by Kali Brixton
No movement.
No honey-dipped words sung out in a deep Southern drawl.
Nothing.
My friend was gone.
I sat on the edge of the wingback chair, arms hugging my body tightly, tearfully watching as they transferred her to the gurney. She got her wish after all: going peacefully in her favorite chair, staring at the horizon. It’s almost like she was patiently waiting to greet the angels who came to usher her into Heaven. Tranquility was her final expression—a farewell fit for so grand a lady.
I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until a warm pair of arms enveloped me from behind. I didn’t have to look, I didn’t have to breathe in his scent… I just knew it was him.
Without looking in his eyes, I pivoted my body until I could wrap my arms around the trunk of this human tree. Last night and all its worries faded away, this life-altering moment taking its place. I held in all the emotions I felt—held them in so tightly, as if they were the only thing holding me together, like seams stitched to keep me from unraveling. I felt the weight and warmth of one arm leave my back, and I thought I had been given a nonverbal cue that comforting time was over. Instead, a heavy hand gently rested on the crown of my head and began to stroke down my loose strands. The arm still resting on my waist constricted and began to cradle me. And when I felt the warm tenderness of his lips on the top of my head, I buried my face in his chest, tightened my grip on both sides of his shirt, and let my seams come unraveled. “I’m sorry, Sunshine.”
I could only reply in tears because they were the only currency I had left to spend.
The service understated but elegant. People from far and wide came to pay their respects to a woman who had touched the lives of many with her benevolent kindness. She didn’t want the fuss of a funeral parlor, only wishing to be placed on the small at the back of her property, which overlooked the sunrise. After the funeral, I went back to her house to make sure everything was secure as the traffic of everyone had many coming and going in her home over the last couple of days. Her son Carrington said he would be back in the coming weeks to start packing everything up and getting it ready to be put on the market. It hurt to think that this piece of my heart would no longer be mine to visit in a few months, but for now, I’d soak in all that I could.
A big black Chevy was sitting in the driveway on my arrival, and a familiar figure perched atop the porch steps, arms braced on his legs, tie loosened, and his black hair wild from a finger comb or ten. He looked lost. I should know—it was the same look I had looking in the mirror this morning. Daddy had told me via Mom to take some time and work from home, knowing Elsie’s death would hit me hardest of her adopted grandchildren. But walking up to the man whose lost gaze had found mine, I knew I wasn’t the only one who would be nursing a broken heart for a long time. I still had four days until I had to give Caz my answer, but with the last few days as involved as they were, my thoughts were far from him at the moment.
I sat down, folding my skirt under my knees, and brought my arms around them. Our arms brushed slightly, sending tingles down mine. “How are you?”
“Probably about as good as you.”
I sighed, “That bad, huh?”
“I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Neither can I.”
We sat there in companionable silence for a few moments, letting the sounds of summer wrap “I was looking through her letters last night...” he stared off in the distance, searching for his next words. The hurt was still so fresh from her passing, I couldn’t find it in me to care that at least he read one person’s letters sent to him, even though mine went unanswered. “And I realized that she knew this was coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“While I was away, she kept me updated on everyone—you included,” he nudged gently. I briefly wondered why he couldn’t have just reached out himself, but this wasn’t the time nor place to have that conversation. “In every one of her letters, she mentioned things to remember when she was gone.”
“She was 95.”
“Age doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No, it does not.”
“But, there was a letter she sent that stuck with me when I reread them all.” A long breath was drawn, the hurt on his face mirrored in my heart. “She told me that time was a privilege granted to some, with a few having more grains in their glasses than others.” That sounded just like her: speak in parables to deliver the simple truths which escaped a person’s notice. “In the end, she asked me what I was gonna do with the grains I was given.”
He held out his hand, waiting for me to place mine in it. I laid mine in his carefully, waiting for his answer.
“And I realized what I wanted to do with the rest of the grains was spend them on someone else. Someone”—he brought my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on it—”who makes my world better by just existing in it. Someone who gives a little bit of her light to everyone around her.”
I wiped the stray tear rolling down my cheek and felt my heart tug at his words, cherishing every one of them.
He placed my hand in both of his and closed them around it. “I messed up the other night.” I stayed quiet to let him process through what he wanted to say. “And I’d like another chance to prove that I’m worthy of your grains too.” I started to speak, happy to give him one because that’s all my heart knew how to do when it came to this man, but he stopped me. “But, I want to do it the right way. There are a lot of truths I still need to tell you. Things you need to understand about why I’ve done what I’ve done.”
“Okay.”
“Will you come over tomorrow evening and have dinner with me? So it can just be us? So I can say what I need to say—show what needs to be shown?”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.” He gave me a gentle kiss on my temple and kept his face close to mine. “Tomorrow night then. At 7?”
There was nothing better to say than a contented It’s a date.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Deacon
It was a few minutes before seven, and I had put the finishing touches on the house. Candles. Flowers. A decadent chocolate ganache cake that was generously provided by the bakery in town. I would have tried to bake one, but the last disaster led to Merritt banning me from using the oven. A fun movie if we wanted to laugh, a romantic movie from Grey’s collection if we didn’t want to watch anything but each other. I didn’t know what this evening had to offer, but I would willingly accept it if it meant Charlotte Kasen would be mine after tonight.
I heard a knock on the screen door and Jesse panting. I walked out of the living room where I was trying to calm my nerves by fluffing pillows—like it was necessary because who judges a person’s house by unfluffed pillows anyway? I rounded the wall and drew my brows together, confused and worried by the sight before me. “Nikki?”
Charlotte’s best friend was standing before me, wringing her hands, her big caramel eyes staring at me. I ushered her in, her movements nervous, and her pacing making my skin crawl. “Is everything okay?” Please don’t say Charlotte’s not coming. Please tell me she’s all right so I can breathe again.
Pacing stalled. “I—I…”
“What’s wrong?”
Pacing resumed. “I. I need to tell you something…”
“What is it?” I put my hands on her shoulders to stop her.
“I know you’ve done a lot for me over the years.” Huh? “I don’t like charity, but I’m grateful that someone has looked over me for years.” So, she’s finally figured it out. Wait ‘til Grey finds—“I know it was you.”
Car doors closing.
“Nikki, wait. You’ve got the wrong—”
I looked over her shoulders to see Charlotte coming up the steps, greeting Jesse with her free hand as she held our main dinner dish with the other. I couldn’t help but feel immense joy at the sight of her.
“I’m tired of always trying to be strong. I—” She put her hands on my
face and drew closer. “I just want to feel something—anything—other than this emptiness inside.”
Charlotte
I pulled into the driveway and retrieved the dish from the back seat. Chicken and noodles—Deacon’s favorite. I looked over and spotted Nikki’s car, and I worried something might have happened. I didn’t tell her I was coming over here, so maybe she’s looking for Grey and didn’t find him at home.
“There’s my sweet boy.” The warm smile I had given my favorite dog in the world slowly faded. I didn’t know my mouth was open until I heard my own gasp at what I was seeing: my best friend had her arms around the man I loved, kissing him, his hands on her arms, holding her close.
My mom’s favorite casserole dish landed with a loud splat and the chicken and noodles I had just made for him desecrated his new welcome mat.
Deacon
Stunned. I was stunned. Why the fuck Nikki had her lips on mine was a fucking mystery, but I couldn’t move because I was in shock. I snapped to, grabbing her arms, and prepared to remove her lips from mine when I heard a small gasp and the sound of glass hitting wood.
Fuck. Me.
I pulled Nikki back enough to look over her shoulder to see a blonde ponytail and a blue dress hightailing it down my porch steps.
“Charlotte!”
I flung the door open, stepping over the steaming yellow mess that Jesse was sniffing with curiosity, and ran after her. I reached her car as she was closing the door and turning the ignition.
“Sunshine, don’t go. I don’t know why—”
Her face was forward, one hand on the steering wheel, one on the gear shift—two hands getting ready to take her away from me. “Don’t! Just don’t.”
“Charlotte, you can’t leave.”
She turned her face towards mine, green eyes made more jade by angry red rims. Tears streamed down her face, making those soft pink cheeks scarlet. Her lip quivered as she whimpered out, “Move.”
“Please don’t go. I don’t want you driving like this.”
“Why do you care?” she half-laughed. “You have a guest to entertain. I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”
“Charlotte, I didn’t know—”
“Stop.” Tears were now flowing freely. “Just leave me alone and go back to her.” She started her car and put it in drive before I could argue any further. I ran my hands through my hair, my heart aching because my girl was hurting. I wanted to follow her but knew I couldn’t until I got some fucking answers myself.
“Shit!” A big rock skittered down the driveway from where I kicked my boot.
I made my way back to the porch where Jesse had lost interest in the jumbled mess of chicken and noodles laying across the landing. He stared to the right where the girl I loved with everything in me had just driven away, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake. He whimpered loudly, disappointed that he wasn’t going to get fussed over by his favorite girl. His big brown eyes turned to mine, and I saw the hurt there that he no doubt felt for Charlotte. Me too, old friend. Me too.
I walked back into the house, where Nikki stood, her hands dropping from her mouth.
“Deacon, I—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She looked at me with shock tightening her pretty features. “I shouldn’t have—”
“No. You shouldn’t have.” I hit my fist against the doorframe, causing her to jump. “Dammit, Nikki! What the fuck did I ever do to you?” Silence spoke louder than words as did those big brown eyes, welling with tears—tears that could fall forever for all I cared because she just stabbed my girl and me both in the back. “Why would you do this to her? She’s your best friend, for fuck’s sake!”
“I ca—I thought…”
“You know, I don’t care what you thought, Nikki. You have royally fucked up everything. I finally convinced her to give me a chance, and now that’s gone to shit.” A harsh breath left my mouth at the thought of the other repercussions of this mess.
“Get out.”
She mumbled a tearful I’m sorry and hightailed it out the front door. The screen door slammed shut and I heard Jesse grumble as the pitter-patter sound of her shoes retreated.
“Damn it all to Hell.” I ran my hands through my hair. One vehicle pulled out as another one pulled in—one that I wished to God would have kept driving. His baseball cap pointed in the direction of the girl who just broke three hearts, including his.
“Hey, Jesse.” Grey stopped to give Jesse a few pats on the head before he strolled into the house. “Dude, what’s with your hair? It looks like the mess on the porch."
“I am not in the mood right now, Grey.”
“Point taken. Why was Nikki leaving here in such a hurry? I passed by Charlotte on my way in and she didn’t even wave.” A slight pout formed on his face. “Were you having a dinner party and didn’t invite me?”
“You need to ask fucking Nikki that because I don’t have a damn clue.”
“D, you need to take a chill pill and calm down.”
“How am I supposed to calm down? Charlotte’s never gonna speak to me again.”
“What happened?”
I raked my hands through my hair again, ready to pull every one of those fuckers out by the root. “Who the hell knows?” I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air and letting them smack my thighs loudly on the way down. “I go answer the door, thinking it’s Charlotte, and fucking Nikki’s standing at my door, looking like someone broke all her favorite paintbrushes.”
“Quit calling her that and tell me what’s going on!” Anger and confusion tempering his words.
“Charlotte was supposed to come over so we could finally talk and now everything’s thoroughly fucked.”
“I get that, but what does it have to do with Nikki?”
“I answered the door and she mumbled something about being tired of not feeling anything…”—Here comes the kick in the gut—"And she kissed me.”
His face turned to ash and stone. “Why the fuck would you kiss her?”
Oh hell no. “I didn’t do anything! It was all her.”
“That’s bullshit! Nikki won’t even let anyone hug her, but Mom, Dad, and Charlotte.”
“Grey, I’m telling you: I’m as fucking clueless as everyone else.”
“So, Charlotte saw you kissing her—”
“Her kissing me.”
“And left.”
“Pretty much.”
Grey stood there, looking at the door, one hand on his hip and one rubbing his forehead. “So, the girl I’ve been chasing for years—years—decides to come over here and just randomly kiss you?”
“I don’t know how else to say it, Grey.”
“Fuck you.”
“Excuse me?”
The punch I knew was coming, but the jab to my left ribs took me off guard. I caught Grey’s arm before he took another swing and looked into his eyes—eyes that were exactly like Charlotte’s. He wrestled his arm free and barreled into me, knocking us both into the wall. The vase full of wildflowers I had picked out back fell to the floor with a loud crash and Jesse pawed at the door, barking and growling. I struggled to get up, Grey’s weight laying on top of me, his fist hitting me anywhere and everywhere he could get in a hit. I didn’t want to hurt him, but it was the only way I could think of to get him off me. I landed a hit square on his jaw, which jarred him enough to throw him off me. “Get off of me, Grey!”
“I fucking trusted you—fucking helped you try to win her over.” He shook his head, trying to come back to his full senses. “Why would you do this to her?” To me? He didn’t have to say it, but it hung there in the air all the same.
“Why I am to blame? Maybe if you hadn’t been such a fucking pansy, Nikki would’ve had her lips on yours instead of mine.”
Mistake. I knew it as soon as came out of my mouth, but it had to be said. The busted lip I earned from it was hardly worth it, but someone needed to tell him to man the fuck up.
He bent over and picked up his ca
p and threw it on his head. “Fucking rich from some prick who’s strung the girl he’s supposedly loved for more than a decade along.” Heavy boots thudded against the wooden floor as I surveyed the damage: broken entryway table, a massive hole in the drywall, and broken wildflower stems lay amongst shards of glass and puddles of water. I exhaled as the door hinges groaned under the pressure of being pulled open and looked over to see another friendship walking out the door.
Green eyes—just like Charlotte’s, like Aidan’s—rimmed with red and full of hurt. Yet another member of the Kasen clan had fallen victim to the supreme clusterfuck that was my life. “Stay the fuck away from my sister.” The screen door slammed heavily once again, and Jesse’s barking mixed with the sound of gravel crunching and a truck door slamming.
True to form, everything in my life had turned upside down once again, and my world was fucked ten ways to Sunday.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Charlotte
I had stayed at a hotel for the past three days. I didn’t want to be anywhere near Deacon or Nikki, so I worked remotely like Daddy had already approved and had Grey bring me the files I needed from work. I went to the house I shared with my now ex-best friend and gathered what I could while she was out job hunting. Staci asked me what was going on, and I told her I had to leave, which led to her crying and me feeling like gum on the bottom of a shoe, but I couldn’t stand to be anywhere near her sister. Not with this rage boiling within my soul. I would still see her at the studio, but our time would be considerably limited.
Elsie’s house was still too rife with sadness, and Mom and Daddy would only want to know what happened. They loved both Deacon and Nikki as well and I didn’t want Mom to try to stage a Mom-ervention. Grey was out of the question because he lived near Deacon and we had differing opinions on who was to blame. That left Mason, but it was Mason. He hated Deacon and I did not want to hear a rendition of You should’ve known better, Charlotte on repeat. I had found an apartment near the dance studio that was cheap and move-in ready, so that would serve me for a while until the next phase of life decisions came barreling at me.