“Aves, promise me you aren’t gonna take responsibility for this.” Her damn lost and found, fix it all, gentle mindset . . . will be the death of me. She hurts, I bleed. She gets upset— I go to jail.
“I’ll try.” That didn’t sound too convincing.
“You don’t have a clue what you mean to me,” I shake my head. There aren’t words to explain it. She’s part of me. The better majority. She’s rooted into my soul. So deep I can’t remove her— nor do I want that.
“I do.” And those two words will be vowed to me in the future . . .
I’m exhausted. Fucking worn down. We’re coming off a three-day travel schedule and all I want is Avery, a bed, and food. Mason’s called and asked us guys to stop by so I hurry to change. Opening my closet to toss my shit inside, I’m stunned. The back wall has been transformed . . . by the one person who can evoke so much with a splash of color. Painting one wall a midnight color, she’s splattered white in a random pattern and ‘Love’ is scrawled in red. But that isn’t what draws my attention. I move closer and run my hand over it. As I thought . . . it’s 3D— raised and ridged within the art. The word is lifted in some parts, tapering off level with the wall in others; it continues, the entire wall tinged where there isn’t an image.
Standing, staring, and absorbing her feelings . . . it hits me. She’s as crazy as I am. I know she loves me, no doubt, but if it wasn’t mutual I’d say we were borderline unhealthy. Our dependency for each other isn’t unheard of, but it also extends to our circle.
Our tribe.
Our friends.
But with this— she showed me I consume her mind. And I get to see this reminder every day. A memento first thing in the morning . . . and at night. She positioned this gesture where it would get maximum impact. I don’t know how I’ll show her my appreciation because I don’t have the talent like she does but this won’t go unreturned.
Chapter Seventeen
Summer is close . . . we’ll be juniors next year. Scratch that . . . some of us will be. Lee Lee graduates this year, opting for an Associates’ Degree and I’m proud of her. Besides her unwavering faith in Mason, she’s doing good. Caden leaves his driveway, heading to see Mace and I spring into action. I bound inside Breck’s room and pull her from her funk. “You can quit avoiding the yard and come sit outside with me. He’s staying at his parents until the end of semester and the guys left to visit him.”
“Brody, too?” I can tell this upsets her but I won’t let her fret.
“Um hmm.” I grab her hands, hauling her ass to the front yard. “Saylor and Emberlee are coming over with the kids. We need some sunlight.”
Saylor and Lee Lee juggle baby shit and kids as they head over. Julie darts in front of them and plops herself in Breck’s lap. “You see my Unca Mace?”
I hold my breath with her response and wish she’d see how great they are together— Julie still associates them as one. Maybe they aren’t today . . . but they can still have a future.
After pouting from Julie, Brecklynn distracts her by taking her inside to find the lollipops Mason’s hidden in our houses.
As soon as they return I get Kinsley placed in my arms, Breck gets Darby and Saylor warns us. “Keep an eye on Julie, we have to go get their stuff.” They return with what I’m sure is the entire stock of a baby store and inform us what all the stuff is and how much babies need. I let them school me and pretend I’m clueless. Brecklynn isn’t as smart and after a descriptive blow by blow— literally— of their diaper horror stories, both moms look smug.
Everyone is settled and Saylor asks us, “What’s everyone doing for summer?”
It hits me . . . so much has changed. “It’s so weird. We used to plan our summer trip after Christmas break but college seems to have us going different directions. I think the phrase ‘best time of your lives’ is code for ‘changes are upon us.’” I don’t fault anyone for progressing with their lives but it seems we’ve fit ten years into two.
“I’m working. Full time this summer. I decided to beg off summer session.” Brecklynn informs us.
“I’m taking art classes at the community center.” I smile. I can’t wait to do nothing but paint all day and maybe volunteer with the youth camp.
“I’m raising tiny humans and taking advantage of grandparents.” I laugh at Saylor’s gloating.
“I’m enjoying my last summer before I’m a member of the working class.” Lee Lee working . . . surreal.
“I’m so proud of you!” I clap my hands and give her a side hug, filled with pride seeing how at ease she is handling Darby.
Saylor frowns. She had to cut down to part time this semester and I know it bothers her. And Emberlee shows me her growth as a person to have that intuition— and encourage Saylor. “You’re the most determined girl I know. It’ll happen. But I know, next week after graduation, I’ll be begging my mom to keep this one overnight and,” she turns to Breck, “you might want to cover your ears. I’m checking into a hotel room and celebrating my six-week hiatus. I’m getting laid, ladies.”
I laugh as Brecklynn turns green. She takes one for the team and offers babysitting duties to both moms . . . which reminds Saylor she isn’t cleared to romp between the sheets.
Our conversation sobers when Saylor admits to talking to Mason . . . and it takes a turn towards violent. Brecklynn and Emberlee are having a pissing match of who did who wrong, throwing past indiscretions in each other’s faces, dropping some colorful language and Saylor has to take Julie inside. And Emberlee crosses a line . . . fuck that, she didn’t just cross it, she bypassed all warnings, slid into it headfirst and keeps truckin’. “Imagine how he felt. He’s been on that field since he was four years old. He postponed majors for his friend and education. It was ripped from him and you go gallivanting around an island. Think about that. If you couldn’t take pictures anymore how would you feel?”
“Fuck you, Emberlee.” Brecklynn stands and leaves— returning with her bag. With each insult and truth she hurls at Emberlee, she throws a piece of her equipment and it shatters as it crashes into the cement. The last is her camera and I cringe. “This is as important to me as the glove is to your precious Mason. But the difference is, I don’t value it above those I love.” It’s lying in pieces . . . but she isn’t done. I can’t keep track of everything she’s breaking and I’m powerless to stop her. She needs this but she’ll regret it. And I’m ready to kick Emberlee’s ass. Her parting shot stuns us. “So, if my picture taking offends you so much you can fuck right off.” She locks the door and I’m staring in her wake.
“This is why we can’t have nice things.” I stare at the shards of glass littering the driveway.
Laughter erupts . . . something we don’t do enough of late.
“That was foul, Lee Lee.” Saylor jumps to defend Brecklynn.
“How? I told the truth.” Fucking Bitchy Barbie is still alive in Emberlee.
“No, you didn’t. You told your truth. What you’ve chosen to believe.” I snap . . . and I’m nowhere near done but that bitch interrupts me.
“Come on, Avery. It’s Mason.” Take your blinders off, Lee Lee.
“You’re right. It’s Mason and I think that’s what makes it so hard. Reliable. Clown. Fun loving. Savior. He’s all those things . . . but he’s human.” I make a mental note to reiterate this conversation to the Pope when I schedule my meeting. “I’m mad at him. I’m mad at myself. Mason is our go to guy. The fixer. So he needs help and we can’t save him . . . because he doesn’t want to be saved. Imagine if that was Brody.” I turn my glare to Saylor. “Or Deacon.” Her eyes bug and she retreats. “We love him but they were in love. There’s a difference and imagine you weren’t able to pull the one you love through something like this. He turned his back and chose pills over her. That’s a hard pill to swallow. So, as much as I forgive him, I understand her.”
“Pretty insightful.” I know she’s being snarky . . . it’s her defense so she doesn’t have to admit the truth.
&
nbsp; “Lee Lee,” Saylor snaps and I’m glad she stands up for herself. “Stop. I agree with you. I berated Deacon. I fought with him days after we had our first child but we’ve been blinded by our feelings and what Mason is going through, that none of us have stopped and thought how Brecklynn is doing. Remember when you thought Brody discounted your feelings . . . knowingly or not— Mason did more that.” Amen sister. And the truth shall set you free.
“So, one mistake and she’s allowed to turn her back? That isn’t what we do.” Delusional Debbie is still flapping her gums.
“She didn’t turn her back. She listened to his explanation but that’s all they were. Excuses. She took him to his parents — do you know what that did to her? She couldn’t breathe when she got home. The night she witnessed him with that baseball bitch . . . my fucking heart broke for her. Her pain was contagious and I ached as I held her tight, stopping her from splintering in pieces. She didn’t discard him but she has to protect herself. I think we’re all guilty of that.” I wait for her to pull her head outta her ass . . . it wasn’t so long ago Emberlee was content to destroy others for her selfishness.
“It’s okay to love him and be mad at him. It’s okay to be his friend and hers. There aren’t sides here. I know how you feel . . . Mason is there for us no matter what and it bothers us we couldn’t do the same for him but it isn’t a reflection on us. Or him. It’s a circumstance and how we deal with the repercussions is what’s a reflection on us.” Saylor helps me and I force myself to remain calm . . . this could be our outcome if they knew Caden and I were together— if things went sour we’d find ourselves choosing sides.
“I want to fix it. All of it.” Lee Lee cries.
After she sees the light and error of her fucked up ways . . . all is calm in the world— or my front yard. Except I have an upset roommate and Lee Lee made her mans’ sister cry. I hope she exercises her jaw . . . I’d hate for her to get a cramp with her apology.
“I hope you have your keys.” Saylor inserts her wit. I giggle, and reach over and slap Emberlee’s thigh, making my hand sting and her leg red.
“Hey!” She shrieks and I decide to impart another bit of wisdom . . . before I find a way to break into my house.
“No. You can’t say whatever you want if you aren’t looking at both sides. You realize she broke every piece of camera equipment she has and has a job this summer?” It clicks. “Yes. You and Brody had money issues not so long ago— you think Breck can pull money from her trust fund and replace it?” I’m heated as I stare at her. “You don’t think she’s dying each day? Every night I listen to her crying, each morning I watch her stare out the window for a glimpse of him so she knows he’s okay. But this isn’t her fault. This is his. And if you admit it to yourself you’ll see I’m right. What did she do?” I fight for air. “She loved him. What did he do? Broke her fucking heart. Yes, argue with me it was the pills . . . but it doesn’t change the facts. He hurt her. He cheated. He broke her trust and her heart. You just reiterated that.”
“God, I’m a bitch.” She’s shocked with that revelation.
“No arguments here. Fix it.” I demand.
“Wow, bossy. David needs to give it to you good.” Saylor pinches me. “We’re all high strung. Let’s take it down a few notches.”
“I agree.” I stand up and glower and have an epiphany of my own— I need a time out from people. Especially the ones taking space in my driveway. Not the cute bald ones . . . or the adorable toddler— the other two can go pound sand. Grabbing my phone I dial Breck and I’m thankful she answers. “Hey. Open the door so I can leave these assholes outside.”
“Hey. We need help with all this stuff.” Emberlee calls.
“Get resourceful.” I purse my lips and when the lock clicks I push through and slam the door. Locking it for good measure. And flipping it the bird. Brecklynn laughs until she cries and we both get a pint of ice cream. “I’m gonna ask Caden to install a smart lock.” I declare.
“A what?” She furrows her brows.
“It’s a front door lock thingy you can open with your cell phone. I saw it on an infomercial.” I nod thinking it’s a great idea. “That way you can’t lock me out again.”
“Oh, we should get that doorbell thing so we can decide if we want to answer the door.”
“Yes.” I agree. “And with the door lock thing nobody will have a key. They have to have one assigned by us and we can limit access. Suckers.” I’m giddy with spite.
Ruthian: We’re gonna be a bit. I think we’re over the hump.
ME: Okay. We had a come to Jesus meeting minus Jesus showing up. All is good here but I need some sorta lock on my door that makes my house a fortress.
Ruthian: To keep the monsters out?
ME: Lee Lee would be upset if she knew you called her a monster.
Ruthian: That girl.
ME: Loves us. And ditto. But I can’t complain. Because of her I’m gonna get Sainthood.
Ruthian: Are you Catholic and didn’t tell me?
ME: Don’t ruin this for me.
I throw my phone to the couch and seek Breck. “Come on. It’s a night for bad karaoke and cheap wine.” I don’t give her a chance to respond. I set up the machine and pour wine in tumblers . . . they may be twenty-four ounce tumblers . . . it saves trips for refills. I’m nothing if I’m not a great fucking friend.
We may be shitfaced and singing ‘Peter Pan’ by Kelsea Ballerini way off tune when Caden and Deacon walk in— driving home my point of needing a new lock. “You’re interrupting our girls’ night.” I think I may be slurring.
“Oh, please continue.” Deacon pulls his phone out— to record I’m sure— but I ignore him and continue serenading the neighborhood, with my cohort. Oh shit . . . Sam Hunt’s voice croons through the machine and this is my jam. All of his songs are.
A cat shit in my mouth and a mariachi band moved into my head. That new lock will be installed today because I don’t have a cat and I didn’t invite the band to take up residence in my head. “Here.” Caden’s lips at my neck are my refuge.
“What?” I croak.
“Tylenol and water. There’s juice, too, but I don’t know if you can stomach that.” He has humor in his tone and I don’t like it.
“What happened?” It hurts to talk.
“You need to stop buying five dollar wine.” He scoffs.
Snob. “No. I need to drink more of it— build a tolerance.”
“Okay Gladys Knight.” He loses the battle and his chest vibrates with his laughter. I’d be more comparable to a Mariah Carey level— circa before she lost her mind— but I’ll take his compliment. Even if he’s being a smart ass.
I close my eyes and see the headline:
Avery Michaels named Saint. Join us in celebrating the month of October as her patron saint month. Saint Avery hails.
Chapter Eighteen
I smile as I listen to her snores. Yesterday was a good day . . . but hers won’t rate the same as mine. I’m sure of it as her whispers of saints, and October tickle my ear . . . and she’s correct. She’s my savior . . . my saint . . . and after all she’s endured with our secret she does deserve a month to be honoring her. But thinking back to our time with Mason yesterday . . . I think all this secrecy will be over before we realize it. He’s gonna be fine.
“You ready for camp?” Deacon is setting his unease to the side and seeing this is still Mason . . . our best friend.
His parents have set up a few camps for him to attend this summer— although he isn’t ready to pitch full force, he can learn some skills.
“Yeah.” I watch him throw with less heat than normal but it’s still a beautiful curve ball. “That felt good.” His grin is quick and my happiness is welcome.
“Perfect form.” Brody studies him like a trainer . . . “I think he still has it boys.” I know it’s tough for him to set aside his feelings . . . his sister was crushed in this mess.
“Hell yes he does. He’s Mason-fucking-Adler.” I fist bu
mp Deacon while taunting Mason.
“Emberlee’s parents are throwing her a graduation party and she wants you there.” I settle to my stance to give Mason signals as Brody drops this bombshell.
“I’m there.” He scratches the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “If you’re good with that.”
“I am. I don’t know if Brecklynn will be. I’m trying to refrain from beating your ass.” I guess the walking on eggshells part of this day is over.
“I wouldn’t stop you.” Mason drops the ball and glove and faces him. “I wish you would.”
“It sucks. Embe would kill me and I’m sure Brecklynn would finish if my girl didn’t succeed. But, it’s my job to defend my sister. I can’t reconcile it.” He isn’t comfortable discussing his feelings— he’d rather punch Mason and that’d be the end of it.
“Do it. Hit me.” Mason edges closer to Brody and I stand.
“If you’d hurt her with purpose I wouldn’t hesitate.” Deacon and I move to create a barrier between them, but I’m not sure if we shouldn’t let Brody hit him and stop the turmoil. “But what you’re putting yourself through and what you did to your body . . . it’s worse than a black eye.”
“Whoa.” Deacon lets his loyalty to Mason intervene. “Defending your sister is honorable but it’s done and over.”
“DD— it’s all good.” Mason shoves in front of us . . . begging to be hit. “I won’t tell the girls if you want to punch me.”
“Nah.” Brody grins and shakes his hand. “Loving her and losing her . . . you’re punishing yourself. I don’t know if I want her to give you a second chance but if anyone deserves it, you do.”
Fighting Fate (Endgame #4) Page 19