by J. M. Paul
“Libby?” His tone was patient, but I knew the curiosity of the looming conversation sat between us.
“Remember when I told you, it was my fault my loved ones died?”
He watched me for several seconds, and the silence hanging between us was almost deafening. When he finally nodded, I nodded with him.
“What I failed to tell you was that I was responsible for their deaths.”
Boom.
The dynamite had been lit, and I waited for him to run and take cover.
“What do you mean? You said they were killed in an accident.” The corners of his eyes tightened, and his brows furrowed.
“I only said that so you wouldn’t be completely repulsed by me. I couldn’t handle it back then.” I can’t handle it now, but I don’t have a choice anymore.
We only had one week left on the road until we would fly back to Michigan, to real life, and the growing passion and expectation in Bax’s eyes had me feeling guiltier by the minute. I couldn’t lie to him anymore. He deserved better than to fall for someone like me, and as part of my punishment for my behavior over five years ago, it was up to me to tell him why he shouldn’t waste his time with me, why I should be alone and forced to suffer the rest of my life in purgatory.
“I could never be repulsed by you, Libby.” Grabbing my hands in his, he leaned across the table. “Tell me what you mean.”
Tightening my jaw, I pulled away from his touch and sat back against the booth. When his skin was on mine, I tended to lose all train of thought, and I needed to be firing on all cylinders and ready for a race.
I inhaled, held it, and then released it in a rush. “My loved ones weren’t in an accident. They were killed by an accident that was my fault.”
“O-kay.” He drew out the word.
He still didn’t understand what I was trying to say.
“It was my sixteenth birthday. My parents, Justice, and Jarrod pooled their money together to purchase my Nikon camera that I still use to this day.” My lips tilted up at the memory but quickly stopped when I remembered what the rest of the story led into. “My birthday was on a Friday, and they were all so excited about their gift that they gave it to me before school. In my own enthusiasm, I quickly took a picture of Mom, Dad, and Justice in our backyard in the morning light along with a quick snapshot of Jarrod before we left for school. But talk about torture”—I shook my head—“all day, I was antsy, impatient to get my hands on that baby. Jarrod laughed at me, and I remember scolding him for teasing me.” Sadness settled in my heart at the thought of his soft smile and shining eyes.
I miss him so much.
I reached up to play with his ring around my neck, but for the thousandth time, it wasn’t there. The penny charm I wore in its place helped settle some of the sorrow in me.
I looked up into the hesitant hazel eyes of the man who had the ability to change or crush my world after he heard the worst part of this story.
“Anyway, Jarrod had track after school, so my family and I decided to delay dinner until he was finished. While I waited, I ventured out into the neighborhood and started snapping pictures of anything and everything, deep in the creative zone. When I finally had the mind to look at the time, I noticed I was a half hour late in meeting Jarrod and my family. I was almost home when a butterfly fluttered by and caught my attention. It landed on a tree with perfect lighting, and I got lost photographing it when a loud explosion blasted. The sound hurt my ears, vibrated under my feet, and knocked me back on my butt. My biggest worry was if I had dropped my new camera…until I looked down the street and saw the explosion had come from my house.”
Tears filled my eyes, and a sob escaped my throat, preventing me from speaking.
“Libby, stop. You don’t have to tell me anymore. It’s okay. It’s okay…” Bax kept repeating.
No, it is most definitely not okay.
“I had never run so fast in my life,” I said through my crying. “But my neighbor caught me before I ran into what was left of my home. I remember, through my wailing, I was screaming for my mom, dad, sister, and Jarrod at the top of my lungs. I knew they were all in there, waiting for me to get home, so they could take me to my birthday dinner.” I hiccupped, wiped at the tears streaming down my cheeks, and blew my nose. It never got easier to talk or think about this, no matter how much time had passed.
After taking several deep breaths to try to calm myself down, I continued, “There was no movement inside, and I knew…I just knew they hadn’t made it.” I sniffled and brushed at my tears again. “The seconds, minutes, or hours until I found out what I had feared was true were excruciating. When the policeman told me…” I had to stop talking for a moment to compose myself. People around the bar were trying not to stare at the girl making a scene in the corner. “I don’t remember much after that because I went into a state of shock and hysterics. The next several days were a blur, up until the f-fu-funeral.”
“Libby, please…”
I shook my head. “I have to tell the rest. You have to hear me out, Bax.”
He nodded and sat patiently for me to finish.
“The water heater had a gas leak that caused the explosion,” I said stoically. I squared my shoulders and continued, “It wasn’t until right before their funerals that I realized it was my fault, that my choices had killed the people I loved, and I had Joel to thank for that. He made it very clear to me before their funerals started.” I shook my head. “But he was right. If I hadn’t been so caught up in the need to take pictures that I could’ve taken any other day, they wouldn’t have been in that house. We would have been at dinner, and the only things I would have lost were material objects that could be replaced. Instead, I don’t have anything. No parents, no sibling, and no lifelong friend and boyfriend. Nothing, not even a frigging picture from when I was a baby. It’s all gone because I’m selfish.” I covered my face. “They are all dead because of me. Me. They’re dead because of me,” I repeated into my hands.
“It wasn’t your fault, Libby. Gosh, how could you think that?” Bax grabbed my hand, and I yanked it back.
“It was my fault!” I smacked my hands against the tabletop. The shock of my sudden outburst had the entire restaurant turning in our direction. “It was my fault,” I reiterated quieter. “I killed them. My selfishness killed them, Bax, and there’s nothing I can do to change it or get them back.” I looked up into his pleading eyes. “Is that the type of person you want to be involved with? Look where it got Jarrod.” I grabbed at my necklace, and when I didn’t find Jarrod’s ring, I lowered my hand to trace a scratch on the table. “Is it?”
When I lifted my head, Bax was staring blankly at me.
I scooted out of the booth, and before I stood, I mumbled, “I didn’t think so,” before I jogged out of the hotel restaurant.
“Libby!” Bax called after me, but there was no stopping my escape.
I sprinted up the two flights of stairs to my hotel room and barreled through the door. Thankfully, Milo and Carly hadn’t picked my room for their sexcapade. I went straight out to the balcony. If Bax followed me and knocked on the door, I didn’t want to hear it and be guilted into dealing with him any further. I needed time to recover from my confession and the memories and sadness it had stirred.
We were only on the second floor, but height wasn’t what I was craving; it was fresh air. As I gulped the saltwater breeze into my lungs and listened to the traffic zooming by on the road below, I wished I could hear the crash of waves against the shore five blocks away.
After what seemed like hours, calmness finally started to seep into my body, and with it, came exhaustion.
With blurry eyes and a heavy heart and soul, I crashed into bed. I burrowed my head under two pillows, too tired to remember that I had seen three cigarette butts of a distinct brand I recognized right below the railing of my balcony.
It was the last city of our trip, and our melancholy moods hung heavy in the air between the four of us.
Milo
and Carly were sad because they wouldn’t be able to spend every waking moment together when we got home. I assumed Carly was worried if Milo would be capable of committing to a serious relationship or being faithful.
Me and Bax? I couldn’t begin to guess what was going through his mind because he wasn’t talking to me—or I wasn’t talking to him. I wasn’t sure. Since I had dropped my secret in his lap, I had been keeping my distance, giving him space to digest all that he had heard and learned.
No part of me expected him to accept the news and welcome me back with open arms. My life didn’t run that way anymore. For the first sixteen years, everything had been easy, and I hadn’t known I should have appreciated it. I assumed I would pay for that lack of gratefulness for the rest of my time on this earth—however long that might be.
As we rode north on California State Route 1 toward San Francisco, I enjoyed the fact that Carly was driving, and I was on the side of the van that faced the ocean. Keeping my head turned toward the beautiful scenery also kept my attention away from Bax sitting in the seat next to me. As I took in the splendor of the cliffs and crashing ocean below us, I spun the silver promise ring that Jarrod had given me around my finger.
There would come a time when I would have to take it off, to finally let Jarrod go, but I still wasn’t ready. There were so many reasons, but the most prominent was, I couldn’t let Jarrod go at the same time I was losing Bax. At this point, I should be used to losing people because it seemed to be I was only good at being alone and photography, but my heart couldn’t take the double hit. The strength was somewhere in me—it had to be—but not when I still saw Bax on a daily basis, was forced to sit next to him in a vehicle and breathe his fresh soap scent, and was struggling with the need to touch him, hold him, and kiss him. Because, when it came down to it, even though I was his in every way I was capable, he wasn’t mine. Bax had slipped through my hands before I even had the chance to grip him.
Suddenly, a warm hand steadied mine as I continued to twist the ring, and I looked down in shock and then up at Bax. His gaze met mine, and my heart started to pound in my chest when I couldn’t read his expression.
Is this an olive branch?
I tried not to get my hopes up, but he had reached out and made contact first. My hopes had shot off the charts with the lone touch.
My brows furrowed. He tightened his grip against mine and then rubbed his thumb along the soft skin of my wrist, like he had done so many times before.
“Bax—”
He shook his head and lifted his finger to his lips to shush me, quickly swinging his attention to Milo and Carly and then back to me.
Later, he mouthed. Then, he smiled and squeezed my hand again.
Against my better judgment, my heart started to soar. Maybe he doesn’t hate me as much as I hate myself.
Since everything I valued had ceased to exist when I was sixteen, my life and spirit had taken an express elevator ride to rock bottom. The unfortunate aspect was I didn’t only get the ride, but after exiting, I also got the grand tour into the deepest bowels of despair. I had been lost in the darkness, unable to find any semblance of light. Fortunately, this summer had made me notice the cavern of the elevator again, and I had had the courage to climb back on and take the slow ride up to each floor, finding little glimpses of light and hope. But the scary part of letting myself rise was the fear of falling all over again.
We came upon a lighthouse on a cliff, and Milo pulled into the parking lot without us having to ask.
I was happy that, over the next couple of days, we would wander around San Francisco and make a day trip to Yosemite National Park. Both destinations had always been on my bucket list. It was one place my parents never took me and Justice, but they’d wanted to because it was pretty much the hippie capital of the world.
I will enter their city later today…
The anticipation rose in my chest, and I savored the feeling.
After we took photos of the white lighthouse on the point of a cliff, stopped at a beach, and waded in the cold ocean water, we loaded back into the van, and Bax drove us into the City by the Bay.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but I was taken off guard at the beauty surrounding me. The day was edging toward sunset, and the light bounced off buildings, the bay, and the magnificent bridges, including the Golden Gate.
We were traveling up one of the many steep hills toward our hotel when I looked out the back window and saw Alcatraz standing tall and proud atop The Rock in the distance. Even without seeing much more than a few aspects, it was then I fell instantly in love with the city and planned to come back when I could spend more time.
We checked in at our hotel, unloaded our luggage, and headed out to Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. on Pier 39 for dinner. Bax, who was always thinking ahead, had called to make reservations since he’d read it tended to be packed during tourist season.
The hostess led us to our window seat, and we all ordered a round of drinks since we planned to tour the pier after dinner. I was quickly becoming accustomed to having a drink now and again to relax, especially since I felt safe in the presence of my tour mates who had grown into friends.
Somewhere along the way, I had become comfortable around them. Each had their own way of breaking me from my shell—Milo with his persistent teasing and humor, Carly with her easygoing nature, and Bax with his understanding, support, generosity, encouragement, and selflessness. Unexpectedly, Bax had given me the gifts of confidence, security, and aspiration when I thought it was impossible.
How will I ever repay them?
We ordered our meals and enjoyed the view of the pier while we waited. Conversation was light and easy, all of us excited to be in this city as tourists. Bax and I didn’t talk directly to one another, but we conversed as a group. It felt wrong and impersonal, but at least we were able to continue the front of falsehood while around Milo and Carly. They were oblivious to what had gone down between me and Bax in Las Vegas and then in Malibu. It was better that way because any questions would lead to shady answers that would incite more questions, and I couldn’t deal with my newfound friends digging too deeply into my issues or past.
The waitress delivered our food, and we dug in with gusto.
“So, where are we headed to next?” Carly shoved her ginormous hamburger into her mouth.
A slop of ketchup was smeared on her cheek, and before she could wipe it away, Milo leaned over and licked it off.
“Holy tacos, Milo. Get a grip.” I shook my head at him and tried to mask my smile as I sipped my drink.
Milo shoved an onion ring in his mouth and smiled, so the breaded vegetable posed as his teeth. The guy was seriously demented.
“I figured we’d walk the pier, do a little shopping if you girls want”—Milo groaned at the statement, and Carly’s cheeks scrunched up into a smile—“and then go see the seals. I hear they are quite the attraction,” Bax said.
“Oh! I forgot about the seals!” I clapped my hands.
Bax eyed my drink and then me, smiling just enough that I could see the shadow of his dimple.
Yes, you’ve turned me into a lush, Mr. Bad Influence.
“Well, that’s an affirmative then.” Bax dipped a shrimp into cocktail sauce and slurped it into his mouth.
Lucky shrimp.
My cheeks heated at the thought, and I looked down at my plate, ashamed and stunned at how easily I craved intimacy with Bax now.
My parents wouldn’t even recognize their polite, good girl anymore.
When we finished our meals and drinks, we paid our separate bills since the grant money was running thin and headed out to the pier.
The energy on the wharf was electric and vibrating around us in waves. Laughter, music, street performers, and conversations filled the air. The vitality of the atmosphere snuffed the exhaustion that started to creep in after a long day of travel, sightseeing, and alcohol.
Moving in and out of shops along the wooden and brick pier, we each bought a
trinket of some sort and decided to walk down to see the seals even though it was dark. As we wandered along the water, someone going in the opposite direction ran into me, knocking me back several steps.
“Mother-scratcher.” I rubbed my shoulder and arm as I stopped in my tracks to peer back at the person who didn’t even turn or mumble an apology.
The figure was dressed in dark clothing and wore a hat, so it was hard to distinguish features, but something about the physique and the way the person moved was hauntingly familiar.
I shook my head. Don’t go there, Libby. Tonight is supposed to be fun, so get out of your own head and enjoy yourself.
“You coming?” Bax stepped next to me.
“Yeah. Some rude jerk-hole just ran into me.” I shrugged like it was nothing even though I knew the contact would leave a bruise.
Bax was about to say something when I heard an arf, arf, arf.
My ears perked, my eyes grew to the size of saucers, and I clapped animatedly. “Seals!”
With that, the incident was forgotten, and we lined up along the edge of the pier, trying our hardest to see the seals we could undoubtedly hear. Some light was filtering around us, and I could see a few blobby figures moving around but not much else.
“Bummer,” Carly said.
“Yeah, I was really looking forward to seeing them.” My bottom lip slid out.
“We’ll come back tomorrow after we get back from the Alcatraz tour,” Bax promised.
Depleted of the sudden energy I had found while walking after dinner, I nodded and then turned to saunter back to the van.
With my headphones on and a male voice in my ear recounting the history of this location on the self-guided tour of Alcatraz, I walked down a cell block and thought about how surreal this experience was.
Alcatraz—once a maximum high-security federal prison, the prison of all the prison systems, the school of hard knocks—had held several well-known criminals, such as Al Capone, George “Machine-Gun” Kelly, Arthur “Doc” Barker, and Alvin Karpis, who was named the first Public Enemy #1.