by Toler, B N
Cole stood in the middle of the barn, his hat on backwards and arms crossed. The irritation radiating from his stance was fueled by the tight expression in his eyes, making me think he was angry at me just for being there. Normally, I was pretty adept at playing things cool to get out of tense situations. Move through or around it—that’s what my father had taught me. But with Cole…something about him threw me off my game; he unnerved me. I couldn’t think straight when it came to him.
I wanted to say something funny or flirtatious that might ease the tension between us. Maybe if I could make him laugh, he’d let me in, even if only for a moment.
Think, Em. Say something cool.
“You just gonna stand there staring at me like a weirdo?” I tossed at him, my tone laced with humor. I inwardly cringed when he didn’t laugh or smile. His mouth didn’t even twitch as if it might lift in to a smile. What the actual hell, Em?
He dropped his arms and snorted in disbelief. “Bailor said you were using the bathroom. I guess you decided to take yourself on a tour too.”
My mouth dropped open. Was he being for real? I motioned behind me to the door. “I literally just looked out the wide-open doors. I’d hardly call that giving myself a tour.”
“Well, now that you have your bike, Emalee,” he said pompously as he motioned his hand toward the driveway behind him, “I think you’re all set to go.”
I widened my eyes, shocked at the coldness in his voice. Remembering what Bailor had said on the drive over, I tried not to lash out at the condescending jerk, but I couldn’t stop myself from blurting, “What’s your deal, Cole?”
His head reared back. “My deal?”
“Yeah, what’s with the let’s be an asshole to the girl from out of town? What’d I ever do to you?”
He laughed derisively. “Are you so full of yourself, you can’t accept that someone just might not like you?”
Whoa. I hadn’t expected him to say something like that. Shock and…disappointment rushed me, a numbing arctic wave slamming into me, draining my body and leaving me speechless.
He didn’t like me? According to Bailor he didn’t want a girlfriend, but he couldn’t even see me as a friend?
I lowered my head, refusing to let him see the hurt in my eyes. Move through or around it. Getting upset and lashing out at him wouldn’t do any good. My only choice was to move around it and leave. I was a grown-up, mostly, and I shouldn’t care if he liked me or not. Go, Em. Get on your bike and go. After a moment, I raised my chin, pulled my shoulders back and schooled my features. I walked past him and out of the barn, marching straight to my bike.
Bailor stepped out on the front porch of the house, wiping his hands on a dishtowel as I climbed on Pinky and pushed the kickstand up with my heel. “Em, I can give you a ride,” he hollered, his expression twisted in concern.
“Yeah, I gotta go,” I yelled back, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t care that I was being rude; I needed to get away from Cole as fast as the ancient bike would allow. I didn’t want to give Cole the satisfaction of knowing he had me on the verge of tears, and I was too afraid Bailor would notice it in my eyes. From my peripheral vision, I saw Cole in the doorway of the barn, most likely feeling quite pleased with himself. “Thanks again for fixing my bike! I’ll see y’all around!” I called out.
I stood on the pedals, building momentum and hastening my escape, before I settled on the seat. The bike rode better than before I’d wrecked it. Bailor was a saint. His brother, however, was a total asshole. I pedaled hard and fast all the way home, letting my anger and frustration fuel me. I just didn’t understand. I hadn’t been rude; I hadn’t done anything to him. In fact, I’d gone out of my way to keep him from getting in a fight the day before, which would have landed him in a lot of trouble, judging from the rage I’d seen in his eyes. What had he done? He’d been kind to help me when they found me on the side of the road, but after that it was like he shut the door in my face and had been plain nasty to me since.
By the time I made it to the house, my quads burned and I was drenched in sweat, causing my shirt to cling to my skin. I propped Pinky against the barn and trudged in the house, desperate for a glass of water but stopped short at the bottom of the stairs.
I heard my mother crying in her bedroom. Catching a few words in between sobs, I figured she was on the phone with her best friend Connie, and I was pretty sure she hadn’t heard me come in, especially since the screen door had wedged itself open after I yanked it pretty hard. After a moment of indecision, I turned back and pulled on the screen door hard enough to ensure it would slam closed and alert her to my presence.
“Mama!” I shouted. “I’m back!”
“I’ll be down in just a minute!” she called a few moments later, her voice a few octaves too high.
I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of lemonade and was sitting at the table when she came into the kitchen a little while later. Her eyes were swollen, but she’d touched up her makeup in such a way that anyone else would never have known she’d been crying. My heart sank at the sight of her.
I pretended I hadn’t heard her crying, and she gladly went along with it as she busied herself reheating leftovers for our dinner while I babbled on about how great the bike was after Bailor repaired it. She sat down and picked at her plate, clearly not hungry, and I couldn’t hold back any longer and asked, “What’s going on, Mama? Why are you—”
“Why am I what?” she interrupted, snapping her gaze to me.
I froze, regretting having said anything. I didn’t want to upset her more, and I certainly didn’t want her to turn whatever internal demon she was battling on me, but I’d already thrown out the lasso, I might as well tug it back and see what I caught. “What’s going on with you?” I finished. “You don’t seem like yourself.”
Her features tightened as she placed her palms on the table. “You sound like your father, Emalee.”
“Does it have to do with Daddy?” I asked carefully, softening my voice. “Did he do something?” My chest tightened at the thought. Wrapping my head around the idea that the greatest man I’d ever known might have been unfaithful to my mother made my stomach churn.
Her chair screeched as she pushed it back and stood, crossing to the trash and scraping her uneaten food from her plate. “Emalee, I know you feel like you’re all grown up, but there are just some things you won’t understand until you’ve lived through them.”
I fumbled for something to say, but as much as I wanted to ease her pain, there was nothing I could say. The phone rang, cutting through the moment. “That’s probably your father,” she said over her shoulder as she finished rinsing her plate. She kissed my forehead, then added as she hurried out of the kitchen, “I’m not feeling well. Tell him I turned in early.”
Stunned by her actions, I let the phone ring as a realization dawned: My parents’ marriage was falling apart.
“You didn’t have to be rude,” Bailor reiterated for the tenth time.
“How do you know if I was rude? You weren’t even there.” I argued even though I knew damn well he was right.
“That girl hightailed it out of here like her ass was on fire,” Bailor went on. He was trying to make my mother comfortable, adjusting her pillows and being careful not to tug on any of the tubes attached to her.
Her concerned eyes met mine before she tapped at her screen.
Is. She. Not. Nice?
I rolled my eyes and sighed. It was hard to maintain my stance, knowing I had been rude and Emalee had done nothing to deserve it. Of course now, I didn’t just look like an asshole, I actually was one.
“She’s friendly, Mom,” Bailor answered for me. “Cole just has it out for her for some reason. Apparently, he’s deeply offended by pretty girls who like him.”
Joe was sitting in the corner, folding laundry, when he piped in, “Leave him be, Bailor. If he doesn’t like the girl, that’s his business.”
Bailor threw a glance at me. “The problem isn’t t
hat he doesn’t like the girl,” he quipped. “The problem is he really likes her.”
Joe shook his head. “Or maybe you’re the one that likes her, but you know you wouldn’t have a chance in hell with her,” Joe murmured.
Bailor’s features twisted. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“You’re the one so enamored with her. Why don’t you hang out with her? Quit trying to force her on Cole.”
I knew Bailor saw Emalee as entertainment—a fun, starry-eyed girl here for the summer to offer us poor Kepner boys some diversion from our usually dreary lives. I couldn’t blame him for wanting the distraction, but I refused to let myself get attached to one more thing I’d have to let go of. Least of all a woman. I didn’t want temporary relief. Bailor believed having a little bit of something was better than nothing at all. I didn’t see it that way. I’d rather not know what I might be missing, and I didn’t see anything wrong with that. My way meant I didn’t risk being let down, or worse, hurting someone else.
“Always walking around here acting like you’ve got time to live in some dream land.” Of all the times Joe could decide to poke the Bailor-bear, he just had to pick this one. If he had just kept his mouth shut the subject probably would’ve dropped.
Bailor fixed his firm stare on Joe. “I’d rather live in dream land than end up a bitter man that does nothing but feel sorry for himself.” He glanced at me before turning back to Joe. “I guess it’s lonely over there in the land of miserable assholes; you’re just itching to get Cole to come on over, too. The way he acts these days, shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Boys,” my mother droned out as she tapped at the screen, stopping us cold.
Stop. This. Please.
Joe dropped the shirt he was folding. As he moved his wheelchair back, he looked up at Bailor. “I don’t feel sorry for me,” Joe confessed. “I feel sorry for all of us.” Then he wheeled out of the room.
“You guys really are assholes,” Bailor muttered. “I just invited a nice girl over. I guess we can’t even have friends.”
Before I could defend myself, he stormed out of the house. I stared bewildered at his disappearing form through the window. I’d never seen him so worked up before. He was the chill brother, the one who always kept it light.
My gaze eventually fell to my mother, and the pain I saw in her gaze shredded me. Despite the united front we Kepners showed the world, the truth was our family was shaking itself apart from the inside.
My mother had announced our plans to visit Cole’s mother the moment I’d entered the kitchen that morning and told me to wear something nice. I’d planned on avoiding all things Kepner for the rest of the summer. I’d even rehearsed what I’d do if there were any unexpected run-ins in town. I’d dash for the nearest exit. Now, my mother was dragging me into the lion’s den.
The closer we got to their farm, the heavier the growing dread sat in my stomach. “I don’t know why I had to come with you. I told you, Cole doesn’t even like me. Besides, I haven’t even met their mother.” I griped. “You could’ve gone without me.”
“Constance was really into music when we were in high school. She was pretty good, too. Probably could have made it big, if she’d made it out of this town.”
I glanced at my mother, curiosity grazing my mind with inviting fingers. “Why didn’t she go for it?”
My mother’s features cradled a sad smile. “She got pregnant senior year. Ended up marrying Brady Kepner. The rest…is history.”
I didn’t want to admit I was eager to learn more about Cole’s life, but I was and now that my mother had given me a taste…I wanted more. “So where is their father now?”
She glanced at me, frowning. “I shouldn’t have told you all of that. I don’t want to be a gossip, Emalee.”
My mouth fell open in mock offense. “I’m your daughter. It doesn’t count as gossip if we’re related.”
She chuckled. “It still counts.”
“Mother…” I groaned. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why do you want to know?” Always so clever, my mother. She knew why, but she wanted me to say it.
I flopped back in my seat, folding my arms over my chest. How could I answer that? I want to know everything about Cole, even though I have no interest in him and have sworn an oath to never speak to him again. I would never admit that to her. Ever. My walls were impenetrable.
Apparently, my expression relayed my every thought and she read me like an open book because she offered, “If you tell me why, I’ll tell you.”
I tugged my lip between my teeth. Maybe my walls were penetrable after all. “I mean…” I started with a huff, already feeling ridiculous. “Cole…he seems nice, but he’s so broody. I don’t know,” I let my thoughts skate out on a deep sigh.
Mama cut a quick glance to me with what appeared to be understanding. “You have to promise it stays between us. You never repeat it to anyone, not even Cole.”
I wasn’t counting on any deep or meaningful conversations happening between me and the youngest Kepner brother anytime soon, so I nodded my head in agreement.
“This is his business, if he wants to share it with you, let him. The only reason I’m telling you is because these boys have had a hard turn at life, and I don’t want you to mistake their pain for something that’s wrong with you. Sometimes when the world has been hard on us, we shut the world out.”
“What does that mean?”
“Meaning if Cole acts like he doesn’t like you, don’t take it personally.”
I rolled my eyes when she wasn’t looking. I could sympathize with Cole’s feelings, but that didn’t mean it made it easy to be nice to someone that seemed to do their damnedest to be rude to me.
“Keep in mind, Em,” my mother warned. “What I know is hearsay. Some your grandmother shared with me before she passed away, and some I’ve heard from folks in town.”
I nodded that I understood.
Then she told me what she knew of the Kepner family. The oldest brother Joe had been the town football star with a full scholarship to play college football. Then one morning, he’d woken up and couldn’t walk. Mama wasn’t exactly sure what happened, but she believed a blood clot of some sort had caused the issues. To the best of her knowledge, Joe hadn’t walked since. Not long after Joe’s tragedy, their father had suffered a heart attack out in the fields and wasn’t found until several hours later. When Brady Kepner inherited the farm from his father, he’d inherited the load of debt that came with it. Determined to hold on to his family’s legacy, he quite literally worked himself into the ground, and the very thing he’d been fighting to hold on to was what took him in the end.
With their dad gone and Joe confined to a wheelchair, Bailor had quit high school and took on all the physical labor while Joe managed the books. They’d done their best make do with hired hands because everyone was determined that Cole would finish high school and go to college. He had to. Somebody had to break the curse. But just after the start of his second semester, Cole’s mother had developed numbness in her hand and began having difficulty speaking. When she was diagnosed with ALS, Cole had dropped out of college and returned home to help care for her and the farm.
It all seemed…too much to me; like a made-for-TV movie. How could one family go through so much misfortune? “How long does their mother have?” I finally asked, my chest aching.
Gravel popped under the tires and dust billowed behind us as she drove down the Kepner’s driveway. “I don’t know. I heard she’s pretty far along now, and she’s not going to let them put her on a ventilator when she’s unable to breathe.” I faced forward, my brows sinking as low as I felt. “Em, you can’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
She motioned with her hand. “That. Your face. They don’t need your pity.”
I bobbed my head, letting her know I understood what she meant. “What do they need, Mama?”
“Joy,” she said without hesitation. “They need joy, Emal
ee. And someone to make them forget the sadness, even if it’s only for a brief time.”
I blinked, feeling a little overwhelmed. “How do we do that?”
“Just do what you always do, Em.” She patted my leg gently. “Be the sun.”
Tears pricked at her words. The other day those same words had felt like an insult, but now I saw they were the highest compliment I could be given.
Still, I doubted I could bring joy to anyone living with so much heartbreak, let alone Cole and his brothers. “What if they don’t like the sun?”
“They will, Emalee. They will.”
Bailor met us as we got out of the car. Cole was nowhere in sight and the truck was gone. I guess upon news of our impending visit, he’d decided to take off. Though I wasn’t surprised, the sting of disappointment and insult resonated in my chest. Was I really this terrible of a person in his mind?
“Hey, Bailor,” I chirped.
“Hello, ladies,” he beamed back. His dirty blonde hair was a tad too long, but it looked purposeful. His big white teeth filled his smile and his green eyes were as genuine as the tone of his voice. It was absolutely absurd how handsome Bailor Kepner was when he smiled.
“Hi there,” my mother replied as she held up the meal she’d prepared that morning. “I hope you boys like macaroni casserole.”
Bailor took it and peeled the foil covering back to take a peek. “It’s a staple in a house with three bachelors,” he joked. “But it’s been a long while since we’ve had it homemade. That was really kind of you.”
My mother smiled. “How is she today?”
Bailor kept his smile plastered on, but his eyes frowned. “She’s very happy to have you visit.” He was a master of keeping things upbeat. Where did he find it under the massive pile of sadness on top of him? Knowing what I knew now, I had an entirely new level of respect for him. Bailor Kepner was the kind of person you felt like you didn’t deserve to know because he was too good.