Reckless Memories

by Catherine Cowles

  I couldn’t fight the twitch of my lips. “I don’t have a one-size-fits-all approach for my bars. And even if I did, it would be incredibly short-sighted of me not to listen to the person who’s been running this place for the past few years, the woman who knows the community way better than I do.”

  Bell straightened in her chair, a lock of hair falling out of her haphazard bun. “Well, that’s good to hear.”

  “I’m not here to take over and make your life miserable. I’m just here to help.”

  Bell’s gaze hardened. She opened her mouth to say something and then snapped it shut, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

  I had the urge to reach out, to round the desk, and pull her into my arms the way I had countless times before. To comfort her. Except I couldn’t do that because I was the one causing her pain. That familiar knife carved into my chest just a little bit deeper. I wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but I didn’t have the words. “I’m sorry” felt like the biggest cop-out imaginable. A pathetic Band-Aid for a lethal wound.

  In that moment, I would’ve given anything to take Bell’s pain away. I would’ve traded places with Vi in a heartbeat. I’d wished it countless times. Gone over the moments leading up to the crash so often that they were forever burned in my brain. I thought of all the things I could’ve done differently, all the things that might have meant that Vi was still here and Isabelle didn’t hate me.

  But I couldn’t rewrite history, and I didn’t have the words to make any of this better. I didn’t think any words had that power. But maybe I could help with the bar. Set Bell and my family up so that at least they weren’t drowning in worry anymore. It was such a pathetically small thing. But it was something. And something was better than nothing.

  7

  Ford

  I pushed open my SUV’s door and stepped out onto the grass in front of the house that hadn’t changed at all in the eleven years I’d been gone. Even the shutters were painted the same color. My chest tightened as I moved onto the brick path and strode towards the house.

  The front door opened before I reached the steps. “Hunter told me you were here, but I didn’t believe it. Not until now, when I saw you with my own two eyes. Get in here, baby boy!”

  Heat crept up my neck as I jogged up the steps. “Maybe we could cool it with the ‘baby boy’?’”

  She chuckled and wrapped me in a hard hug. “I’ve told you a thousand times. You’re my first—”

  “You’ll always be my baby boy,” I finished along with her.

  I pulled back but kept a hold of her shoulders. “You look great.” And she did. The dark circles that had lined her eyes the last time I saw her were gone. She had color back in her cheeks, and the worry lines that had pinched her brows were fainter now.

  She swatted my shoulder. “Your flattery will work every time. I’ve got some cookies cooling in the kitchen. Why don’t you head into the living room and say hi to your dad while I get them plated up?”

  I nodded, swallowing hard. The last time I’d seen my dad, he’d still had trouble with his speech and needed help walking to make sure he didn’t lose his balance and fall. There was something about seeing a parent, a person you’d always seen as invincible, struggle so much. It killed a little something inside you. I walked through the small foyer, heading for the living room, but stopped dead in my tracks. A familiar photo hung on the wall. Me, Violet, and Isabelle, arms wrapped around each other, smiling so widely you could see that Isabelle was missing a front tooth.

  The pain that shot through my chest was what I imagined it felt like to be hit by lightning. The blast was instantaneous, gone in a matter of seconds, but the aftereffects could stay with you for weeks. I squeezed my eyes closed, stepping away from the pull the photo had on me and into the living room.

  “Ford.” My eyes flew open at the sound of my father’s voice. He stood from his recliner, and I started forward, not wanting him to fall. He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to take a tumble. I’m doing much better.”

  “Dad.” My voice was hoarse as he wrapped me in a warm embrace, one arm thumping me on the back. When he released me, I studied him carefully. “You do seem a lot better.” There was a clarity in his gaze that I hadn’t seen since before the stroke.

  Dad eased back into his chair, gesturing for me to take a seat on the couch. That was new, but the recliner was the same one he’d had since my childhood. “I’m doing great. Just some weakness in my right arm. And I get tired a bit quicker than normal.”

  My mom scoffed from the doorway as she carried in a tray with cookies and three glasses of milk. “Don’t let him convince you he’s ready to run a marathon, he still needs plenty of rest.”

  He snorted in response. “The woman would have me napping every hour on the hour if she could.”

  “Heaven forbid I try to keep you healthy. You know if you die on me, I’m going to get one of those hard-bodied young fellas who like older women.”

  My dad straightened in his chair. “You will do no such thing, Kara.”

  She grinned, bending down to give him a quick kiss. “Take care of yourself, and I won’t have to.”

  I rubbed at my eyes but couldn’t help the laughter that escaped me. “I think I’m going to need to bleach my ears and my eyes.”

  “Oh hush, you.” Mom swatted my shoulder as she set the cookies on the coffee table. She eased down next to me on the couch. “So, where are you staying? We’ve got plenty of room here, you know.”

  Spending months at my parents’ house with my mother hovering would be more than I could take. I needed space and solitude if I was going to make it through this summer. The modern craftsman I’d found was perfect. Spacious, with a killer view. If it had been anywhere else in the world, I would’ve loved staying there, but it felt more like a beautiful prison. “I got a place up on the bluff.”

  My mother’s brows pulled together. “Does it have everything you need? What about food? You’re so used to being able to get takeout in the city. Maybe you should stay here instead.”

  “Now, Kara, the boy needs his space. He’s a grown man now.”

  I reached out and squeezed my mom’s hand. “I’ll be fine. I can cook for myself, you know. But I’ll be at the bar most days, so I can always grab a meal there or somewhere else in town.” I hadn’t done much exploring yet, so I had no idea how much everything had changed and what my options might be.

  My parents shared a look, and I straightened. “What?”

  Dad cleared his throat. “Have you seen Isabelle yet?”

  My jaw worked. “You mean Bell?”

  “I’m taking that as a yes, you’ve seen her.”

  “She poured a beer over my head.”

  My mom gasped. “What did you do to that girl to make her do that?”

  I bristled. Bell and my mom had always been close. Mom gave her the warmth and affection she’d never received from her own mother. Apparently, not much had changed. “I didn’t do anything,” I muttered.

  Dad scoffed. “She has one of the kindest spirits I’ve ever seen, you must’ve done something to get her so riled.”

  I twisted in my seat. I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut. “I think I just surprised her, is all. Hunter didn’t tell her I was coming.”

  “I am going to thump that boy upside the head the next time I see him. What was he thinking, not telling her you were coming back?” My mom stood, placing cookies on napkins and handing them to Dad and me. She was always one to busy herself whenever she got agitated.

  “Bonehead move if I ever heard one.”

  “Frank, don’t call your son a bonehead.”

  “You said you were going to thump him upside the head.”

  “I’m his mother, it’s my right.”

  “Well, it’s my right to call him a bonehead.”

  I couldn’t hold in my laughter.

  My mom’s head snapped in my direction, and her face softened. “I missed hearing that sound around her
e.”

  There was a longing in her voice, even though I was sitting right in front of her. The tone had my chest twisting, the guilt tying up my insides just a little tighter. “I’m sorry I stayed away for so long. I’ll come back more often now.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. Anything to ease the pain my mom carried. I’d figure out a way to deal with it. To be the son she deserved.

  “Oh, baby.” She sat down next to me, gripping my hand tightly. “I know this is hard for you. But I can’t say I’m not happy to have you home.”

  I swallowed hard. “It is. But I don’t want to hurt you because I’m weak.”

  “You are not weak.” My dad’s voice cracked through the room like a whip. “You went through a trauma, a loss. It’s understandable you wanted to avoid reminders of it. And all the damn small-town gossip.”

  I winced. I knew that had been incredibly hard on my parents. And the Kiptons hadn’t made it any easier, refusing to let me or my parents see Bell in the hospital. Threatening a wrongful death suit if I contacted any of them. It had just been easier to stay in Seattle, to slip away into the night and never look back. But it was also cowardly, and it was what let those vines of self-hatred take root. And they dug their claws in deep.

  I looked up at my mom. “How’s Bell doing?” The nickname still felt foreign on my tongue, but I was getting used to it.

  “You didn’t ask her yourself?”

  I set the cookie my mom had handed me on the side table, my stomach not ready for food—even one of my old favorites. “She wants to pretend we have no history. Said it’s best if we start from scratch.” Mom’s brow furrowed. “I get it, I really do. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to work with the person who was behind the wheel that night. I’m sure there’s at least a part of her that blames me.”

  My mom’s eyes bored into mine, gentle but searching. “Ford, if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that Bell doesn’t blame you for what happened that night.”

  “You didn’t see the pain in her eyes.”

  Mom sighed, her eyes misting. “That girl has been through way too much. Losing her sister. Losing you. Recovering from her injuries. It was weeks before the Kiptons would let us even visit her. And Bell didn’t understand what was going on behind the scenes. Didn’t know what her parents were putting you through.”

  “Wait, you told me Bell was fine. After the accident, you said she was okay.” It was one of the things that had allowed me to stay in Seattle, to not look back. Now, all I could see was Bell in a hospital bed, alone and scared.

  My parents shared another of their looks, but it was my father who spoke. “She was, and she is, but she had some injuries that required surgery, and her body was banged up. Her recovery took time.”

  Nausea swept through me. “You should’ve told me.”

  Dad’s face hardened. “Why? So you could blame yourself for one more thing? You were drowning, and I wasn’t going to throw one more weight your way. Bell is fine, she made a one-hundred-percent recovery, and she did it quickly.”

  I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “I get it.” I’d more than worried my parents that first year of college, merely going through the motions of life. It was my mom who had suggested looking at other schools, ones that didn’t hold the reminder of Violet and all the plans we had made. I’d ended up at UCLA the next year, and that had jumpstarted my life. Sunshine, classmates who had no idea of my grief…I’d reinvented myself, and it had worked.

  Mom squeezed my knee. “I hope you two will find your way back to that friendship you shared. You’re different people now, but your hearts are the same.”

  We were different people. And I was surprised by how much I hated that Bell was a stranger to me now. It felt wrong on every level. But I was the one who had turned her into an unknown entity. “I’ll try.”

  “Good. She really only has our family, Caelyn, and Kenna. Those parents of hers are worthless.” My mom’s tone turned fierce, a mother bear protecting her cub.

  “Are they still around?” They were two people I could definitely do without seeing.

  Mom’s lips pressed together in a firm line. “They are. And after everything they put Bell through, I’d like to drop-kick them every time I run into them.”

  My body tensed, muscles straining. “What did they put her through?”

  She shook her head. “More of the same, but worse. Trying to turn her into a mirror image of Violet. The pressure they put on her to be perfect…it just makes me so mad.”

  My body eased. I knew the Isabelle of yesterday, and the Bell of today could handle any pressure her parents put on her. She was strong, so fiercely and unapologetically unique. She’d never bow down and become what someone wanted her to be. But I knew that came at a cost, and the price was a close relationship with her parents. “I’m glad she had you through it all.”

  My mom rose, picking up cookie remnants and glasses. “And now, she has you, too. You’ll find your way back.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Some wounds were too deep. Some history too painful. You could forgive, but you’d never forget.

  8

  Bell

  “Bell!”

  I turned at the familiar voice, a huge grin on my face. “Mi, what are you doing here?”

  Mia’s strawberry-blond hair flew behind her as she launched herself at me. I caught her with a stifled laugh. “Cae-Cae said we could have dinner here tonight. And Kenna’s here, too!”

  I glanced over her head to see Kenna, Caelyn, and Caelyn’s other two siblings, Will and Ava. I blew a raspberry on Mia’s neck. “Well, isn’t that lucky for me? My favorite people all in one place.”

  Kenna sidled up next to us. “We thought you could use a little backup.”

  Mia looked at Kenna and then back to me. “Whatcha need backup for? Are you playing cops and robbers?”

  I laughed. “No, but maybe we should.” I balanced Mia on my hip and reached out to squeeze Kenna’s arm. “Thanks.”

  “You got room for all five of us?” Caelyn asked as she helped Ava out of her coat.

  “Always.” I pointed to a booth against the wall. “How about that one?”

  “Perfect.” Caelyn turned to Will. “Can you take the girls over and get them settled? Help them decide what to order?”

  “Sure.” He reached out to Mia, and she flung herself from my arms to his. She loved her big brother. My lips pursed as I watched Will guide them over to the booth and help them in. He was mature beyond his years. He and Caelyn hadn’t had a choice. But it hurt my heart to know that he’d lost his chance at a real, carefree childhood. Caelyn had tried to urge him to hang out with his friends, join sports teams, anything she could think of, but he spent most of his time at home with her and the girls, helping as much as he could.

  Caelyn arranged the coats piled in her arms. “So…?”

  I grimaced, glancing over my shoulder to the bar, where Ford was pouring drinks and chatting with customers. If he was unhappy to be here, he hid it well. “I’ve mostly avoided him.”

  Kenna snorted. “And how long are you going to be able to keep that up?”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Not long. He’s going over the books and the day-to-day details this week, but at some point, we’ll have to make a plan for the future.”

  Caelyn wrapped an arm around me and squeezed. “How’s your heart doing?”

  Cracking like a glass in sub-zero temperatures. “It’s better today.”

  “Good. I’m going to make sure the girls aren’t planning to order ice cream sundaes for dinner, and then I’ll come and check on you.”

  “I’m fine. I promise.” I had to be. There was no other choice. I’d get through this just like I’d gotten through everything else in my life to date.

  Caelyn headed for her siblings, and I turned to face Kenna. Her arms were crossed under her chest, and her brow had a slight arch to it. “Don’t bullshit me, Bell. How are you doing?”

 
I sighed, flicking a brief glance at the bar. Ford was grinning at a woman, and his forearm flexed as he handed her some sort of fruity concoction. I forced my gaze away. “I honestly don’t know. I’m all over the place. I feel like a bundle of exposed nerves.”

  “Bell…” Kenna lowered her voice so that no passersby could overhear us. “If this is too much, you can quit. We need a secretary at the accounting firm. Come work with me.”

  The idea of sitting behind a desk all day made me cringe. And the thought of leaving the Hardys in the lurch made me physically nauseous. “I can’t. I’ll get through this. Promise.”

  Kenna scowled in Ford’s direction. “Fine. Come on, I need a drink.”

  I smiled at the floor as we headed to the bar. Kenna made her way to an empty stool as I rounded the counter. “What’ll it be?”

  “Vodka soda with a lime, please.”

  “Coming right up.” I reached for the Grey Goose, my pour automatic and precise, the gift of having done this for so many years.

  “Come on, Brown Eyes. You can be a little more exciting than that.”

  I stifled a giggle as I watched Crosby scoot over a stool, beer in hand. Kenna’s eyes narrowed on him. “Kenna. My name is Kenna. One word, five letters. Is it really that hard to remember?”

  He grinned at her, and I had to admit, it was devastating. “Everyone calls you Kenna. I need something a little more original.”

  She rolled her eyes as she took the vodka soda I handed her. “I’d hardly call Brown Eyes original.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll keep working on it.”

  “Please don’t.”

  I couldn’t hold my laughter in anymore. “You two are worse than an old married couple.”

  Kenna turned her glare on me. “Like I’d ever stoop that low.”

  “You wound me.”

  I felt his energy before I heard his voice. It was heat and a faint buzzing. I kept my gaze focused straight ahead.

  “Hey, Kenna.” Ford rested a hand on the bar. It was at least six inches from where mine was placed, but I still had to fight the urge to pull away, to step back, to flee and never look back.