxes?”

  Tristan nudged Luke toward the largest of the boxes and grabbed the next biggest. Kelly followed Bray into the kitchen where he surveyed the area once more to see if he’d overlooked anything. “I’m sorry I said that.”

  He shrugged. “Not your fault. It’s true.”

  “No it’s not, Bray. Colin would be here if he could.”

  “Where’s Finn?” He didn’t want to think about Colin. Funny how his new situation awakened past, familiar pains.

  “He had to stay home with the kids because Mallory’s in Princeton visiting Sheilagh. Some sort of crazy girls’ night out.”

  He smiled. “Good. Sheilagh needs that. She’s been a little down lately since the whole thing with Alec and no babies yet.”

  “Uh,” Kelly shuffled closer and lowered his voice. “You should probably know, Luke and Tristan got turned down by the adoption people.”

  “What? Why?”

  Kelly shrugged. “I think something about Tristan’s past. He had some violence on his record that they wouldn’t overlook.”

  “Not what happened last year? That wasn’t their fault.”

  “No, before that. Some stuff from Texas.”

  “Can they appeal it?”

  “Probably, but they’re pretty devastated. I don’t think they’re ready to readdress the issue yet. Just don’t bring it up. I think they were eager for the escape and the chance to focus on someone else’s problems.”

  “Glad to be of service.”

  Luke came into the kitchen. “Everything’s loaded up. You wanna grab dinner before we go?”

  “I’d rather get on the road. If you guys want to stop somewhere that’s fine, but I think I’m gonna head out. I wanna get there before dark.”

  “I’ll ride back with Bray. You two go have yourself a nice dinner,” Kelly said.

  They split up, leaving Tristan and Luke with directions to one of the nicer restaurants in town. Kelly slid into the passenger seat and immediately started fiddling with the radio, which was fine since Braydon didn’t much feel like talking and they had a long ride ahead of them.

  The silence only lasted the first hour, however. Once they were out of the city and cruising along the interstate, his brother started with the tough questions. “You gonna go directly to the new house?”

  Braydon was still trying to decide that. “I don’t know. I may spend a few nights at the big house until I get everything set up. I need to get the cable company out and I still need to grab little shit like bed sheets and towels.” His lips pursed. “I thought we’d be getting that stuff together.”

  “I don’t understand. She got back with her ex? The one that cheated on her?”

  “I don’t know if they ‘got back’ so much as she’s not making any decision right now. He wants her back and if they reconcile that means they can be a family again. I’m not comfortable messing with that.”

  “But the guy screwed around behind her back.”

  “Yup. He’s a real prize.”

  “She’ll be back.”

  He switched lanes. “Like Sammy came back.”

  “You didn’t love Sammy that way.”

  “She was still mine.”

  Kelly twisted in his seat. “Are you really gonna go down that road, Bray? Colin and Sammy belong together. You’ve even said so. Don’t let the hurt someone else caused affect your relationship with Colin.”

  “When’d you get so wise?”

  His brother chuckled. “Ash has me on a fully organic diet. She says it’s brain food.”

  The conversation rolled onto other easier topics and soon enough they were pulling onto the mountain. Braydon didn’t have the heart to look down the road leading to his house. Rather, he chugged onto his parents’ drive, feeling like a kid home from school with a big fat failure on his record instead of feeling like a man acclaiming the fruit of his success.

  Kelly’s truck was parked by Luke’s barn and he didn’t stick around, complaining Braydon had starved him near death and he needed to get home for sustenance. There wasn’t much to unload, being that he wasn’t sure where he’d be settling. For the time being, he grabbed the bag with his toiletries and a few shirts and jeans and headed in through the kitchen.

  The house was quiet. “Mum? Dad?”

  His mother came around the corner, a sad tilt to her head, her green eyes heavy with sympathy. Without a word she held out her arms and Braydon slowly walked into them. She kissed his head and hugged him tight.

  “My poor wee angel. I’m glad you’re finally home.” Breathing in her familiar scent, he drew a measure of comfort from her nearness. She patted his back and gingerly stepped away. “I’ve made you’re favorite. Go say hello to your father, and I’ll set you up a nice big dish.”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  He tucked his belongings on the stairs and headed to the den. “Dad?”

  “In here.” His father stood and grinned with stilted happiness. He obviously knew. “How was the drive?”

  “Fine. Kelly wouldn’t shut the hell up the whole way here.”

  His father looked over his shoulder. “Did you leave him on the interstate?”

  Chuckling, he said, “Nah, he went home to Ashlynn.”

  “Where are Tristan and Luke?”

  “They stayed back to grab dinner.”

  “Guess you heard about their news, being that Kelly was feeling chatty.”

  “Yeah. That sucks.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luke cry, but boy did he want to when they found out. I wish there was something we could do for th
em. It’s hard seeing your sons upset.”

  Perhaps talking about Luke was his father’s way of recognizing his own heartache without drawing to much attention to Braydon’s personal situation. “They’ll figure it out.”

  He cleared his throat. “And how about you?”

  He shrugged. “I’m here. Let’s start with that. Who knows what comes next?”

  Grinning with paternal tenderness, his father patted his shoulder. After a few minutes of small talk his dad went up to bed. Braydon returned to the kitchen where his mother waited at the table beside his dinner.

  He settled in and enjoyed the home cooked roast and glazed carrots. When he was finished, she produced two mugs and a bottle of Tully from the cabinet below the sink.

  “Do you want to talk about it, love?”

  “Not really.”

  She waited a beat. “I know your heart’s hurting, Braydon. I wish there was something I could say or do to ease some of your pain. It kills me seeing you like this when you were so happy a month ago.”

  “Being here helps.”

  She nodded. “Maybe you could call Jennifer and see what she’s been up to.”

  Jenn was his ex from high school. Last he saw her she wasn’t maturing very well. She still had a catty attitude that should have been left in grade school. “Nah. I don’t think I want to date right now.” Dating someone else wouldn’t replace Becca anyway.

  Her hand brushed over his arm. “I wish you would talk to me, love. Sometimes talkin’ helps.”

  “I just don’t understand. I’m so sick and tired of not being enough. It’s like there’s always someone better than me.”

  “Well, that’s just a crock of horse shit, that’s what that is, Braydon. You’re as good as they get and if anyone disagrees I’ll punt them right in the arse.”

  He chuckled.

  “Sure, you’ve got quirks. You’re a McCullough. That’s what makes us charming. But you, my boy, are as perfect as a McCullough can come. I mean, you’re neat and tidy and you know how to build things from nothin’. You’re patient and kind. A wee bit selfish at times, but what man isn’t? And with that Becca, oh, you were so wonderful with her and little Hunter. Makes no sense to me, love. Perhaps she’s a bit soft in the head to be leavin’ you for some jackass who never much treated her well to begin with.”

  “I think you’re a little biased, Mum.”

  She scoffed. “I speak the God’s honest truth! I know when my boys are actin’ like bastards and when they’re the victim of a situation. This lass made a mistake. As a matter of fact…she’s going on my list.”

  “Your list?”

  “Yes.” She stood and bustled to the junk drawer. Producing a small scrap of paper, she jotted down something and slid the paper to Braydon. It said Becca just above the name Jasper.

  “Jasper?”

  “The butcher. He’s on my list too. Tried to sell me lamb chops, claiming they were lean when I know he didn’t trim a bit of fat off those chops.” Her finger stabbed at the paper. “On my list!”

  “How do you get off the list?”

  “Oh, you don’t. I usually just lose the paper in all the hullabaloo and forget someone’s upset me.”

  His mother was insane, but he loved her. “Maybe I should start a list.”

  She slid him a pen. “Here, love, you can have mine.”

  Rolling the pen between his fingers, he wrote a K on the page, but couldn’t bring himself to scribble the other man’s name. It was a nice distraction, but that quickly reality came crashing back and his body seemed to hurt all over again. No breakup had ever affected him so deeply and he wondered when the pain in his chest would go away.

  Dropping the pen to the table, he said, “I think I’m gonna go up to bed, Mum. I’m tired.”

  Her smile faded and in a very soft voice she quietly agreed. “Okay, love. Get yourself some sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

  He kissed her cheek and took the stairs to his old room.

  * * * *

  After Braydon left the kitchen, Maureen quietly cleaned up. As she washed the dishes her tears silently fell. Seeing her babies hurting always wounded her. And here there was nothing to do for it. Only time would mend her sweet boy’s heart. She supposed she should be grateful he’d come home to lick his wounds. Of all her boys, Braydon was probably the most sensitive. And no matter how old and stubborn they became, sometimes a man just needed a mum’s love. Well, she had plenty of that.

  As she closed the cupboard, tucking the last dish away, she draped the worn dishtowel over the basin of the country sink. Her eyes combed the empty kitchen and a sense of warmth filled her. This was the heart of their home, a place that had seen many smiles and tears over the years. Laughter seemed tattooed into the grain of each log making up the high walls. She was being foolish, getting all sentimental at this late hour.

  Yet, as she shut off the light she grinned. Pictures of her children scampering over the bare wood floors filled her memories. Scraped knees and nicked knuckles had been mended many times right there on the chair by the old phone. They were getting older—all her babies.

  Shaking her head, she chased away the sentimental twitters tickling her heart and turned to take the stairs. She had grandbabies to love now and plenty of them—that being the Lord’s reward for not strangling her own children when they rightfully deserved it—cheeky jackasses.

  “What a family,” she whispered, smiling in the dark as she stooped to pick up Braydon’s shoes and tuck them by the wall. She tidied up his trail all the way to the bedrooms.

  Changing into her nightgown, she paused and stared at her husband. The kitchen may be the heart of their home, but he was what kept her own heart beating when it broke in times like this. He had the love and foresight to see what their love could create and she leaned on him to share that hope and foresight with their children. He was one of a kind and he was—thankfully—hers.

  Taking a moment, she basked in the memories that seemed to be flooding her. With every passing year, that love for her husband only grew. He was nothing like the young man he once was. Now his face was creased with laugh lines and his raven hair was turning dove white at the temples. But there was a time—it seemed only yesterday—that he was as young and wild as his sons. And she recalled her fair share of heartbreak, empathizing with exactly what her son was suffering now.

  Maureen climbed into bed trying not to wake Frank, but as his snoring silenced, she realized he was up. She turned and faced him, not trying to disguise her tears that would not relent.

  His large palm cupped her jaw, his thumb dragging under her eye. “What is it, Maureen?”

  “He’s just so heartbroken, Frank,” she whispered. “This lass was different. He truly loved her.”

  “I know he did.”

  “I wish there was something we could do. These boys of yours have grown into such stubborn men. They won’t show their hurt, but I know he’s hurting somethin’ fierce right now and all I can do is cry for him.”

  Leaning close, he kissed her nose. “You’ve got enough heart for all of us, love. Braydon’ll recover from this.”

  “It seems the same thing happens to him over and over again. It wasn’t supposed to happen with this one. And I know it’s only a matter of time before him and Colin start brawling.”

  “What’s Colin got to do with this?”

  “He stole Sammy.”

  Frank laughed. “That was years ago.”

  “Ah, but Braydon never let it go, never stopped holdin’ himself in his brother’s shadow.”

  “They beat the shit out of each other, Maureen. That’s how men let things go.”

  “But I know he’s reliving all that old hurt. He’s thinkin’ this ex-husband of Becca’s is better than him and he’s always thought Colin was better.”

  “They’re all equally rotten,” he said affectionately. “Tomorrow they’ll go to O’Malley’s and get him good and drunk and by Sunday he’ll be feeling better again.”


  “Oh, Frank, alcohol can’t fix problems like this.”

  “Well, neither can milk, so I vote for getting him piss drunk and hoping for the best.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Eejit.”

  He pinched her under the covers. “Ya love me though, woman. Eejit or not.”

  “You’re a pain in my arse.” But she did love him. He was her rock. “And don’t think you’re getting’ out of talkin’ to him tomorrow. I don’t mean small talk either. You talk to him, Frank, because he needs family right now and I don’t want him getting lost in this heartache.”

  “I know, love. Life’s full of bridges that need burnin’ and bridges meant to be crossed. It’s not always clear which is which. Braydon’s going to have to make up his mind before he moves on and that’s gonna take some time. But I’ll talk to him, let him know he can stay here as long as he needs.”

  “Just promise you’ll sit down with him.”

  “I will. Now get some sleep. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  * * * *

  The holidays had passed with stunted joy. Kevin joined them for a small Christmas dinner consisting of ham and traditional sides. He’d lingered as they decorated the tree before Santa came. But with every passing moment, Becca became more and more aware that this was not how it was supposed to be. Despite her son’s joy as they opened presents, every show of happiness on her part was a sad imitation of cheer.

  She smiled for her son, not wanting him to sense her true feelings. The truth was she’d never felt so hollow and alone. Though Kevin had been attentive, his presence grated. He was there for Hunter, she reminded herself regularly.

  The day after Christmas she’d discovered the gifts on her porch. There was no card, but she knew the beautiful snow globes were from Braydon. He’d been there without her knowing and that was when the truth became unarguably clear. If Kevin was present, Braydon would be absent, plain and simple.

  Kevin’s attitude had been more patient than she thought possible, yet undertones of a personal reconciliation were an ongoing obstacle. Becca continuously rebuffed his attempts to get closer. She’d allow him as much time as he desired with their son, but her heart was strictly off limits.