Finding Goodbye

by Brittany Elise

  I shook my head. My cold shoulder was probably more than enough to keep him from spilling the rest of the story. I was good at shutting people out when I felt that I had been wronged. It was a quality that I wasn’t proud of.

  “Darcy,” Grandma paused, reaching out across the table, her cool fingertips on the back of my hand, “Liam was the one that called the ambulance. He stayed with you until help arrived.”

  I felt my lips parting, and goose bumps dotted the surface of my skin. “I didn’t know.” My words left in a whisper.

  “He wanted to tell you himself,” she said a moment later. “We were angry at first, too, but we understand that he couldn’t have known what would’ve happened. In life, every one of us is tested in our own way. We don’t always make the right choices, or travel down the right road… Mistakes are guaranteed to be made, and the punishments we inflict on ourselves are often worse than what anyone else could say or do. But, he’s a good and decent young man, and he’s suffered enough.”

  I gazed at my grandmother’s face, at the thin lines that tugged at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She had aged gracefully, but her eyes told a whole other story. Her wisdom was a strength, and it made me want to see the world as she did.

  ***

  Maverick poked his head over the railing of the stall when he heard me coming down the aisle. “Hey boy,” I greeted him, pausing to grab some grooming equipment from the tack room before opening his stall. I walked him to the grooming area, clipping two leads that were attached to either side of the wall to his halter. I started with the flick brush, sweeping dirt and dander from his coat.

  He munched on a carrot stick while I worked, methodically cleaning his silver coat. “You’re a good boy,” I told him, pausing to kiss his nose while I brushed his neck. He leaned forward, bumping his head against mine affectionately. “I love you, too,” I said.

  Working with him was keeping my mind from wandering too closely on the subject of Liam. Keeping my hands busy kept me from trembling. After I’d finished his groom, I walked him to the back door, letting him out into the back paddock to play. “Don’t get dirty,” I told him. Of course, asking a horse not to get dirty was much the equivalent of brushing your teeth and eating Oreo cookies at the same time.

  I leaned up against the siding of the barn, twisting Gabriel’s ring on my index finger while I watched Maverick playing in the field. The sunlight caught in his white and silver mane, giving it an opal-like sheen as he pranced in the wind. The scents surrounding me were familiar and comforting, yet there was a hollow pit in my stomach, an aching in my bones. I wrapped my arms around myself, squeezing my shoulders but it didn’t help. The emptiness I felt without him here was halting. He had become so much of me without even trying. I didn’t want to need him, but I did. I just hoped that it wasn’t too late to try and right all the wrongs. In a world where very few things made sense, he seemed to be one thing that held a certain sense of clarity.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I woke the next morning to gray, overcast skies. Grandma and Grandpa were moving through the house downstairs, talking in hurried voices. I pulled on a pair of jeans, and changed into a T-shirt before joining them in the kitchen.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to use this GPS thing on my phone?” Grandma was asking Grandpa. He was bent over a map on the kitchen table, stroking his mustache with one hand while tracing out a trail on the map with his other. “I think all you have to do is punch in the address and the GPS will give us directions as we go along.”

  “I’ve never used a GPS, Evelyn, and I’m not going to start using one now. I don’t need a robotic device shouting directions in my ear,” he mumbled.

  “Fine,” Grandma said, “I’ll turn the volume off and I’ll be the one shouting the directions in your ear. That will certainly make you happy.”

  “To be sure,” Grandpa answered with sarcasm.

  “Good morning, I think,” I said, heading straight for the coffee pot.

  “Good morning, Darcy,” Grandma said in a cheerful tone, looking up from her phone to smile at me. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did,” I said. “Did you?”

  “This one hogs the covers,” Grandpa said, gesturing over his shoulder to Grandma. “My feet were cold all night.”

  “I told you to keep your socks on,” Grandma said indifferently.

  I shook my head. “Well if this is what forty-some years of marriage looks like, I can’t wait to sign up,” I said teasingly.

  “Sarcasm is certainly not lost on this family.” Grandma shook her head and chuckled. “You know we love each other very much.”

  “Yes, yes, she completes me, and all of that fuzzy nonsense.” Grandpa winked. “We do, however, need to get a move on or we’re going to be late.”

  “Darcy, I left some emergency numbers for you on the refrigerator door, and you have both our cell numbers if anything should go awry?”

  “Yes,” I assured her. “Everything is going to be fine. Now please. Get out of here and try to have some fun.”

  I hugged them both, and walked them to the door. The trailer was hooked up to Grandpa’s truck, and Liam was making his way out of the barn with Clipper when we stepped out onto the porch.

  “We’ll call when we get there,” Grandma said, “and no table scraps for Luna.”

  “I got it,” I said.

  Liam loaded Clipper into the trailer, secured the locks, and tapped twice to signal that it was good to go.

  I waited until my grandparents had pulled out of the drive before I looked back at Liam. I stood there against my better judgment, fighting a basic urge to run to him. He turned to me, and I swear I could feel my blood run cold from the icy expression corrupting his features. I recognized that look because it had once mirrored my own. Hurt.

  I had hurt him.

  He turned his back, and started walking toward the barn. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t this. Before I could think about what I was doing, my legs carried me off the porch. “Liam, wait,” I pleaded.

  He paused just before reaching the barn door, turning to face me. The depths of his eyes were unnerving. He’d unleashed the full effect of their emerald ice, rendering me speechless.

  “You’re mad,” I finally managed to say. “I don’t blame you.”

  He said nothing.

  “The way I acted–It was wrong, and I don’t know what I can do to make up for the way I treated you. But, I want to try,” I said, pleading. “Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

  “I was never mad,” he said, “at least, not at you.”

  “Then what is it?” I asked, brows furrowing.

  “You were right,” he said simply. He sauntered toward the rail of the round pen, leaning against it. “I shouldn’t have tried to keep that from you. There just never seemed to be a good time–the right time.” He dropped his gaze, pushing his hands into his pockets. “I had every intention of telling you sooner, I just–”

  “It’s okay,” I said, cutting him off. “I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

  “Still,” he said.

  Overhead, thicker gray clouds were moving in our direction. They rolled across the sky, sending a heavy breeze that promised a storm.

  I lowered my voice, “Grandma told me you called the ambulance the night of our accident, and that you stayed with me until they came. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Would it have made a difference?” he asked.

  “It means something to me,” I said. “You probably saved my life.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t save your brother,” he said. His voice had taken on a whole new tone of he
artbreaking sadness.

  I stepped closer, reaching out to rest my palm on his forearm. Guilt was a terrible thing. Looking at him now, I understood that he had blamed himself for the accident–maybe even more so than the rest of us had. Feeling this type of responsibility was a heavy burden, but it also let us know that we were human, and capable of feeling with such a raw intensity.

  It was natural, I realized, to assign responsibility to yourself when the truth was that you actually had no control over certain circumstances. Every one of us had been searching for a share of the blame; a common emotional thread that would link us together in sorrow–simply because none of us could fix what had happened.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I said to him. More than anything, I needed him to know that I didn’t blame him for what had happened.

  He smiled, but it was a sad smile.

  “Your brother was gone by the time I got to the scene, but, I saw you twitch–just barely. Your head was bleeding pretty badly; I used my flannel as a compress until the ambulance arrived. I wanted to go with you, to make sure you were going to be okay, but they wouldn’t let me.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m glad you were there. I’m glad it was you.” My response felt inadequate–twisted, even. I just hoped he understood the meaning behind the sentiment. He had started off as this perfect stranger, entering a nightmare of events by happenstance. He didn’t have to go looking for his stepfather, but had he not; I might not be standing here… He could have walked away, and not called the ambulance. He could have been cruel. But, he’d cared enough to stay.

  Thunder rumbled through the clouds above us, darkening the sky like a paintbrush touching a watercolor canvas, blotting out the light.

  “I should probably go close the windows,” I said, gesturing over my shoulder toward the house. “I think we’re going to get rained on.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “I’ll grab the horses from the field; get them back in their stalls.”

  I let go of his forearm reluctantly, and turned back for the house just as I felt a drop of water hit my neck. Overhead, there was another crash of thunder, and then the rain just started pouring from the sky.

  I ducked into the house, heading for the living room windows. Luna and Radar were huddled together in the doggy bed, taking cover from the storm. I darted past them, pulling at the wooden frame of the big window as a gust of strong wind burst through the screen. It ruffled the curtains around me, sending in a spray of rain that nearly took my breath away.

  I dashed through the house, hindered by the stiff movements of my leg as I reached for each of the opened windows. There was a flash of lightning that blinked across the sky, followed by the shuddering boom of thunder. I could feel the house shaking down to its bones. The power seemed to snap, draining like the off switch to a vacuum until there was nothing but the stark contrast of darkness from light.

  I stood there, momentarily stunned by the power outage. In the near distance, I could hear the wind roaring against the house, rustling the branches in the trees just outside. I navigated my way through the inky dimness, heading for the kitchen. The rain gushing from the sky was making it hard to see, but I pushed through the screen door and hobbled across the gravel to the barn.

  It was a cold rain, biting my skin, making it hard to breathe. It took all of my strength to push the door a small fraction against the wind, letting myself inside. I spotted Liam at the far end of the hall; he was fighting the double sided swinging doors, trying to get them shut.

  “Liam,” I called, but he couldn’t hear me above the noise. I met him at the end of the barn, pushing against the doors until he slid the brass lock in place, forcing out the elements. The power flickered in the loft above us before finally coming back on. Thunder echoed in the rafters, but I could tell the storm was shifting, and moving away. It was rushing out as quickly as it came barreling in.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said, turning to face him. His clothes were drenched, sticking to the perfect shape of his body. I swallowed hard. “Are the horses okay?”

  “All fine, inside, and accounted for.”

  I nodded, trying to catch my breath. I straightened myself from the door, moving around the corner to the opening of the paddock. It was still raining, but the threat of the storm was passing over, and the wind was dying down. The round pen was a muddy mess filled with puddles from the sudden downpour, and the yard was littered with newly fallen spring leaves. Branches that had snapped and fallen were scattered throughout the yard. It was hard to believe that the storm had come out of nowhere like that, lasting only for a moment, and still managed to do a whole world of damage.

  The storm was like a representation of my life, I thought, correlating the series of events.

  And then I felt him there.

  Without looking, I could sense that he was standing right behind me. I knew if I leaned back just an inch that he would be there, and he would fix everything and make it all seem worth the heartache; my anchor in the storm of life.

  Adrenaline was pulsing through my veins from the rush of the storm, and I could feel the electrodes in my body responding to his. My breathing halted.

  I turned, and his arms were around me, and his mouth was on mine. Every fiber in my body melted into him, and I felt the world spinning around me. I felt him lifting me up onto the railing, and I impulsively wrapped my legs around his body, leaning into the kiss with a heated passion.

  Every moment, good or bad, was fading away from my memory, and all that was left was he and I. Nothing else would ever matter as long as he was mine, and I was his. We were like fire, catching and consuming, burning with perpetual bliss.

  Life, I realized, was nothing without someone to love. For every struggle that I had ever gone through and had to overcome, no matter how dark or lonely the world had seemed, he made it all worth it.

  “I love you, Liam Beckett,” I said to him, running my hands through the back of his dripping hair.

  He pulled me from the railing and walked through the falling rain to the porch, stumbling a little as he reached for the door, and I laughed.

  “I meant to do that.” He grinned, kissing me as we tumbled through the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  My favorite part about the day was the time when the sun was at its lowest in the sky, painting it with shades of amethyst and rose. Today marked exactly seven months since my brother had passed away, and it was also the date of our nineteenth birthday. There was still a small emptiness that remained within me, but I was no longer crippled by the pain of losing him. Instead, I was reminded of him daily in the small things that life had gifted me with. Today, I had chosen to celebrate his memory, and remember him for the amazing soul that he was. The world was a little darker without him in it, but I would always carry a little piece of his light with me wherever I’d go.

  Grandma had made peach cobbler and apple crisp pies to celebrate the day, and invited everyone over to share in the occasion. My mom sat behind me on the porch swing, gently swaying with Grandpa and Grandma on either side.

  Beck and Luke had officially started dating, and argued and teased each other like a couple who had been married for years–sort of like Grandma and Grandpa. Being around them was nothing short of amusing.

  And then there was Liam. He had become the greatest blessing of all. He believed in me, and was constantly pushing me to believe in myself. He challenged me and inspired me, and with him at my side, I felt like I could take on the world.

  “Do not feed the duck any pie,” Grandma scolded Luke who was feeding tidbits of his pie crust to Luna. After some serious coddling and treat sneaking, she finally decided that Luke was okay after all.

&n
bsp; “Sorry Evelyn,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans.

  Beck smacked him upside the head. “Use a napkin,” she chastised.

  “All right, jeesh.”

  “Okay, present time,” Grandma said, rising from her chair.

  “You guys shouldn’t have done anything,” I said. I hated being the center of attention. I didn’t want anyone’s eyes on me.

  “This one is from Grandpa, Mom, and me.” She grinned, handing me a shiny silver wrapped package. It was heavy in my hands.

  I ripped the paper away from the package, and lifted the lid from the cardboard box. To my surprise, the box contained a couple of equine books that I needed to start fall semester. Next, I found a leather binder filled with dozens of hand-written family pie recipes–complete with pictures of my grandma’s handy-work.

  “This is really great,” I said, thanking each of them.

  “Don’t tell Layla you have those recipes,” Beck said, “She’ll never stop hounding you for the secret ingredient.”

  “There’s no such thing as a secret ingredient.” Grandma winked.

  “This one is from us,” Beck said, handing me a certificate for a lifetime supply of free coffee and pastries from the Crescent Moon. She had decorated it with glitter and faux jewels from her craft kit.

  “Thanks, Beck.” I laughed.

  “I didn’t wrap it, but, here,” she said, handing me a bracelet made from four different kinds of twine. “I have one too. It’s my own creative version of a friendship bracelet, but it’s made with super strong material so it won’t fray or break. I’m thinking of selling them when I open my boutique.”

  “This is great, really.”

  “I got you a gift, too, but it’s in the fridge,” Luke said.