The house is quiet when I walk in, and a light shines from the kitchen. I tiptoe down the hall to find Chloe sitting at the table, staring blankly at the papers and documents scattered along it. It appears to be work files, paperwork she was given last night regarding Claudia, Gloria, the accident, and bills. I stop mid-step when I notice what’s in her hand—a packet regarding funeral arrangements.
She chokes out a cry, unaware I’m here, and slams her hand over her mouth, as if it were a crime for her to break down. I hesitate before moving closer, and she takes in my presence in discomfort.
“Chloe, talk to me,” I beg.
She stiffens in her chair and avoids eye contact. “You don’t have to be here.” The words leave her mouth calmly but chillingly.
Where is this coming from?
Before she left for the hospital, she thanked me for being there for her and Trey. All of a sudden, in a ten-hour span, everything has changed.
Something happened.
I draw in closer and stop in front of the table. “I know, but I want to be here.”
She stands, almost robotically. She grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator and rests with her back against the cabinet. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”
“Feel sorry for you?” I throw back. “I’m hurting that you’re hurting. Your heart is broken, and all I want to do is help! To make you feel better!”
She throws the bottle across the room before thrusting her finger in my direction. “Fuck you! You wanted nothing to do with me before Gloria’s death. You came into my bedroom, fucked me, and then told me to get fucked! Don’t think you can step in here and act like you’re some hero. I can do it on my own! I can save myself. Now, I’m kindly asking you to leave.”
It takes me what feels like a minute to speak. “Chloe.”
She vacantly stares at me. “Leave.”
My eyes lock with hers. “I’m sorry.” Regret lodges in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I repeat, not moving any closer to her. “I’m fucking sorry for not allowing you to explain yourself. It was my mistake, and I’m willing to listen when you’re ready, but right now, right fucking now, that’s the last of my concern. Does that mean I’ll forget what went down? No, but you need a friend, and I’m here.”
That vacant stare turns into one of defeat. “No, Kyle, I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want anything to do with you or your family!”
I throw my arms up in the air. “Here we fucking go again with your fucking obsession with my family! The truth is out! It’s over now!”
She lets out a cold laugh. “No, it’s not over! You want to know why?” She advances my way. “Because, now that your father’s secret is out, your parents want custody of Trey. They can provide a better environment for him.”
Whoa. What?
“Who told you this?”
“Claudia.”
I scowl. “You’re believing her out of all people?” I rub at my brow. “Chloe, if my mother even considered taking custody of Trey, she would’ve told me. Claudia said that to hurt you.”
“Really?” She raises her voice. “Did she tell you she visited Claudia in the hospital?”
I slam my mouth shut. “No.”
“I saw them, Kyle! Your mom and dad were there!”
“Maybe for another reason. There’s more than one patient in that hospital,” I stupidly reply. “My mom does charity work there.”
Annoyance floods her face.
I scrub my hands over my face. “Chloe … we … this.” I’m at a loss for words. “Let me talk to my mother.” I can’t deny it because it sounds like my mother—always wanting to fix the problem and create a better life for someone. She sees Trey as a charity case.
She gestures between us. “This has to be done. Too much terrible shit has happened for us to ever have a healthy relationship. From what happened in high school to the secret about your father and now this. Too much damage has been done. We need to stop kidding ourselves that we’d ever work out.”
My heart rages in my chest. Is she fucking kidding me? “Or maybe it’s time to stop kidding ourselves and realize this can work between us. How about that, huh?”
She frantically shakes her head. “No. It’ll never work. I’m asking you to leave.”
“Chloe,” I beg, another attempt for her to understand what she’s doing.
“Leave!” she screams.
Anger crushes through me like a bullet. “Fine, keep pushing people away. Don’t be upset when you’re alone and nursing a broken heart for the rest of your life because you’re so goddamn stubborn.”
My words seem to add more power to her anger. “No, I’m being smart to stop my heartache. It’s time I stop letting people in. All I get is pain and hurt.”
“What have I done to hurt you? What the flying fuck have I done? I did something shitty in high school that I thought we’d moved on from. I said some stupid shit to you. Now, let’s take a step back and talk about what you’ve done to hurt me. You’ve done nothing but lie to me—about my father, about me having a brother I never knew about, about my father fucking your sister behind my mother’s back! I’m the one taking the risk with you, not the other way around.”
“And I didn’t know your mother would take custody of Trey!”
“Whoa, whoa. Who’s taking custody of me?”
I whip around and spot Trey standing feet away from me with a dumbfounded look on his face.
He whips his arm out to me. “Your mom is trying to take me away from Aunt Chloe?”
I hold my palm out and shake my head. “It’s a big misunderstanding.”
“It’s not,” Chloe counters. “I called the social worker. They’ve talked to her, and with your parents’ influence, cheating scandal or not, they have more power.”
Horror flashes through Trey’s eyes. “I’ll never live with anyone else. Fuck that.”
“Trey, watch your mouth,” Chloe warns.
He shrugs. “Ground me. Do whatever. I’ve already lost enough anyway.”
Chloe looks at me. “Kyle, please leave. It’s over. We’re over. Thank you for all you’ve done, but please, go home.”
“Chloe.” I draw out her name while fighting for the right words.
“Please,” she begs.
It’s too late. Even if I find the words, it’s done.
I nod. “Thank you for clarifying all I needed to know. I’m glad this meant nothing to you.”
With that, I grab my shit and leave.
29
Chloe
Smiles.
Funerals are full of them.
An entire range of smiles is what I’ve received today.
I never want to smile and thank someone for coming again.
The church is filled with people smiling while paying their respects. It should make me feel good for the support, but instead, it angers me. Most of these people didn’t care about her kind until tragedy hit. Parents are here, who denied their children playdates with her because of where she came from. Even Mrs. Garfield shoots me an apologetic smile, a hint of shame in her eyes, when it’s her turn to give her condolences.
Gloria’s casket is small, and the bright pink flowers Trey picked out lie atop it. She’s wearing her Dorothy costume, and her stuffed Toto is nestled at her side. I came early before the showing, sat in front of her casket, and apologized. I should’ve never trusted Claudia with her. Never. That’s on me. Our little Dorothy will be buried today because of my stupid judgment.
When I look at her, it’s a deeper cut into my heart, but I won’t quit torturing myself. Every heart-shattering glance is worth it because, after today, I’ll never be able to do it again. All I’ll have is photos.
Adjusting to life without Gloria is a mixture of emotions—denial, disbelief, anger, regret, and sadness. As she was the youngest, Trey and I made Gloria the priority of our lives, and now, she’s gone even though all the evidence of the space she filled in our hearts is everywhere.
Claudia put in a request to attend the funeral, but it was denied. Denied by Mayor Lane. She’s facing a long list of charges for Gloria’s death, including vehicular manslaughter. I haven’t visited her again and don’t plan to. Trey’s attitude hasn’t changed in the matter either.
I take a seat in the front row and look over to the corner where Kyle has stood since he came in. He’s kept his distance, but even that is comforting. I never doubted he’d show.
I catch a glimpse of his family a few rows back—including his father. Sierra reached out to Trey a few days ago, inviting him over to her house for dinner. I’m not dumb. They want to warm themselves up to him. He declined, but he was nice about it. It’s his sister, and he’s having trouble coming to terms with that. He lost a sister, and now, a new one is coming around.
I’ve felt guilt over my wanting custody of him. He’ll have more money, growing up as a Lane, but I can’t lose him. I’ve already lost Gloria, and I won’t survive another loss. I’m also not too selfish; if the time comes and Trey does want to live with them, I’d let him go.
I’d let him go because, unlike everyone else, it’s his happiness that matters to me.
I look over when Kyle sits down next to me. There’s been an empty chair there since I sat down. It’s almost as if no one dared to take it.
“Hi,” he says.
Him being at my side eases me.
“Hi,” I reply.
When the service starts and the tears hit, he grabs my hand. I squeeze it tight. Trey gives the eulogy, keeping his sobs together to say his words. I’m mentally and physically depleted when it ends.
“Thank you for coming,” I whisper as people clear out of the church.
“Always,” he says.
The three of us stand, and Kyle looks from me to Trey. “I’m right next door and not going anywhere. If you need anything—sugar, a friend, a hug—you guys come knocking, okay?”
Trey and I nod.
His offer makes me smile for a brief moment—something I haven’t done in what seems like weeks.
The loss of Gloria hits Trey the hardest when we arrive home.
He plucks a picture of her from the fridge, sets it down on the table next to the pizza we picked up, and stares at it, tears resurfacing. “I wouldn’t even dress up as a stupid scarecrow for her!” he says through sobs. “That’s all she wanted—for her big brother to go trick-or-treating with her—and I let her down because I was being a stupid hard-ass.” He ducks his head down in humiliation … anger … sadness. “God, what I’d do to have her back. I’d dress up as a scarecrow every day of my life. I’d do anything—anything—for her to be next to me right now.”
I get up from my chair, stand behind him, and wrap my arms around his shoulders.
I don’t know how long we cry and stare at her.
When Trey goes to bed, the pizza untouched, I tread into my bedroom.
Reality sinks through, drowning me like an anchor, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to reach the surface again. I slide down the wall, raise my knees, and slack forward. I want to break down in tears but scream out in anger. Every emotion for every shitty thing in my life is finally pouring out of me like an overflowing stream.
A knock on the door breaks me away from my thoughts, and I sniffle, wiping my nose with my arm. The door opens, and I hear someone walk in. I shut my eyes and release a breath at his scent.
“Trey let me in,” Kyle whispers into the darkness of my bedroom. I vaguely see his hand held out to me. “Come here.”
I shake my head. “I need to get this out.”
He nods, but instead of leaving, he slides down the wall and sits next to me. “Then, get it out.”
He doesn’t talk or touch me again. He sits there, assuring me I’m not alone, until I fall asleep.
When I wake up, he’s gone.
30
Chloe
Gloria’s funeral was two days ago.
I’ve kept to myself, and Trey has done the same—playing video games and Netflix-bingeing. My phone keeps alerting me with reminders to call the social worker regarding Trey, but when I pick up the phone to do it, I can’t. I’m scared. The fear of what she’ll tell me knocks back my energy into making the call. I’m biding my time until they come knocking on the door, and I’ll ready to fight like hell when they do.
My shoulders tense when I hear the doorbell ring, and my legs feel weak when I walk to the door. I question myself on answering when I look through the peephole, and worry seeps through me when I answer.
Nancy Lane is standing in front of me.
My breath catches in my throat while I wait for her to speak. I’m at a loss for words.
“Hi, Chloe,” she bursts out in a sweet tone. “Can we talk?”
I blink, and it takes me a moment to reply. “Sure.”
This is it.
This is where she tells Trey to pack his bags and leave me.
I lead her into my living room, and neither one of us is relaxed when we sit on the couch.
She cuts straight to the point. “I’m aware Claudia informed you that Michael and I felt it was in Trey’s best interest if we raised him.”
I grimace and ball my knuckles. “She did, and I respectively disagree.” I’m biting back the angry words I want to scream at her.
“It seems you’re not the only one.”
Her response surprises me.
“I’m sorry … what?”
Her eyes are glossy, and she places a finger underneath her nose as she tilts her head down. “I want to apologize.” She blinks away tears. “I’m sorry if I’m being too emotional. Kyle came to talk to me. He explained that you’ve been the sole caretaker for Trey, that, since he was a baby, it’s always been you. He asked me how I’d feel if someone tried to take my children away from me, and his words made me understand. My heart hurts if I caused you any pain. I only wanted to help Trey, but I understand now that helping him is having you. Trey can stay with you. Michael and I will not be pursuing any type of custody battle, and we have no issue with helping if need be—whether it be money, school assistance, anything like that. We’re here.” She sucks in a breath. “And, when you two feel comfortable, I’d love to get to know him. So would his brother and sisters.”
Tears fill my eyes. “Thank you,” I blurt out, my voice thick with emotions, so many damn emotions. “Thank you so much.” I pull in a breath and wipe away my tears before clearing my throat. “And I’m sorry … for keeping everything from you … and, uh … taking money away from your family.”
She shakes her head. “Honey, you did that for those kids. Michael told me he had the checks made out to you because he knew you’d do the right thing and that you stopped accepting them when you had enough money to help them yourself. You doing that, even against your better judgment, only further proves how much you care for them.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “And I am so, so very sorry about your loss.”
We’re both crying as we stand, and she wraps her arms around me before leaving. “My door is always open.” She hands me a piece of paper when we separate. “Here’s my number. If you need anything, Chloe, please let me know.”
I sniffle. “Thank you again.”
She gives me one last look before leaving. “Now, I understand why my son loves you so much.” She sighs. “With four children, I try to steer clear of their love lives, but Kyle cares for you deeply. He’s not perfect, and sometimes, he doesn’t think before he speaks. But he’s ready to take on every broken piece of you, and hopefully, you’re willing to do the same with him.”
31
Kyle
I’ve told Chloe good morning for the past week.
I’m not greeted with curse words or finger signals.
I get a small glimmer of a smile and a bowed head.
That’s it.
I should appreciate her lack of telling me to fuck off but don’t. It further proves every light inside her has dimmed.
My family’
s disdain toward Chloe has lowered. We sat down after the funeral and all came to the understanding that she’s not the bad person; he is.
I haven’t forgiven my father, but I am giving him credit for stepping up. When he realized my mother was finally going to walk away, it sucker-punched him. My mom ignored his infidelities before because they were hidden, but when they were released in the open, that did her in. Not to mention, he produced a child with his mistress years ago. My siblings and I had begged her to leave him, but she didn’t want to lose her family. I didn’t agree with her decision, but I accepted it because I love her. She asked us to work on not hating our father, so for her, I’ve tried to keep a straight face and not punch him when he’s around. But no matter what, I’ll never have respect for him.
I slam the door shut after getting into the car with Gage. He’s my best friend, but lately, he’s proven to be more than that. He was there for Gloria’s funeral, and that was a big step for him. Gage isn’t one who frequents funerals, especially children’s funerals, after what he experienced in Chicago. He came for me. He kicked away those fears for me.
He jerks his head toward Chloe’s house. “Have you gone over and talked to her yet?”
He asks this every day.
I give him the same reply every day.
I shake my head and rub at my eyes. If you don’t count my good mornings, then no. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“She hasn’t mentioned your mom’s visit to her?”
“No.”
“Use it as a conversation starter. Knock on her door and deliver the news as if you didn’t know your mom had paid her a visit. You wanted to make sure she knew.”
I blow out a breath. “I’m giving her time to grieve.”
“You are one patient man.”
“Hey there. New job?”
Trey is squatted down and sliding cans on a lower shelf in a grocery aisle at Garfield’s. The last time I saw him here was for shoplifting, and now, they’ve given him a job.
Vote Then Read: Volume III Page 44