The Last Exhale

by Julia Blues

  I pull up to Drew’s house, ring the doorbell. No one answers. I knock a few times. Still no answer. I walk around to the side of the garage, peer through the window. Two cars are parked inside. Back at the front door I ring the bell again. When no one answers, I take out my spare key and let myself in. “Drew,” I call out.

  A woman comes down the stairs with her finger pressed to her lips. “He just went to sleep.”

  I look around the house, look for my sister-in-law. “Where’s Melissa?”

  She reaches out her hand. “I’m Laura, one of the teachers at the school with Andrew. You must be Brandon. You look exactly alike. Wow.”

  “We’re identical.” I refrain from shaking hands with her until she tells me why she’s in my brother’s house.

  “I know this looks crazy, and to be honest, I’m not sure what’s going on. All I can tell you is that Andrew called the school yesterday to see if someone was available to pick him up from the hospital. He said there wasn’t anyone else he could call. I picked him up last night after our school’s end-of-the-year program.”

  None of this makes sense. I was only gone a few days and it seems like the world has turned sideways. “Where’s his wife?” I ask again.

  She shrugs her shoulder. “No one’s been here since I brought him home last night.”

  To be clear, I ask, “You stayed the night?”

  “He just had surgery and can’t walk. I wasn’t going to leave him alone.”

  I grab my wallet out of my back pocket, remove a few twenties, hand them to her. “Thanks for all your help. I’ve got it from here.”

  She puts both hands in the air as if my money offends her. “I won’t take your money. Andrew’s a good person, a good friend. I’m glad I was here for him, since he obviously couldn’t call on anyone else.” She grabs her purse from the sofa, picks up a few books from the coffee table. “He’ll need another dose of pain killers in a couple of hours.”

  Once Laura vacates the premises, I walk up the stairs to check on my brother. The way his face is smoothed out tells me he’s in a deep sleep. No emotion is riding his face. His coworker made it sound like he was up here in distress.

  I pull up a chair next to his bed and wrack my brain trying to figure out what the heck happened while I was gone.

  • • •

  “What are you doing here?”

  “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

  “Man, calm down.”

  I realize I’d fallen asleep in the chair. Forgot where I was. After watching my brother for a little while, I decided to walk through the house to see if there were any clues. The one thing that was consistent was the absence of Mel’s things. Her side of the closet was empty, drawers were bare. No makeup in the bathroom, no trace of feminine toiletries. Pictures of her were gone. Even pieces of furniture were missing.

  I sip from the bottle of water I brought up after my tour, let it moisten my throat. “I met Laura.”

  “You say that like it’s something to it. At least she was there for me.”

  “Are you cheating on Mel? Is that why all of her stuff is gone?”

  “You’ve been snoop—Damn.” He moves too quickly, grabs at his leg.

  I reach for the pills next to the bed. “How many of these are you supposed to take?”

  He snatches the bottle from me. “It’s too late to care.”

  “How was I supposed to know you’d have surgery while I was out of town? I went to the hospital as soon as I got your message.”

  Two pills and a glassful of water go down his throat. He leans his head back on the pillow slowly. “Where’d you go?” The pill container snug in his hand.

  “We can talk about that later.” I watch the tension grow in his face. “Are you in pain?”

  “Won’t feel much once the Oxycodone kicks in.”

  The way he popped those pills makes me think he’s trying to take himself out. I take the container from his hand. His strength is too weak to fight me. “Where’s Mel?”

  “Look around. You tell me.”

  “Stop with the mind games.”

  Andrew stares at the ceiling, a tear glides from the corner of his eye.

  “Talk to me, bro. Both of us can’t fall apart.”

  “She left.”

  That much is obvious. I dare not say that, though.

  “She took me to the hospital, kissed me before I went back to surgery. When I came out, no one was in the recovery room. No one came to my room for two days. I called her phone; she changed her number.”

  I know my sister-in-law and brother had been having a little trouble lately with trying to have a baby. Had no idea it had gotten to a level where she was willing to walk away, and at a time when Drew needed her the most. “Was not being able to have a baby that serious?”

  He reaches underneath the pillow next to him. An envelope is in his hand. He passes it to me.

  I unfold the letter, read its words.

  Melissa couldn’t handle the pressure of taking care of him. The way the first accident paralyzed him was one thing. This accident and the second knee surgery was too much. She wanted to be free to enjoy life and felt like she’d be stuck in the house with a crippled man. She realized how much of her life she sacrificed by trying to live up to the life he told her they were going to have. Since none of it happened, she took the accident as her way out. She’d recently come in contact with a man from her past. The love they once had for each other resurfaced. He was worth her leaving her marriage for. They had history. In high school, she had been pregnant with his child. They were too young to be parents. They gave the child up for adoption. Giving the baby up caused them to grow apart. They resented each other and couldn’t handle the pressure of being together. When their paths crossed recently, because she and Drew hadn’t had luck in the child department, she took the opportunity to run off with a man she already had a child with. They wanted to go on a search to find the child they gave up. She knew all of this when she married Andrew, but didn’t feel any of it was important to share with him. She’d never been able to stop thinking about this guy and the life they would’ve had had they kept their child and stayed together. She felt like this was the perfect opportunity. She didn’t want to be tied down to two broken men, her husband and his brother, so she left. She dropped eleven years with her husband in the trash like it was the wrong piece of mail.

  Born minutes apart, and again, both of our lives falling apart.

  I want to pop some pills, lie in the bed, and forget it all right along with my brother.

  65

  SYDNEY

  After picking the kids up from my mom’s, we stop by Publix on the way home to get a few things for dinner. Kennedy wants tacos. EJ wants tacos, too, just because that’s what his sister wants. I tell them both, “No tacos tonight. We’re having spaghetti.”

  Frowns appear on both of their little faces. “But, Mom,” Kennedy starts.

  “But nothing. Now grab your brother’s hand and get us some garlic cheese bread, please. I’ll be right over in the produce section,” I say as I push the cart toward the right.

  Before I can even bag up tomatoes for the sauce, Kennedy comes running in my direction holding a man’s hand. “Mom, look who I found.”

  He’s shaking his head trying to find a way out of being mistaken for somebody else. “I guess your daughter gets her eyesight from you.”

  I blush at the memory of how we first met and also from seeing him again for the first time in months. “Kennedy, this isn’t your teacher.”

  Still holding his hand, she declares, “I know that. Mr. Carter has a worm on his chin. This is his twin brother. Don’t they look just alike? He used to always tell us about him.”

  Who am I to take away her joy? This is the happiest she’s been in a while. “A worm on his chin?”

  “Yeah, a scar from a car accident some years ago,” Brandon shares.

  Oh great. No telling what scars he has from the car accident our affair caused.
My eyes search his for any indication of… “Kennedy, where’s your brother?”

  She looks around the vicinity and comes up short. “He was right behind us.” She lets go of Brandon’s hand and runs back to the freezer section. I’m right on her heels.

  He’s not where she left him. We scour the aisles, yelling out his name. Causing a panic all around. Brandon is with us. Both of us were so caught up in our brief reunion that everything else was forgotten, including my kids.

  “Is this who you’re looking for?” a young guy in black pants and a green shirt asks shoving a four-foot something in our direction with chocolate smeared across his face.

  “Mommy, look what I got.” He holds his hand out with remnants of what was once a candy bar.

  “Thank you.” I nod at the grocery store employee.

  I reach inside my purse and pull out a pack of hand wipes. “Clean your hands before you get any more of that goo on your clothes.”

  “And get it off your face, silly,” his sister adds.

  “That’s why you didn’t get any candy, silly,” he retorts.

  Brandon watches us without saying anything. His eyes stay on EJ. I’m sure his mind is on his son, probably on the family he should have. He blinks away the memories.

  “Mr. Carter, is Mr. Carter still going to teach?”

  Her teacher didn’t make it back by the time school ended for the year. There was talk that he was supposed to be coming back when the new year started. From the frown that crosses Brandon’s face, I guess that was just talk.

  “I’m not so sure, young lady.”

  “I hope he does. I want him to be EJ’s teacher.”

  EJ chimes in. “Yeah, me too.”

  I can see discomfort in Brandon’s face. I mouth the words, “Are you okay?”

  “Well, it was nice meeting you, Kennedy and EJ.” He reaches down and gives both of them a handshake.

  “Will you tell Mr. Carter hi for me? Tell him I’m sorry for what my daddy and Uncle Mike did.”

  Brandon looks up at me, “Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

  • • •

  Seeing Brandon flooded me with emotions I thought had long gone. Just as innocently as my daughter brought him over, what him and I shared began as an innocent gesture. We helped each other fill the empty spaces in our lives. Made each other laugh, made each other feel needed. Seeing him again brought all of that back, brought back why his presence in my life came to be.

  Soon as I get the kids settled in, I head up to my room. I dig my work phone out of my purse, scroll through the contact list until I come across Rene Ortiz. I hit send. It rings twice.

  “Was hoping you’d call.”

  My insides feel like I’ve climbed to the top of the highest rollercoaster and am on my way down the longest descent. I had saved Brandon’s number under his wife’s name. Had to make sure if my husband was ever inclined to browse through my phone, he’d find nothing. “Hi.” I take a breath, wait for my heart to make it back to base. “How’ve you been?”

  He doesn’t say anything, makes me think he’s giving himself a minute to gather his bearing as well. “What we did, we shouldn’t have.”

  I close my eyes, let his words sink down to my soul. “I know.”

  A season ago, I slept with a married man and defiled my marriage. Just like the seasons change, a lot changed in my home as well as a result of my actions. Life didn’t just change for me, they changed for him, and they changed for others who didn’t make the decision we did.

  “We can’t take it back. This is what we have to live with.”

  “I’m okay with that, Brandon. I wouldn’t want to take it back.”

  A shallow breath escapes his lips. “Me either.”

  I put my hand on my chest, try to slow my heart from beating so fast. “Can I see you?”

  “Sydney, I’m not going to lie, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I care about you, but—”

  “No buts. It’s not right, I know, but—”

  “No buts.”

  What am I doing? Seeing each other again—on purpose this time—wouldn’t be good. Wouldn’t be right. He’s got to move on with his life. Being with me would only be a reminder of a void I couldn’t fill and never would be able to. “Are you still running?”

  “Nope.” He chuckles. “Only did that to try and get close to you.”

  “Oh, and now you’re pushing me away?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I was just messing with you.” I press my lips together. Do that to give me pause before I say too much. “I’m sorry for all the chaos I brought into your life.”

  “No need. It was a mutual effort. If you’re sorry, then I have to be. And I’m not. I did what I wanted to do.”

  It’s what I wanted to do too. I didn’t want what all came with it, though. Don’t think any of us ever do. All we want is to have a moment when we feel nothing but the pleasure of that moment. We deal with everything else afterward.

  I was his mistress.

  He was my should’ve, would’ve, could’ve.

  That’s the reality.

  Another reality is I ran from ending up like my mother and ended up just like her. I’ve become the lonely woman. My heart aches for the man on the other end of this phone, but there’s nothing I can do to mend his pain. I tried once. What good that did. Sleeping with each other didn’t do anything about our situations. Continuing it would do the same. Nothing. I can’t do this.

  I hold the phone close to my ear, my other hand pressed against my chest. “You take care of yourself, Brandon.”

  66

  BRANDON

  It’s funny how we always talk about communication being important in a relationship, but the reality is, none of us are communicating.

  Sydney couldn’t talk to her husband. I couldn’t talk to my wife. My brother’s wife couldn’t talk to him. And so the story continues.

  A few days ago, after running into Sydney and then getting a call from her, I did entertain the idea of continuing what we had started. Her ending the call was the best thing she could’ve done, done for her and for us. Seeing her with her kids put it all in perspective. She had a family and needed to put her focus on them. If she was going to end her marriage, it wasn’t going to be because of me. I was going to tell her that, then the conversation started going in a different direction. For a moment, I again put my needs at the forefront of my mind and got off track. I don’t know what was going on in her mind, but it was a thought we both needed.

  “Remember this?” My father hands me a box.

  Inside is my old camera, the one he took from me in high school that caused me to get in lots of trouble for going missing in action. “Man, do I.”

  “You were more attached to that thing than Linus to his blanket.”

  Going back to those memories brings a smile to my face. Holding the camera in my hand also makes me think of Hilda in St. Thomas. Brings another smile to my face. Maybe we should’ve exchanged info after all. Who am I kidding? We’d just be two broken people trying to put the wrong pieces together. I think about Sydney. As with everything else in life, she’d soon become a distant memory. A faded picture in an old album. I glance at the top of the camera to see what the number is. I’d only taken fourteen pictures when the camera was taken from me. I cut it on, aim it in my father’s direction, press down on the black button.

  “There you go again.”

  Funny how he took it from me years ago because it was a distraction. Gave it back to me now only for it to be another distraction. “Doesn’t take long for an old habit to be revived.”

  “Speaking of…” He removes the camera from my hands, places it back in the box. Takes a seat on the chair next to me in the basement, puts the box behind him. Out of reach and out of sight. “You and your brother need to work this thing out. As you’ve both been witness to, people come and go, but you two will always be there.”

  Andrew and I made the drive to our parents’ home
in Houston—the home we grew up in—a couple of days ago. After Mel left, I stayed with him at the house. Helped him nurse his knee back to where he was able to stand with only the need of a crutch. His pill-popping count was decreasing, though his drinking increased. That was when I threw some clothes in a suitcase and dragged him into my truck. He’d have plenty space to stretch out and elevate his leg when needed. It was a thirteen-hour drive we both needed, at least as far as getting out of a place where too much pain existed. The only time he talked to me was when he had to use a restroom or wanted something to eat. Other than that, my conversation went ignored. We weren’t okay as brothers, but we were working on being okay with our circumstances.

  “Dad, that’s going to take some time.”

  He reminds me again of what I’ve been witness to as of late. “Time isn’t always on our side.”

  It was true. I thought I’d have forever to watch my son grow up. Thought he’d be the one to bury me. Thought I’d have forever to love my wife. Thought we’d die together. I’m sure my brother thought the same about his wife and the kids he promised they’d have.

  “The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” He repeats a familiar scripture in the Bible. The last time I heard those words was from the minister at Rene’s funeral. My father grabs the box from behind him, stands up, hands the camera back to me. He grips it tight, not allowing me to take it. “Make peace, son.”

  There’s been a lot over the past few months, and even over the last few years that I don’t understand and probably never will. One thing’s for sure, though, I’m slowly learning to have peace with where I am at this very moment. And sometimes, that’s better than understanding.

  I tell him, “I will.”

  67

  SYDNEY

  “Love is patient and kind. Love doesn’t demand its own way.”

  I put a hold on my nightly ritual, stop rubbing lubricant into my feet. Give Eric my attention. “Where’d you hear that?”