by Autumn Marks
“What do you mean?” Brandon asked. How could she even blame herself? She had nothing to do with it. She wasn’t even there.
“You don’t know everything about that night.”
Brandon noticed tears streaking down her cheeks and he wished like hell he could wipe them off for her. “You’re going to have to elaborate.”
“The autopsy revealed prescription pain medications in her system. She’d been taking my mother’s pain medications and I knew about it. I fucking knew about it and never said a word.” Emily’s voice sounded hoarse as she tried to speak around the tears. “I caught her once and she told me never to tell. Then once my mom found out the results of the autopsy, that was all it took for her to give up the fight. Those were her pain meds that killed her own daughter.”
Brandon stood firmly in place, his feet feeling like a couple of weights anchoring him to the ground. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as all other noises faded away. It all made sense to him now: Trina’s erratic behavior, her rapid weight loss, her anger toward him the night of the party. She’d mixed alcohol and prescription pain medications and, on her slender figure, it wouldn’t have taken much to do her in.
“But then when my mom died, I thought I’d killed her too because I never said anything about it. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t keep up with my schoolwork. My dad was really close to putting me in therapy, but I didn’t want that. The town already thought our family was tragic enough. He sat me down one night and through a lot of tears and hugs, he finally got it out of me.”
If this was supposed to make him feel better, somehow absolve him of his guilt, it wasn’t working. Instead, his heart broke for Emily. The torment she must’ve endured at such a young age… He knew what Trina’s death had done to him, but yet Emily had survived not one, but two deaths. She’d managed to come out on the other side and if she could get through that, she could get through anything. “Emily, I—”
“No, just shut up. That’s the part that no one knows. That’s the part that got left out. So if you want to blame someone, blame me. But that’s my cross to bear. I have to live with that. And you know what? I’ve forgiven myself for it. But if you want to let your past dictate your future, that’s fine. That’s your choice. I choose life instead.”
Emily breezed past him and headed for her car. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her arm, wanting to hold onto her forever, wanting to make her stay.
“I can’t let you leave. Not like this,” Brandon said.
Emily smiled a wry smile. “Don’t torment yourself. I’m not my sister. I’m not going to get into an accident on my way home.”
“Emily, please…”
She shook her arm out of his grasp and he could do nothing but stand there and let her go. He’d come here today to try and put his past behind him once and for all. He was choosing life and the only way for him to move forward was to say his peace to Trina in hopes that somewhere out there she might hear him. Instead, he’d driven away the one person he wanted to be close to once again. But he wasn’t going to let this be the end of them. Instead, he was more determined than ever to get Emily back.
Chapter 31
Brandon woke up the next morning determined to right where he’d gone wrong with Emily. He hoped she wouldn’t be so pissed at him that she wouldn’t listen to what he had to say.
But before he could do that, there was one more thing on his list he had to do—one thing that had really been sticking in his craw for most of his life. It was time to finally be honest with his dad. If he really wanted to make Brookview work, he knew he had to. There was no way he could stay here and hold so much resentment for his father. And he wanted to stay. Emily was worth sticking around for.
He hadn’t given his father all the facts and maybe things would’ve ended up differently for the two of them back then. Maybe not. He couldn’t change his past, but he could change his future. And he hoped that future involved his father—for as much time as he had left.
Brandon got ready quickly, took care of Ollie, then grabbed his leash and a ball from his toy basket. He’d called his mother this morning and promised to spend the day over there. It was the least he could do, seeing as though he hadn’t given his father more than a few moments of time over the years. Lilly was due to stop by her house later and that little ball of energy was just the balm he needed to snap out of it.
After loading Ollie into the car, Brandon glanced over at Emily’s house. Her car was gone, not surprising since it was a work day for her. He hoped she’d be around later because he planned on stopping by.
When he arrived at his parents’ house, he put Ollie in the backyard to sit on the patio and snooze in the shade there. Then he stepped inside and looked at his surroundings, this time with a different outlook on things. This time, as he walked through the house, he saw the kitchen counters and thought of the many times his father used to make Sunday morning pancakes for the family. He saw the steps and thought of the many times he’d bounded down them to see what kind of gifts awaited him on Christmas morning. Then, as he walked into the family room where his father was sitting with the TV on, he saw the fireplace and thought of how many sports trophies of his and Julie’s that used to line the mantel. Now, it was filled with family photos, including one of Brandon, which meant his father had been able to look at him every day, even while he was gone.
“Can I get you anything?” Linda asked. She stopped just short of the opening to the family room. Brandon assumed it was because she knew he needed to do this alone.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“I could use some more water,” Peter said from his reclining chair.
“I’ll get it, Mom,” Brandon said. He took his father’s glass and went into the kitchen with his mother and waited while she filled it up for him.
Her eyes said everything: concern, trepidation, sadness. Brandon could read it all and he couldn’t blame her. The last time he’d tried to do this, it hadn’t ended well. But the last time he hadn’t had an open mind. This time it was different. He wanted his mother to know he was okay with this.
“You should probably sit in on this too, Mom. You deserve to know.”
“What do you mean?” she asked as she handed over the glass.
“You’ll see.”
As Brandon stepped toward the family room, his mother hesitated, then followed behind him. Brandon placed the water glass on a side table next to his dad, then he and his mother took a seat on the couch while Peter stayed in the reclining chair. Peter turned off the TV when everyone was seated and turned toward Brandon.
This was it.
“You’re probably all wondering why I’m here today.” Brandon took a deep breath. “I feel like it’s time you know what really happened during high school. You both deserve to know why I was so depressed and why I couldn’t get out of bed most mornings.”
Brandon continued talking and told them everything about that night. He told them how he’d harbored so much guilt for most of his life. How he felt solely responsible for Trina’s death. Why he couldn’t say anything to them because he didn’t want an investigation. He’d told them that Emily had said other factors were involved which he wasn’t at liberty to talk about. But through many tears on his mother’s part and a few questions from his father, he’d gotten it all out.
Brandon stopped talking and waited for his words to settle about the room. They were out in the open now. There was no taking them back.
His father sat there and Brandon could’ve sworn his eyes were moist. “I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most. I wanted for you what I never had in life, so it pained me to see it thrown away like that. I wasn’t equipped with the tools necessary to handle your grief.”
“I wasn’t open with you either,” Brandon cut in.
“The circumstances don’t matter. You were hurting and I should’ve gotten you some help,” Peter said. “I hate that it’s taken me up u
ntil now to realize I made a mistake with you. I never should’ve told you to leave. That wasn’t what you needed.” He stopped talking long enough to wipe a hand across his cheeks. “And my behavior when you tried to come the other day was unacceptable. You caught me on a particularly painful day and I wasn’t ready for it. This cancer has made me see that I don’t have endless amounts of time left and I want to take what little time I’m given and make it right with you.”
“Are you in pain today?” Brandon asked.
Peter shifted in his chair with a grimace. “A little bit, but it’s manageable.”
“Can I give you a hug?” Brandon said.
Peter nodded. “Yes,” he choked out.
Brandon got up from the couch and closed the short distance to his father. Peter leaned forward and Brandon wrapped his arms around his shoulders and squeezed as tight as he was able without causing his father any pain. His father held on for a few seconds before letting go.
“I hate that you’re having to go through this,” Brandon said, referring to the cancer.
Peter shook his head. “I’ve come to terms with it. It just means that I have to make each day count.”
Brandon was getting ready to sit back down when his mom popped up from the couch. “You can’t leave me out,” she said, holding her arms out.
“I wouldn’t dare,” Brandon said with a smile, then hugged his mother.
Linda wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and checked her watch. “Are you guys ready to eat some lunch? I thought we could all join Ollie outside and cook burgers on the grill. Lilly won’t be here for another couple hours.”
Peter smiled. “That sounds great.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Brandon said.
Brandon arrived home that evening and saw Emily’s car in the driveway. Perfect. His confidence had been boosted after a successful day at his parents’ and he was ready to talk to her. He put Ollie inside, got him his dinner, and then gave him a couple of pets before heading out. Ollie looked up at him, not caring in the slightest that he was leaving because he was clearly worn out. Lilly had tossed Ollie’s ball for him probably close to a hundred times, and Ollie hadn’t seen that much activity in years.
Brandon closed the door behind him and made the quick walk across the yard to Emily’s house. He saw Mrs. Gordon on her front porch and since he was feeling good about himself, he threw her a wave before stepping up to Emily’s front door.
He knocked a few times, then waited. There was no sound coming from within.
He knocked again a few more times and pressed his ear to the door.
Nothing.
Was she avoiding him? Did she hate him that much that she would hide from him? His stomach sank. What if he’d really screwed things up and she would never want to see him again? It was a possibility—but not for him.
He knocked again, louder this time and when there was still no answer, he finally gave up and went home.
Chapter 32
“Why don’t you take tonight and think about it? You can call me tomorrow if you’d like to discuss making an offer,” Emily said, pasting a smile on her face.
God, she was sick of this. Emily loved her job, but did everyone now have to be a recently-married couple or madly in love? Four showings today and she’d had to fake a smile through all of them.
Then tonight, right as she’d been about to sit down to dinner, the Couple from Hell called to see if she was available for a showing on a vacant house. “Of course,” she’d said, hoping like hell her annoyance would come through. She’d walked to the home, knowing full well they weren’t going to make an offer tonight…or tomorrow. And they didn’t disappoint. They’d walked through the house, hemming and hawing, dissecting it all the way down to the studs, until finally, they’d given up on it and told Emily they’d think about it. Emily wasn’t stupid. She knew they were going to spend the entire car ride home talking about the house and how it wouldn’t measure up to what they had in mind.
As she walked up the steps to her home, Mrs. Gordon was out on her front porch, soaking up the last of the sun’s rays while drinking what looked to be iced tea.
“Good evening, Emily,” Mrs. Gordon said.
Emily wasn’t in the mood for sunny pleasantries, but she managed a small hello.
“Your boyfriend stopped by a while ago. He knocked on the door but I didn’t realize you weren’t home or else I would’ve told him.”
Boyfriend. That word alone was enough to send her over the edge. Brandon wasn’t her boyfriend anymore and she’d been doing so well trying to forget him. “Oh, so you weren’t spying on me for once?” she snapped.
Mrs. Gordon’s face twisted into a scowl. She picked up her tea glass and stormed off back inside her house, slamming the door with a resounding thud.
Dammit. A heavy, sinking feeling took root in Emily’s chest. She hadn’t meant for that to happen. The words had come out of her mouth without much thought and Mrs. Gordon didn’t deserve her malice. Mrs. Gordon wasn’t the problem, although Emily was tired of the snooping. Her anger was a result of a lot of crappy situations and she’d finally reached her boiling point.
Emily halted her steps and turned toward Mrs. Gordon’s house. She stepped up onto Mrs. Gordon’s front porch and knocked on the door, her stomach a little swimmy with nerves. She’d never had to have this kind of talk with Mrs. Gordon and she wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she’d get.
Mrs. Gordon answered the front door and Emily couldn’t miss the annoyance on her face.
“Can I help you?” Mrs. Gordon asked.
“I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to snap and I’m sorry I did. I’ve been having a rough time lately and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Mrs. Gordon’s face softened. “It’s all right, dear.” Emily heard a timer go off in the distance and Mrs. Gordon turned her head toward the noise. “Would you like to come inside? I just baked some cookies and I need to go fetch them.”
“I’d love to.” Emily stepped inside the older lady’s house while Mrs. Gordon rushed off to the kitchen.
“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch, dear. I’ll be right in!” she yelled from the kitchen.
Emily walked to what she assumed was the family room and sat down on a well-worn couch. The floral pattern was threadbare in spots where many people had sat over the years. As she looked around, pictures of all different people were scattered throughout, the clothes defining which era it was from. But in the years Emily had lived in her house, she’d never seen more than a couple people come in and out of the home.
Mrs. Gordon came in with a plate of cookies and handed Emily a napkin and stood while Emily took a couple of them. “I hope chocolate chip cookies are okay with you.”
“I think they’re great. Thank you so much for sharing them with me,” Emily said.
“It’s nice to have someone to share them with.”
“Are those your kids in the pictures?”
Mrs. Gordon nodded and got up from her chair to bring over some pictures that she plucked from a bookshelf. “My son lives in Florida with his family. One daughter lives in Colorado with her family, and my other daughter lives in Texas,” she said, pointing to each picture as she introduced them.
“Do they ever come and visit you?” Emily asked, even though she already could guess the answer.
Mrs. Gordon’s face became despondent. “No, their schedules keep them pretty busy. I’ve been to visit each one of them, but traveling used to be something Wayne and I did together. Since he died seven years ago, I haven’t had the desire to do it.”
That was when it came to Emily—Mrs. Gordon was lonely. That was the reason why she gossiped so much. She was desperate to feel some sort of connection to Brookview and it gave people a reason to want to talk to her, since no one seemed inclined to visit. As her neighbor, Emily should’ve done a better job of checking in on her. From now on, she vowed to do better.
“Mrs. Gordon, these
cookies are fantastic. May I have another?”
Mrs. Gordon’s face brightened. “Absolutely! Take as many as you’d like, but please, call me Barb.”
“I’d have you share the recipe with me, but I doubt I’d be able to make them as good as you.”
Barb chuckled. “You flatter me. But let me send a few home with you. I’m sure you must have things to get back to.”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t actually. If you’d like some company, I’d love to sit and chat.”
Barb’s face brightened which filled Emily with warmth. Emily leaned back on the couch and settled in for what she hoped was the first of many visits.
“Thanks for having me over,” Emily said as she left Barb’s house.
“You’re welcome anytime, dear.”
As she stepped off of Mrs. Gordon’s front porch, she made the short trek back to her house. She didn’t get much farther than her front porch steps before she saw Brandon coming out of his house.
“Emily, wait!” he yelled.
She thought about rushing inside and closing the door behind her. But as much as she wanted to shut him out, a part of her longed to see him. She’d had time to think about their encounter in the cemetery and she could understand why Brandon made the choice he did. In fact, if she’d been in his position, she might’ve done the same.
But that didn’t excuse him from lying about it. If they were going to move forward, she wanted complete honesty from him. Honest answers—nothing else.
Brandon caught up to her. “I tried to see you earlier but you weren’t home.”
“I know. Barb told me. I had a showing tonight that was close enough I could walk to.”
“Barb?”
“Mrs. Gordon. I spent some time over there this evening.”
“I thought you might’ve been ignoring me,” he said.
“It’s tempting. But I’m not like that. I prefer to face my problems head-on instead of running away from them.” A low blow, she knew, but it had just slipped out.