The Risks We Take

by Barbara C. Doyle

  Rosie let’s go of my hand and slowly walks over to her son.

  I can’t truly imagine what she’s going through. First, she lost her husband to cancer. Now Jake to a druggie with a gun. I’ve never lost anyone to death, and she lost her whole family to it.

  “Oh, baby,” she breathes, wrapping her hands around his.

  I stay by the door, listening to the machines beeping. Staring at the numbers rising and falling on the different screens.

  I can hear distant murmurs from in the hall, and from other rooms.

  I want silence.

  I want peace.

  It goes on like that for an hour. Me wanting things to be different than they are, and not getting it. Because no matter how bad I want control, I can’t always get it.

  Some things are beyond me.

  The doctor comes in after more time passes. It feels like an eternity, but it’s only been another fifteen minutes. He goes over Jake’s vitals, his lips pressed tightly together.

  He tells us some of them are improving, while others aren’t. He leaves after giving Jake a new IV bag.

  Rose gasps when Jake’s eyes flutter open five minutes later.

  “Baby?” She bolts up.

  He murmurs something, his voice raspy. I can’t hear what he says from where I’m standing. I move closer, but only by a few inches.

  “Sweetie, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can.”

  He squeezes her hand.

  “Thank God,” she whispers, voice shaken.

  He murmurs something that sounds like, “Not deaf.”

  A laugh bubbles from me.

  Even Rose chuckles. “Good to know your sense of humor isn’t damaged.”

  He tries to laugh, but winces in pain.

  She pats her hand. “None of that, sweet boy. You need to take it easy. Okay?”

  Her mumbles something.

  She leans in. “What?”

  My lips part and my eyes go wide when he says, “Kas-ey.”

  Rosie turns to look at me.

  Slowly, I make my way toward them.

  Jake moves his head so he’s watching me. A small smile curves his lips. I can’t help but smile back, knowing he’s mustering what little energy he has to just to be here.

  He tries picking his head up, but I shake my head, resting it back down. He moves his hands, one holding onto his Mom, the other me.

  “Tube,” he murmurs.

  “Tube?”

  I look at the only tube near him, and I’m pretty sure it’s currently helping him breathe.

  “That needs to stay in,” I tell him sadly.

  He closes his eyes for a brief moment.

  “Baby?” Rose asks, voice filled with concern. The monitors start making weird noises.

  “Jake?” I squeak.

  He opens his eyes. “Pa-per.”

  Paper?

  Thankfully, Rose know what he needs. She grabs a pad of paper from the table, and takes a pen from her purse.

  We let go of his hands as he takes the items. He doesn’t have a tight hold on them, but he makes do.

  It takes him a few minutes, but he finally puts the items down. His eyes meet mine, then go down to the paper.

  “Jake,” I whisper. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

  He gives me another smile. It’s tired. Dull. But it says so much about what he’s trying to prove to us.

  He’s strong. He’s fighting.

  I gather enough courage to peer down at what he scrawled across the notepad.

  Don’t be sad. I’m lucky enough to know what it’s like to be loved by you. Even if it’s not the love I always expected.

  I look at him, tears in my eyes.

  “I’ll always love you,” I whisper, fighting off tears.

  He tips his head in acknowledgment.

  Rose takes a feeble breath in, reading the note. Grasping my hand, she entwines our fingers together.

  “You’re loved by so many people,” Rose tells him, trying to keep her voice strong. I can see she’s slowly crumbling—seeing exactly what I’m seeing.

  Jake’s life draining from his eyes.

  The machines start making noise.

  He mumbles out an, “I. Know.”

  Rose’s grip on my hand hurts, but the pain brings some reality into this moment. It makes me feel. It makes this real.

  Jake’s eyes meet mine, lingering for only a short moment before drifting closed.

  The heart monitor flatlines.

  IAN

  Being back home has been nothing short of a long time coming. While the tour ended successfully, it also meant going back to the people I wanted to avoid.

  After a lot of thinking, I knew where my path was going to lead. It wasn’t in Clinton. And the thing is, Clinton isn’t that different from West Haven. Both places are covered with a layer of thick snow, ice blankets the streets, the air nips at everybody’s faces just the same. But it doesn’t have the people worth staying in and finding warmth with.

  Winter time is my favorite time of year because of that. It’s like an old version of you is dying off just to grow a new version in the coming months. Every decision, every action, everything that happened over the year becomes a clean slate after New Years.

  And I know the first chance I get after we’re done recording will be spent in West Haven and making good on my promise.

  I’ve sent her texts.

  Calls.

  Voicemails.

  All seen. All unanswered.

  It’s been a month since we talked, and November is quickly passing by. But I said I’d give her space, so that’s what I’m doing.

  I walk into my parents’ house knowing I have to face my own demons before I can go to Kasey and help with hers. I know she wanted to face her own, and I hope she does by the time I’m back.

  Walking into the kitchen with one of my bags thrown over my shoulder, I see Mom at the stove making her famous chicken casserole. I can smell the Alfredo sauce, and the herbs that she puts into it. She mentioned she’d make it the day I came back, knowing it’s my favorite dish.

  But she also knows that I left without more than a few words and an empty good-bye. I didn’t expect her to take kindly to my return, like it didn’t matter how I left.

  But as soon as she looks up from checking the temperature on the casserole, a large smile spreads across her face.

  “You’re home!”

  I nod, dropping my bag on the floor and stuffing my hands in my pockets.

  She puts the casserole back in. “Your father won’t be home until later, but he wanted us to eat without him. I’m happy you’re home, hon. How’d it go? Did you sight-see?”

  Looking at the woman who raised me is different when you know the truth that everyone tried burying. It’s like the blue eyes looking back at me are pools of lies waiting to drain at the perfect moment.

  “Yeah,” I finally answer, sitting down at the kitchen table. “It was great to see the landmarks. We went to the Eiffel Tower. Saw the Royal Palace. That kind of thing.”

  The smile on her face grows, and I try to find a reason to pick it apart. To keep hating her. To make her feel bad.

  But she looks happy, like nothing happened in the past. And she never once did anything to me to make me truly have any ill feelings. Questionable doubts, sure. But nothing more than that.

  She ignored the cold treatment I gave her and greeted me the way she always did.

  But because I can’t hold it in any longer, I bring up the conversation the only way I know how—bluntly.

  “I’m thinking about moving back to West Haven,” I admit, gauging for her reaction.

  Her brows go up. “You are?”

  “Out of all the traveling I’ve done in the past six months, going there has been my favorite. I even kept the apartment space I rented out when I stayed.”

  I was going to get rid of it, since I made an agreement for only a limited lease, but something told me to hold onto it. A gut feeling.<
br />
  One I’m glad I went with.

  I see the smile on her lips start to fade.

  I press a little further. “My neighbor is Kasey Miller. You remember her, right?”

  She sighs lightly and takes off the apron. Walking over to the table, she pulls out the chair next to me and sits down.

  “You know.” It isn’t a question.

  I just nod.

  Her lips press together. “Maybe it’s a good thing your father isn’t here right now. Even though he’s insisted on letting the past be the past, it doesn’t hurt him any less.”

  “He has every right to be hurt. You cheated on him.”

  “I’m not going to make up excuses, or lies. You’re old enough to know the truth. Part of me wondered if you’d find out by going there, but I hoped you wouldn’t.”

  “You lied to me this whole time. Both of you. You pretend like you’re happy, and that nothing is wrong, but then I get a bomb dropped on me. Imagine my surprise when I had to hear from my childhood best friend that my mom cheated on my dad.”

  “Kasey knew?”

  I roll my eyes. “Kasey’s parents didn’t turn out like you two did. They decided not to pretend that shit changed.”

  “I honestly didn’t know, and I’m sad to hear that. Really, I am. Children should have their families together, especially growing up.”

  “Is that why you and Dad stayed together?”

  She nods once. “We knew we had you to think about. It wasn’t an easy choice, Ian. No matter how much we try to forget, or pretend as you say, that it didn’t happen, it did. But we care about you, and we didn’t want you to be put through the stress of seeing our family problems.”

  I shake my head. “I never once suspected anything. Not even when you uprooted our life and moved us to a different state. Not once did I question why we had to move, or why I couldn’t even talk to my friends. But did you ever stop to think about what it would do to me by cutting off contact?”

  A sympathetic expression crosses her face. “Sweetie, you didn’t know anybody there. Kasey and you were friends, but we outgrow our friends. We’ve told both of you that before. It happens. I’m sure, even if you did stay, that you would have gone your separate ways eventually.”

  I lean back in the chair, trying to picture that happening. Everything would be different, just like Kasey told me before. I wouldn’t have met the guys or Marty, and I wouldn’t have the same band.

  But still, I promised Kasey we’d always be friends, and I failed. I broke that promise.

  “There was no reason to tell you what happened, because we were moving on from it,” she explains. “You were young, you wouldn’t have understood.”

  “I’m older now. Why don’t you try to explain it to me,” I challenge.

  “Ian …”

  “Dad and you were always fine, Mom. Not once did I see or hear you fight. Nobody in town suspected anything. You were happy.”

  “Every couple experiences a few obstacles in their relationships, Ian. That’s life. Nobody is perfect. Nobody is happy all the time. That’s human nature.”

  My eyes narrow. “Is cheating human nature, too? Because I’m pretty sure it’s not.”

  Her eyes dull. “I’m a terrible wife for what I did to your father. I have had to live with that mistake for quite some time now, and it’ll be something I live with for the rest of my life. But something you have to understand is that we do things without a specific reason. Or sometimes we do things because of hundreds of tiny little reasons that we make into an excuse to justify our actions. That’s human nature—the act of doing but not always understanding. I don’t expect you to understand, sweetie. I don’t expect you to see me the same. But at least walk away knowing that every choice we make has a hold on us.”

  I soak up everything, keeping my lips pressed firmly together. I don’t know what will happen if I open them.

  My mom cheated.

  My mom feels regret.

  My parents have lied to me. For me.

  “What kind of sacrifices did you make?” I find myself asking.

  “Sacrifices?”

  “Somebody told me that sacrificing something means you care. What did you sacrifice?”

  I expect her to tell me her happiness, but she doesn’t.

  “I didn’t sacrifice anything. Not in the end. What I had with … with Mr. Miller wasn’t some grand love. It was simply a mistake between too lonely people. Besides sacrificing the only real home I ever knew, I ended up gaining something better. My family back. And that’s all I truly care about.”

  I stare at the table, my eyes traveling the stitched pattern of the tablecloth as my brain wraps around her words.

  “Can I ask …” I look up at her. “How did Dad forgive you? Most people don’t after something like that.”

  She flattens out her shirt. “I expected him to leave. When he found out, I already felt guilty about what I did. It wasn’t about getting caught that opened my eyes. It was about seeing the hurt on his face. Feeling it radiate from him. I wanted him to hate me, because I hated me. I told him not to forgive me, because I couldn’t forgive me. But he didn’t do any of that. No, he did the exact opposite. We sat down and talked. And sure, it wasn’t the best between us for a long time, but we both still loved each other. He saw the hate, guilt, and regret that I faced. He said I was punishing myself enough.”

  “Just like that? It didn’t matter to him?”

  She frowns. “Of course it mattered. It always matters when we hurt those we care about, whether intentional or not. But dwelling on that pain only creates misery. Suffering. We have two choices: embrace it, or let it go. Your father chose the latter. And while I think you had a great deal to do with that, it gave me hope that maybe I hadn’t ruined everything. That there are still people out there worth risking everything for. That’s what your father did for me.”

  “Forgave you?”

  She smiles. “Took a risk. We’re still not perfect, sweetheart. No matter if he moved on, there will always be that lingering. But the ones worth taking risks on are usually the people you'll have in your life forever.”

  “What if they don’t forgive?”

  She thinks about it. “Then maybe they don’t know what they’re missing. Some people don’t want to step outside the dotted line, and while there’s nothing wrong with that, it makes for a stuffy life.”

  I think about Kasey. The way she plans everything. The way she color codes her life. How she skips to the end of a book just so she isn’t surprised by the ending.

  “Do you want to go back for her?” she asks quietly. Knowingly.

  I shrug. “I haven’t been the same since that town. I’d like to believe she’s the reason.”

  She pats my hand. “Go with your gut then. You’re going to experience so many trials in your life, baby. The things worth having don’t come easy. You know that already. And I’m so proud of you.”

  She stands up and kisses my cheek.

  She’s the same woman she always has been, even if, for a period, she was somebody I never would have guessed her to be.

  And if Dad could forgive her, so could I.

  I hope that Kasey will find that someday, too.

  I’m lying in bed with the moon as the only light in my room, thinking about the new song that’s been going off in my head. It’s nothing like my others, but the words repeat like they’re afraid I’ll forget them.

  Just as I close my eyes, my phone lights up with Kasey’s name.

  I don’t waste time to answer.

  “He’s dead. He’s dead. And I don’t have Taylor. And my mother is a terrible person who dates horrible people.”

  Her voice is frantic and I have trouble understanding what it is that she’s even saying because she’s talking so quickly.

  I quickly sit up in bed, letting the thin blankets fall off my chest. “Slow down. Who’s dead? What’s going on?”

  “J-Jake. He was shot, and it’s all her fault.”

/>   Something in me bottoms out.

  Jake is dead?

  “Holy fuck,” I murmur.

  Then it really hits me.

  “Jesus, Kasey. Are you okay? No, don’t answer that. That’s a stupid ass question. You’re not okay.”

  She sniffs back tears. “He’s gone.”

  “You mentioned Taylor? What happened, Kay? Do you need me to come there? I’ll drop everything that I’m doing to come to you if that’s what you need.”

  “You can’t,” she answers. “You can’t because the funeral was yesterday, and I left right after because I couldn’t handle it. You can’t because I’m not in West Haven. I’m in a small town in the middle of nowhere, and I’m lost because I don’t know where you live. And I stalked all your social media accounts, so I know you’re back from tour, which means you have to be here. You have to.”

  “You’re in Clinton?”

  “I’m next to a bar,” she cries. “I’m next to a bar, and I’m thinking about crying. Or drinking. Or drinking while crying until I’m very, very drunk. You said you have a bartender friend. Will he get me really drunk?”

  The alarm clock on my night stand says it’s almost one in the morning. On a Saturday night, he’s open until two.

  “What bar is it?” I ask.

  She gives me the name. It is Marty’s.

  I quickly get out of bed and slip on my jeans and T-shirt. “Go inside, and tell Marty that I’m coming to get you.”

  “But what if he won’t let me stay because I’m a mess?”

  “Marty will take care of you, Kasey. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  And I make sure I hustle ass enough to make it there by breaking at least three different laws while driving. And do I care?

  Not one fucking bit.

  As soon as I’m inside, I see Kasey and Marty at the bar. All the chairs and stools are up on the table, signaling Marty’s closing.

  He sees me. “I believe I have somebody you know,” he says as I walk over to them.

  I don’t think. I just pull Kasey into my arms and let her cry into my shirt. I can feel the tears absorb into the cotton, but I don’t complain, because she’s in pain and I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind.