by Toler, B N
I managed to sneak out of Cole’s room without waking him, which was gold medal worthy considering the floors creaked with every step. I wasn’t able to find my shirt in the dark, so I stole one of Cole’s from a pile of folded laundry on his desk. I hated myself for leaving that way, especially after the intensity of what we’d shared, but the guilt of what I’d kept from him drove me out of his arms.
Despite the low visibility on the first floor, I could tell that the front door was open as I slowly crept down the stairs, which meant I’d only have to battle the creaky screen door. I tip-toed to it and pushed it softly, just enough for my body to fit through. I held it until it was closed, letting out a quiet breath of relief.
“You two have a good time?” I heard the snick of the lighter just as I turned toward the voice. The flame illuminated Joe’s face as he touched it to the cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“What the hell, Joe,” I wheezed as I clutched my chest. He was sitting about five feet to the right of the front door. “You just scared the crap out of me.”
Joe didn’t respond. He wore only pajama pants, and it was the first time I remembered having ever seen him shirtless. Or smoking. When did that start? Tattoos covered his chest and stomach, but it was far too dark for me to make out any of the designs.
“Have you been out here all night waiting for me?” I asked incredulously.
The ember of his cigarette flared as he took a drag before responding. “Just trying to give you two some privacy.”
I was pissed but instead of bitching at him, I perched myself on the porch banister facing him. There was a strong probability Joe had heard us upstairs, but even if he hadn’t, my attempt to slip out like a thief in the night wearing Cole’s shirt pointed to one likely conclusion.
“Bailor told me what you did to keep that reporter from pressing charges.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I said.
“I wasn’t going to,” he stated bluntly, causing me to lift one brow. “That asshole wouldn’t have even been here if you’d kept your promise.”
I lowered my head and closed my eyes, defeat rushing me. How could something I did for love so long ago end up being the very thing that was now keeping me from having the man I wanted?
My last night in town, Cole and I made dinner with his brothers and ate on the porch around a card table Bailor had dragged down from the attic.
As we neared the end of the meal, Bailor threw a dinner roll across the table, nailing Cole in the forehead with it.
“Bastard,” Cole grunted as he rubbed his forehead. We all laughed, even Joe, though not as boisterously as the rest of us.
“I’m sure you’ll miss these toddlers messing with each other all the time, Emalee,” Joe remarked.
I smiled sadly, knowing there were no words to convey how much I’d miss them all. While my own family had slowly disintegrated over the summer, I’d found solace among the Kepners. I wasn’t from Kansas, but leaving them felt like leaving home.
“And I’m sure you’ll miss grumpy old Joe over here,” Bailor added, earning an eye roll from his older brother.
Constance’s death still loomed. We all missed her and hadn’t quite fully adjusted to existing in the house without being conscious of her, but despite it all, we were trying to have one last meal together where we didn’t let the heavy things weigh us down.
“I’ll miss all of you.”
There was a moment of quiet before Bailor cleared his throat and stood. “Cole, let’s clear these dishes.”
I pushed my chair back to stand, but Cole put his hand on my arm, stopping me. “You sit. It’ll only take us a few minutes.”
The two gathered up the plates and silverware and went inside, leaving me alone with Joe.
Joe’s hand was on the table, his fingers tapping quietly against the surface as he fixed his gaze on some inanimate object. I watched him for a moment, wondering if he was okay. He hid it well, but I knew Joe was worried. Worried about losing the farm and worried about what would happen to him and his brothers if they lost what little they had left.
“Joe?” I spoke softly. His gaze lifted to mine and he blinked a few times. “You okay?”
Flattening his hand on the table, he cleared his throat. “I hope it all goes well for you, Emalee. The plans. The tour.”
I tilted my head. While I was excited about the tour, I was discovering the dream didn’t seem as amazing as it had before. I found myself with different dreams, or maybe more like additions to my original dream.
“Your father came by a few days ago,” Joe said bluntly.
My heart plummeted. “He did?” Mama had insisted he stay away from the Kepners, and I’d thought he’d respected that.
“Cole didn’t want me to say anything.”
I swallowed hard, waiting for him to finish, dreading what he’d say my dad had done.
“He offered Cole money to end things with you.”
I closed my eyes as the anger and shame slammed into me. “I can’t believe he did that.”
“It was a check in an envelope. Cole threw it away. Didn’t even look at it,” Joe continued.
Tears burned the back of my eyes. Cole didn’t take the money. He could have, and I would’ve never known. A tear trickled down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away as Joe slid a torn envelope across the table.
“Odd the amount was twenty thousand dollars. Exactly what you offered me a few days ago.”
My heart thundered in my chest as sweat prickled the back of my neck. Joe clearly thought I had something to do with my father offering Cole the money. I shook my head vehemently. “I swear, Joe, I didn’t ask him to bribe your brother. I would never do that. The amount is just coincidence.” He eyed me for a long moment, trying to decide if he believed me or not. I couldn’t deny in his position I’d have been suspicious too.
“I just wanted you to know how much Cole loves you. Even though it’s ending for you two, a person should know when they are loved like that.”
I took the envelope and pulled the check from it, my body shuddering as sadness wound its way through me. Sad they were losing their farm. Sad my father would stoop so low as to try to bribe Cole. Sad I was leaving the love of my life.
Folding the check, I slid it back across the table. “Take it, Joe. Save the farm. Please.”
He scowled, insulted. “I’m not taking that money.”
“Why not?” I asked, frustration lacing my tone. “Pride?”
“You’re damn right, Emalee.” His volume increased with his words.
I narrowed my gaze at him. “Fuck pride, Joe,” I blurted angrily, causing him to raise his eyebrows. “You’d let your family legacy be taken from you because you’re too proud to accept help?” I sat back. “What happens to all of you when you lose this place?”
Joe glanced down at the check. He didn’t know and not knowing was scary. “That’s not your concern, Emalee.”
I scoffed, insulted, my eyes blurring with tears. “How can you say that to me? I know I’m just some naïve little girl to you, but you guys…” my lip trembled as I inhaled a calming breath, “I feel like this is my family, too. It’s killing me to leave not knowing you’ll all be okay.”
His gaze softened and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know we care about you. And I know you want to help, but—”
“God, Joe,” I interrupted him, knowing he was just going to continue to decline my offer. “I know you don’t want to, but please. Please take it.”
“I can’t. I can’t take that money and let your father believe Cole took the bait.”
“Then take my money. I’ll write the check.”
Joe swallowed, desperation and pride battling each other in his gaze. When he looked at me, it was as if he was pleading with me to understand. “Cole would never forgive me.”
He was right. Cole wouldn’t. Which meant if Joe took the money, Cole could never know, no matter what it took to keep it from him. The image of Cole staring ou
t at the fields reminiscing about his childhood and his father rolled through my mind. He’d lost so much. It terrified me to think who he would become if he lost the farm too.
“He’ll never know.”
“Emalee—”
“I love him, too,” I interrupted. “I love all of you. Please, Joe. I can’t stand to think of him losing anything else. Please.”
He glanced at the check where it sat on the table. I could tell he didn’t want to; he knew it was wrong and a betrayal to Cole on some level, but on another level…taking it would be just as much for Cole.
“Where would I say the money came from? They’d ask.”
“Constance’s guitar. Would you give it to me? I’ll cherish it forever. You can tell your brothers you sold it on eBay and got the money that way.”
He smirked. “They’d be idiots to believe I got twenty thousand dollars for her guitar.”
“Tell them it’s a limited edition for that year. I don’t know, think of something.”
Joe blinked rapidly, the decision too much pressure for him. “Please, Joe. He’ll never find out.”
His gaze met mine. “You can never come back, Emalee. You know that, right? If we do this, you have to stay away. He’d never forgive me. He’d never forgive you.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed the emotion in my throat. “I won’t come back. I promise. I’ll sneak back over early tomorrow morning, before they wake up. Meet me at the end of the driveway with the guitar. I’ll have a check from me for you.”
Bailor and Cole’s voices neared from inside the house, and Joe quickly swiped up the envelope, shoving it in his pocket.
“Four in the morning,” he confirmed.
I nodded in agreement. I’d have to steal my mother’s car, but I figured if she caught me, I’d just say I had forgotten something at their house.
“I’ll be here.”
Yes, I had promised, but Joe had to know I hadn’t come back solely to break that promise. Neither of us could’ve known how things would change over the years. I didn’t deserve him being so rude to me. “You know what,” I began as I stood and collected my shoes, “I think Cole would forgive us. I think he’d understand. For Pete’s sake, Joe, it was over a decade ago.”
Joe fisted his hand and bumped the side of it against the arm of his wheelchair, a vein popping out of his neck. “So you’re going to tell him?”
Cole’s words rattled through my mind.
A mirage of a perfect life is just that—an illusion.
I knew telling him was the right thing to do, but I couldn’t deny I was worried. Maybe Cole wouldn’t forgive us. Maybe he wouldn’t understand.
Frustration clawed at me, and I couldn’t stop myself from lashing out at Joe. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “We should tell him. I hate lying to him and pretending I didn’t do this thing I’d known even back then he’d consider unforgiveable.”
“So you’d risk him never speaking to you—or me—again just to ease your conscience?”
I bent and shoved my foot into one of my shoes. “Joe,” I exhaled in defeat. “I didn’t plan that tonight.” I pointed upstairs. “It just happened. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but right now, my priority is my dying mother and my half-sister.”
The red ember of his cigarette flared as he took a final drag before flicking it off the porch. “If Cole ends up bent on life again because of this, Emalee, it’s on you. If you’d stayed away, he would’ve been fine.”
He wheeled around me before I could say anything else, flinging the screen door open and letting it slam loudly behind him.
Bea and my mother were at the kitchen table when I trudged downstairs the next morning.
“Emalee, some boxes arrived for you last night. They’re stacked in the living room,” Mama said.
I stopped and watched her for a moment. I’d been so angry that she’d kept the secret, but after my confrontation with Joe, I realized I wasn’t in a position to throw stones—I’d pretty much done the same thing for Cole and his family and kept the secret for the same reasons my mother had kept hers. I’d meant well, and she had too.
“You look like you’re feeling better today,” I noted.
“A bit,” she said with a smile.
I motioned my head toward the living room and explained, “We left in such a hurry to get here, Pepper had some of our things boxed and shipped to us. I’ll try to get them unpacked and out of the way today.”
“I can help if you want, that is if you don’t mind a practical stranger going through your things,” Bea offered.
“You’re no stranger, Bea. Not now.”
Bea beamed. “Aw thanks, sis,” she joked. “Or I guess technically, I’m the older sister so I can call you little sis.”
“Whatever you want, sis,” I said back. “And if you have time to go through the boxes that’s cool, but please don’t feel like you have to.”
The corner of my mother’s mouth lifted. “Speaking of a stranger going through her stuff, did you hear about the guy that broke into her house?” She leaned conspiratorially into Bea. “Can you believe he tried to sell Emalee’s dirty unmentionables on eBay?”
Bea’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately,” I muttered as I opened a cabinet. “And it was my hotel room, Mama,” I clarified.
“Geez,” Bea huffed. “Tell me, Emalee, what do a pair of your dirty panties go for online?”
“Highest bid was over two thousand dollars,” Mama answered. “It had only been on the site for five minutes.”
My anxiety level was through the roof as I kept replaying my conversation with Joe from the night before at the same time I relived about what Cole had done to my body. Their added teasing was only making it worse.
“Please,” I begged. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”
“Okay, okay,” Mama acquiesced, a trace of humor still evident in her contrite tone.
“You guys got back late,” Bea noted as I poured myself a cup of coffee.
I glanced at her, guilt washing over me. I hadn’t invited Bea to come along because I hadn’t intended for us to be there long.
Mama snuck a knowing look my way. “And how was Cole?”
I twisted my mouth, responding to her seemingly simple question. “He was fine.” Then to address Bea’s comment, I added, “We talked, catching up on old times.”
Mama’s mouth lifted as she and Bea locked amused gazes. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” They both giggled, Mama turning to hide her face.
I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee. The two of them were on a roll. It was comedy hour with Mama Betty and her ex-husband’s secret daughter. Studying them, I realized they both looked a bit glossy-eyed. I sat straight up and leaned toward my mother.
“Are you stoned?” I asked, shock evident in my voice.
The two started cackling again, their faces turning pink.
“Are you serious?” I asked unnecessarily. They were high off their asses. “It’s not even nine am!” I scolded as I leaned back in my chair.
Ever since my mother had arrived, she’d seemed so fragile and meek. A tiny sliver of jealousy wove through me at the realization that Bea had played a significant part in making Mama so happy, but I tamped it down. All that really mattered was the joy she gave her, even if it was only for a little bit.
“Good morning, ladies,” Pepper sang as she gracefully drifted into the kitchen in her black satin pajamas and took a mug from the cabinet. “It is such a beautiful morning.”
I eyed her speculatively. “Is it?”
“It is,” she confirmed without looking at me as she poured her coffee. The night before, when I’d knocked on Bailor’s door ready to leave, there were shuffling sounds before a flustered Pepper slipped out the door, but I’d been so wound up from my conversation with Joe I hadn’t thought much about it. Now, as I listened to her hum as she leaned her back against the counter and took a sip of her coffee, I was st
arting to piece things together.
“Looks like everyone got laid last night but us, Betty,” Bea said dryly.
Pepper lurched forward as if someone had pushed her from behind and spewed her coffee across the room, splattering it all over me. My mouth fell open in disbelief as Mama and Bea roared with laughter.
“Pepper!” I shrieked as she held a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.
“I’m so sorry, Em,” she mumbled from behind the palm of her hand.
“It was that good, huh?” Bea went on igniting another round of laughter from my mother.
Mama didn’t even sound like she was breathing, she was laughing so hard. I scowled at her. “Really, Mama?”
Pepper began patting me down with a dishtowel as my mother finally let out a few phlegmy coughs.
“Oh, Em,” Mama choked out. “You’re a grown woman. I know you have sex. Don’t be embarrassed because I’m your mother.” She began coughing again and her face grew crimson as the laughter faded. She couldn’t stop coughing now.
“You okay, Mama?” I asked as I stood and moved toward her, but she couldn’t stop hacking long enough to answer me. When blood appeared in her hand, my heartbeat went into overdrive as I grabbed a dishtowel and tried to help her.
Pepper made a glass of water and handed it to me. Mama’s eyes were swimming with tears that had probably started with laughter but were now from lack of breathing. It took a few minutes, but she finally managed to take a few sips.
Connie appeared suddenly in her bathrobe and slippers, concern etched over her face. “I heard her coughing all the way upstairs,” she told us. “Betty we should get you back to bed to rest.”