Twist Into Me

by Devon Ashley

  And then there was Nana. My staying here and helping her until she went would be in her best interest. I guess it just came down to whether or not I’d want to stay once she was gone. But maybe I really didn’t need to make that decision now. I could just wait for that particular point in time and decide in the moment what was best for me moving on.

  I groaned and smashed the extra pillow over my face. My brain just wouldn’t shut off.

  At midnight I received a text from Owen demanding my presence. Had Sarah gone and done that, I probably would’ve flipped her the bird using some type of emoji and stayed in bed. But for some curious reason – call it sleep deprivation, if you will – I actually dragged myself out of bed and went.

  “So why am I here at this ungodly hour?” I mumbled, still completely dazed even though I had driven over here. I collapsed onto my back and laid on the slope of the hill beside Owen. At least I thought it was Owen. It was pretty dark out, but this particular patch of darkness seemed different than the rest, and it was right about where I expected him.

  There was a symphony of nightly sounds going on – chirping crickets, melodic hoos, the whistling of gentle winds – but I heard the softest of chuckles play out beside me clearly.

  “Don’t you remember the summer meteor shower? We used to watch it every year. Right here.”

  “Oh, yeah…” My eyes immediately took in the specifics of the night sky, seeking out the specks that were actually moving at a speed we could see with the naked eye. “Always right before I had to leave.” It pretty much signaled the end of my time here. I was always waiting in anticipation for the Perseid Shower to get here, but always sad at the same time, knowing it meant it was time to go back to a life of unpredictability with my mom.

  Random streaks were scattered in the darkness, but I knew it could still be hours before the sky really came alive.

  “It seemed appropriate that we continue the tradition.” I noticed a hint of disappointment in his tone.

  “I might not be leaving.”

  His head lolled toward me, probably waiting for me to add to my somewhat cryptic statement.

  “I mean I’m considering staying here and applying to CU. I’d have to wait until spring, but I think it’s worth it if it means I can stick around and help Nana. I worry about her sometimes. She seems tired a lot.”

  “She has gotten a little slower,” he agreed.

  “And it’d be nice to stay put and feel like I have a home for once. I’ve spent too much of my life on the move. I’m not going to lie, I’m not even sure I know how to stay put at this point.”

  “But you think you’ll stay anyway?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I think it’d be good for me and good for Nana.” Only question was, for how long?

  “Good,” he said, his hand suddenly finding mine in the darkness, cupping it from above. Quietly, he added, “Too much has been lost already.”

  For a while we lay in silence, watching the spectacular sky above us with its ever-changing display of artistic expression. For once my brain completely calmed down, allowing me peace of mind for the first time in a long time. But as I became tired, thoughts began to work their way back in. Thoughts of my mom. Of Nana.

  Of Brady.

  With a heavy sigh, I said, “We need to talk about him, you know?”

  Owen’s head rolled my way again. My eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness, so I could see the expression absent on his face, the slightest depression lying in wait. “I know it hurts,” I said reassuringly, “but that’s exactly why we need to. We need to talk until it no longer hurts to bring him up anymore.”

  His tongue moistened his lips before turning his attention back to the sky.

  “Brady was never one to talk about it.”

  “Yeah? Well Brady wasn’t over the loss of your parents, either. He was in constant pain.”

  The way his head cocked momentarily in my direction made me wonder if he believed me or not.

  “The tiniest things would remind him of your mother and bring him down. I’m not saying that not talking about it is the wrong way of dealing with loss, but it sure didn’t do him any favors in the long run.

  “I don’t want to be like that. Constantly feeling the loss. A part of me is always going to hurt, always going to miss him and wonder about all the what if’s that could’ve followed if he hadn’t died, but I don’t want to carry the pain with me forever. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled, extending the word on top of a long exhalation. “I talked a little with Lis after both my parents died. I tried to talk to Brady about it, but he wouldn’t do it. Told me he was fine. Said he was dealing in his own way.”

  “I don’t think he really was. I think he was just putting on a strong front for you. His way of being the protective older brother.”

  “If he was, he succeeded. I thought I was the only one having a hard time.”

  “What do you miss most about him?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if he’d answer. Owen had always been so private and quiet. At least this summer. As much as we had hung out this past month and leaned on one another, I wondered how much he’d feel comfortable really sharing with me.

  “What do you miss?” he countered.

  I thought on it while I gazed upward. “I miss…the way he made me feel inside. Like I was alive for once. I dated two guys when I was at college, but neither of them made me feel the way he did. He made me look forward to tomorrow.”

  And now I had to face all the tomorrows without him. And it made my heart feel suddenly heavier, the air thicker and harder to breathe. But for once I wasn’t tearing up.

  “I miss having a partner for everything,” Owen told me quietly. “I could always count on him to back me up.”

  It must’ve been nice having that. Especially when they were growing up. Always someone to hang out with, travel with, back you up when you were outnumbered. I’d never know that particular feeling. I never even had a friend step up and be that person through the years, but I guess my odds in that were limited since I never got to stick around long enough to really make one.

  But I was in Campbellsville now. The only real home I’d ever had. With a few friends who could possibly be that person for me, and me for them. If I was going to stay, I’d have to put more effort into being the kind of friend I wanted for myself.

  “You know you can lean on me, right?”

  “Yeah, I know. But it’s not the same.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I admitted sadly. But I must’ve been doing something right, because he seemed to be getting lost in the flow of conversation. I slowly smiled to myself. We needed this, and if we were lucky, tomorrow when we woke up, life wouldn’t seem as hard or as daunting as it did this morning.

  “So what happened to the kayak? Is it still here, because I didn’t trip over it on the way down here.”

  “Sent it back. Didn’t seem right to keep it.”

  “You going to get another one? Maybe a single?”

  “Nah. Kayaking was more his thing anyway. I’d rather have something to go fishing in.”

  My mind immediately went to the one memory I had of fishing, which wasn’t that long ago. “I’ve only been fishing once, and unfortunately I fell off the boat when some massively huge fish pulled on the line.”

  Chuckles burst from his chest.

  “Are you seriously laughing at me right now?”

  “No, I’m laughing with you.”

  My eyes tightened, but they were hardly visible to him. “I’m not laughing.”

  “Sure you are,” he rebutted, giving my hip the slightest shove. “Was it this big?” he mocked, using his hands to measure an invisible distance that was ridiculous. I responded by smacking him back, hitting his arm with a blind swing. “You hit like a girl,” he added.

  “Lucky for you. Otherwise you’d be unconscious right now.”

  That only made him laugh louder. I moved to hit him again, but he snatched my forearm. Next thing I knew, I couldn’t
stop wiggling and crying out as he tickled the sensitive part of my hips. My only defense was to pinch his thigh right above the knee as hard as I could. He yelped and released me, his body jerking upward into a sitting position. Hands up, he offered, “Truce?”

  I eyed him skeptically, wondering if a trap lay in wait. My body refused to drop my defensive stance as I debated.

  “All right. Truce.” I cautiously lowered my body the same time he did his. Our scuffle had eliminated all space between us, so several spots on our sides were brushing. To make room, we both tried to move our hands behind our heads at the same time. We awkwardly hit each other on the way, getting us to stupidly laugh some more.

  “Just come here,” he mumbled. “You never had a problem touching me growing up.”

  His arm wrapped around me and rolled me into him. I settled my cheek onto his shoulder and allowed myself to get comfortable as he did the same. I figured that whole ‘keep your enemies close’ thing totally applied right now, and though my eyes were set on the sky, my brain’s attention was focused on the tiny distance between his hand and my nearest ticklish spot.

  School had officially begun this week, so there was no backing out of my decision to stay in Campbellsville longer. For the first time ever, it worked to my advantage that I had so few belongings. I had brought everything I owned with me, so I had nothing to go back to California for. And I had given the news to Francie, who was both disappointed and happy for me, but who was sure student housing had a waiting list to fill my dorm spot. She was hopeful she’d get someone decent, and I felt bad for bailing on her so last minute.

  I knew it was early, but I went ahead and completed the enrollment paperwork and submitted it to CU for a spring transfer. Now the only possible barrier in my way was whether or not they accepted me.

  I spent my days working with Nana in the shop full time. During downtime, she showed me all the other things she did that the business required. Bills, ordering, payroll for ourselves and the part time delivery guy. Next spring she would show me how to go about filing taxes. For now she just showed me where she stashed the information for past years and the monthly reports and receipts for the current year. I wasn’t going to lie – it was a little overwhelming getting an eyeful of so many things that were over my head. The most I’d ever done in way of taxes was the 1040EZ form.

  On late Friday afternoon, Matt of all people walked through our main door. Curiously, I went to meet him and said, “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Hey, Tessa. Not much.” His eyes scanned the shop, his hand hands burrowing their way deeper into his jean pockets. “How’s it going?”

  “As good as it can I guess. You?’

  “Not bad.”

  “So what brings you in?”

  “I was thinking I’d like to get something for Sarah. It’s our two month anniversary tonight.”

  That took me a little by surprise. I was sure my eyes were probably a little bright-eyed when I replied, “Oh.” Had it really been two months already? I remembered they dated a few weeks before officially becoming a couple. Right before Brady died – almost two months ago…

  My stomach soured, just realizing that the anniversary of Brady’s death would always line up with Sarah and Matt’s relationship anniversary. What an awful reminder, and I wondered if either of them had put it together yet.

  “Well, not to discourage you from getting anything, but someone like Sarah doesn’t need an entire bouquet of flowers. I think you’d get a better reaction out of her if you had dinner in and showed up with a six pack of those various craft beers to try. Seems more up her alley.”

  “Yeah. Huh… That’s not a bad idea. Thanks,” he said, tapping the outside of my arm once, like he felt contact was necessary to say goodbye, but was afraid to hug me or something.

  “Hold on before you go,” I said, holding one finger up. I went to the back and into the cooler, pulling out a few leftovers we had for a special order that were various mums and roses in wicked colors – black and dark burgundy. I bunched them together and wrapped a black ribbon all up the stems and tied it off to bind them together. Cute, if I did say so myself, and definitely something Sarah would like.

  I took it out to Matt, who looked pleasantly surprised. “Just in case,” I said with a wink. “Sometimes a few flowers go a long way. Especially the right ones.”

  “Wow. Thanks. What do I owe you?” he asked, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

  I held out my hand and replied, “Don’t worry about it. They’re extras.”

  “You’re sure? Thanks,” he said again. After a moment of silence, he asked, “So how’s Owen doing?”

  I tipped my head with curiosity and crossed my arms. “Aren’t you guys talking?”

  “A little. I don’t want to suffocate the guy. I lost my best friend,” he said sadly, “but losing a brother’s got to be worse.”

  I slowly nodded my agreement. “You should call him,” I said. “He’s doing better. It’d be good for him to get out of the barn and do whatever guy stuff you guys used to do.”

  He matched the speed of my own nod. “Yeah, alright. I wasn’t sure. He’s been…well, you’ve both been missing some Thursdays.” He forced a smile, and I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or his own. He was right, I had bailed on a few; so had Owen. We were going to have to do better with that because it seemed our friends might be interpreting our absence as us pulling away. Which we weren’t.

  Gently waving the bouquet, he added, “Thanks for this again. I never would have thought these colors were possible. It’s like rock chick.” His smile became more genuine.

  “You’re welcome. Hope you guys have a good evening.” Matt turned and headed out. “And you don’t have to be a stranger,” I told him, getting him to stop just shy of the door. “Owen and I may not be great yet, but we’re doing okay.”

  “Okay,” he said softly, slowly. “I’ll see you later then.”

  Since it was close enough to closing time, I locked the door behind him. There was plenty that could still be done in the shop, but rather than allow my mind to dwell over depressing thoughts about me and Owen and Brady, I headed upstairs to check on Nana. She’d gone up a while ago but hadn’t come back.

  The first floor was completely still, lifeless almost. I made my way up the stairs, finding her in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed, staring out the window.

  “Nana?” I asked worriedly.

  She turned to me and sighed, her features appearing more weary than usual. Even her wrinkles seemed to sag more this afternoon. “Tessie,” she said by way of answer, only able to offer a lazy half smile. Her attention returned to the outside world.

  I sat down beside her and wrapped my arm around her, taking in the view as well. Her white polka dot sheers were so thin they barely filtered the view. We both had Main Street views, so we saw the tops of several facades from buildings across the street. I’d never taken the time to really look before, my attention always on the street when I did, but the detail and craftsmanship that went into some of the fronts were spectacular.

  I sensed movement in Nana’s lap. I hadn’t even noticed she was holding a photograph of her and my mom, when she was a young teenager. It was the oldest photograph in Nana’s room of my mom age wise. She really rebelled during her teenage years, doing all sorts of things she shouldn’t have. She was only sixteen when she got pregnant with me.

  “Reminiscing?” I asked without judgement.

  Her hands tightened around the frame. “I just don’t know where I went wrong.” Her eyes began to swell with tears, and she breathed in through her nose to clear the pathway that was trying to block itself up. “I know losing her daddy when she was young was hard on her, but we went to church every week, she had good friends, made good grades, had good morals. And then one day I woke up and a different baby girl sat before me. I didn’t recognize my own daughter. To this day, I still don’t know where I went wrong. Where I failed her.”

  “Nana,
you didn’t fail at anything. You raised her right. Mom’s the one who chose to turn her back on that life.”

  Her silence made me think she didn’t believe me. “Sometimes people just change. For better or worse. You practically raised me the first several years and I turned out okay.” Despite the crappy life my mom made for us…

  “It’s a wonder you turned out this way, Tessie. With no one to guide you, or teach you. Living that awful life with no one to truly care for you and watch over you.”

  “I did have someone who taught me,” I replied softly, nuzzling my forehead to her temple. “You. I may have been across the country but I remembered the things you taught me. I remembered what a good life felt like and I strived to get it back. You did that. You were my North Star, Nana. You.”

  Her hand reached up to cover the one I rested on her shoulder. “You have no idea how long and hard I fought to get you back here. I missed you so much.”

  There was no stopping the rain of tears for either one of us. “I missed you too.” I embraced her in a tighter hug and held on until our bodies had a chance to calm themselves, our shirts soaking up the relentless tears. When we were finally ready to separate, I swept the remaining moisture off my face and stroked my hands on my jeans until they were dry. Looking to the frame in her lap, I asked, “What made you focus on that old thing?”

  Nana released a heavy breath, standing to return the photo to her dresser, next to several others. “Missy left me a message today. Rather hurtful. I guess I was trying to remember a time when we had better days.”

  “I’m sorry, Nana. She shouldn’t be taking out her horrible life decisions on you.”

  “Or you,” she added, pulling a tissue from the box to blot her eyes and cheeks. Crying might have been painful at the time, but it did wonders for her now. Her skin was soft and dewy and she seemed a little refreshed. I did too, for that matter.

  I stood and joined her at the dresser, my fingertips grazing the tops of the picture frames as I glanced from one to the next. A few were baby pictures of my mom and then me. Grandpa Joe, who I never got to meet. Pictures of Nana through the years, including a silly pic of her with Rose and Helen, all wearing those large Kentucky Derby hats and lined up pretending to do a kick line at the race.