Ruined

by Hanna, Rachel

  "Well, we could if I didn't think about you twenty four hours a day. This thing with my brother only showed me how precious life is, and you have to say the things you need to say while you can." I can feel the emotion in his voice, and it pains me because the reality is that I do care about him. I do think about him. I do want to kiss him again. But I know there isn't a future. Just like Bruce can't forgive his own son, I can't expect Reed to think highly of me after he knows my secret.

  "Reed, I think about you too. But things can't got anywhere between us."

  "You're talking in circles, Willow. I don't understand why we can't at least try..."

  "Please. You're making this so hard, Reed. Please, just focus on your brother right now."

  "Fine. I'll leave it for now. But just know that my feelings are real, and I think yours are too. When you decide to stop being scared, let me know," he says before ending the call. And I still didn't get to ask him a damn thing about editing.

  ***

  After six exhausting hours, I finally finish the editing and walk home. There's just enough time for dinner and then Emmy will be there to meet pick me up.

  As I enter the kitchen, it's apparent that things aren't good at home. My mother has been crying, Bruce is standing with his arms crossed next to the refrigerator and Kellan is walking upstairs.

  "Everything okay?" I ask, knowing the answer but looking for something to say.

  "Not really," my mother says through sniffles.

  "Anything I can do?"

  "Not unless you can turn back time," Bruce says in a huff before walking out of the kitchen. I look at my mother, and pain from now and four years ago cloud her eyes. I walk over to her and put my arms around her quietly. She falls into me, sobs wracking her body, and I feel guilt unlike anything I've felt since that night so long ago.

  "He just can't forgive him..." she whispers into my shoulder.

  "I know."

  "It hurts me to see Kellan hurting. I barely know the boy."

  "Mom," I say, pulling back and looking at her, "I think your pain comes from something else."

  "What?" she asks as she sits down on a bar stool by the counter and wipes her eyes with a paper napkin.

  I whisper so no one can hear me. "I think you're worried he'll find out what I did and leave you." Her eyes get large and she shakes her head.

  "No, Willow. That's not true at all."

  "Yes it is. If he can't forgive his own son, how will he ever forgive me?"

  "You had motive, Willow. We both know that."

  "Someone is still dead, Mom."

  ***

  I walk upstairs, emotionally spent and exhausted already, and start to get ready for my night out with Emmy. I don't really want to go anymore, but I need to. She is looking for a friend, and I simply need to clear my mind.

  "Hey," I hear Kellan say from my doorway as I dig through my closet.

  "Hey."

  "Going somewhere?"

  "My friend, Emmy, invited me to a new dance club that's opening tonight." I smile and continue looking through my clothes. I finally pull out pair of skinny jeans and a flowy red top with a plunging neckline to show off what little cleavage I have.

  "Oh."

  "Wanna go?"

  "Can't."

  "Got other plans?"

  "No. I have probation. Remember? I can't be around alcohol for six months."

  "Oh, sorry. I wasn't thinking..."

  "No problem. I don't expect you to understand," he says and then walks out of the room.

  Now, I'm a bit pissed off. What did that mean? He walks down the hall and downstairs, all the while listening to me call his name. When he finally makes his way out to the beach, I'm hot on his heels and fuming mad.

  "Stop, Kellan!" I yell. The sun is going down, and no one is on the beach because a storm is going to roll in soon. He stops but doesn't turn around.

  "What?" he says, still not turning around.

  "At least have the decency to turn around and look at me." He finally turns, but he crosses his arms and won't make eye contact. "Now, what is going on? Why are you acting like this?"

  "Look, Willow, I know we have to live in this house together, but we don't have to hang out with each other all the time."

  "Okay. If that's what you want. But you don't have to be a dick about it."

  "Isn't that what you want? To be rid of the likes of me?"

  "What in the heck are you even talking about, Kellan?" I am totally and completely confused.

  "I saw you talking to my father after our fight yesterday. Right there, sitting on that wall." He points behind me. Still, I am confused.

  "Okay... And that means what exactly?"

  "He told me what you talked about." His voice is almost an angry growl, and I feel like I'm not in on some joke.

  "Kellan, you're going to have to fill in some of the blanks here because I don't have any clue what you're so upset about."

  He looks confused and irritated and hurt, and I don't know how to help him.

  "He told me that you're a new college student with a bright future ahead of you, and that you don't need to get your life plans derailed by someone like me."

  I feel like someone just knocked the wind out of me. "Well, that's Bruce's opinion, I guess. But we didn't talk about anything like that. I told him that you were really trying and to give you a chance. That's what we talked about, but I'm sorry you think so little of me that you believe I'd betray you like that. I thought we were becoming friends, Kellan!"

  He sighs and runs his hand through his hair and then walks toward me. As he looks down at me, those green eyes glinting in the leftover rays of afternoon sunlight, I can see he's sorry. "He's right, though, and that's what pisses me off."

  "What?" I ask throwing my hands up.

  "He's right, Willow. You've got a big, bright future ahead of you. I don't have the right to drag you into my problems. See, I'll never be the same. No matter what happens, I'll always be the felon son of Bruce Avery who killed three people and won't amount to anything. And you deserve a better friend than me," he says softly as he kisses my forehead and walks toward the house. I just stand there, unsure of what to do or say. He's suddenly gone from hopeful about his future to feeling defeated, and I know the root cause of it all. Bruce Avery. And I've got to fix this somehow, or my newly formed family is going to implode and Kellan is going to end up bearing the brunt of it all.

  I go back upstairs, but Kellan isn't in his room. I don't know where he went, and I don't have time to look because Emmy arrives a few minutes later. I toss back a quick PB&J sandwich and then head out the door with her.

  As we're driving, I'm being quiet and Emmy knows it.

  "Okay, what's going on in that head of yours, Willow?"

  "Nothing. Just thinking about some stuff."

  "Such as?"

  "Kellan."

  "Your new brother?"

  "Gross. Don't say that. He's not related to me, like you said," I say with a small laugh.

  "What's up with him?"

  "Listen, Emmy, if I asked you for a favor, would you do it?"

  "Depends on the kind of favor. I mean, if you want me to rob a liquor store, I'd probably have to say no. But if you asked to wear my sexy pink dress, I'd probably say yes. So, is this a liquor store favor or a dress favor?"

  "In between I guess."

  "Alright, spill it."

  "Would you consider driving me into Atlanta tomorrow?"

  "That's it?"

  "Kind of. Can you work a video camera?"

  Chapter 15

  Emmy and I enjoy the new dance club, but I have no interest in meeting guys tonight. My focus is on helping Kellan, and Bruce for that matter. We hang out for a couple of hours before Emmy meets a guy, gets his number and we leave. I think he is a big goober, but she likes him so I keep my mouth shut.

  When I told Emmy my idea, she thought I was nuts, but I think it's the only way to have a chance at working this situation out with Bruce a
nd Kellan. It's risky and emotional and difficult, but I have to try. The courage this is going to take is almost more than I can bear, but I can't think of another way to bridge this gap between the two men. And the whole thing could backfire in my face.

  Still, Emmy said she would help me and she is.

  "We're almost there," she says as she pulls off the exit into Atlanta. The big buildings overpower me as we drive. I know that the person I need to see is in one of these buildings, and I can't believe he agreed to talk to me when I called this morning. I don't know what kind of reception we'll get, but at least he didn't hang up on me when I told him why I was coming.

  We pull into a parking lot beside a large building and pay ten dollars for the daily rate. Emmy and I get out, and she takes the large bag of camera equipment while I tote the tripod.

  "Good Lord, I hope I remember how to work this thing. Reed only showed me once."

  "Does he know what you're doing?" she asks as we start walking.

  "No. Our last conversation wasn't so great, and I haven't heard from him since. He might be back in Charleston by now. I don't know."

  Emmy stops for a moment and looks at me. "Are you sure you want to do this? Because once we get up there, there's no going back."

  "I'm sure. Look, I'm going to be a Journalist one day, and this is as good a time as any to start."

  We walk into the building and get on the elevator. I can feel my heart pounding hard in my chest, and it finally dawns on me that Kellan might actually be angry with me if he knew where I was right now.

  We ride up to the eighth floor and get off when the doors open up to a nice office. I walk up to the mahogany front desk with Emmy trailing behind me.

  "We're here to see Mr. Reynolds." The lady smiles and nods and then buzzes his office. A few moments later, she leads us down a hallway and into a room with a big conference table. We wait as I tap my fingers on the glass top table nervously.

  "Calm down," the normally energetic and spastic Emmy says. If she's telling me to calm down, I must be really keyed up.

  A few moments later, a tall man with a receding hairline comes into the room. He opens the door slowly and stands there for a moment like he's trying to decide if he wants to come in or not. His face has no expression, but then he finally smiles slightly and holds out his hand. I stand up and shake his hand and then quickly sit back down in my seat.

  Emmy works on setting up the camera and tripod, and I am super thankful that she got some audio visual training in high school. She seems to know what she's doing, at least enough to get the footage I'm going to need.

  Mr Reynolds sits down at the end of the table and looks at me. "Did you have a nice drive?"

  "Yes, sir. Traffic wasn't all that bad," I say.

  "Please, call me David."

  "Alright. David." He nods and smiles as we wait for Emmy to hook up his microphone. She does, and we begin our conversation.

  "First of all, thanks for agreeing to meet with me," I say before Emmy hits the record button.

  "It was time, Willow. I haven't spoken publicly about this in years."

  "I can understand. It must be very painful," I say as I see the red light turn on on the camera.

  "It is hard. Some days are harder than others, of course. Aimee's birthday is hard. The date of the accident is hard. Our anniversary. Christmas. Tallie and Madison's birthdays."

  "Tell me about Aimee."

  "Oh, she was a wonderful wife and mother. We met when I was working security at a concert in Piedmont Park. She was beautiful with her long red hair and porcelain skin. I couldn't believe she had any interest in me, but she did. We fell in love quickly and got married six months later." He smiles at the memories, and I feel sorry for him.

  "And your girls?"

  "Tallie was two at the time of the accident. She was a bundle of energy, that one. She had her mother's red hair, but she had my eyes. She was the perfect mixture of the two of us. And Madison was three and a half. She had just started preschool and loved to draw. I remember how she loved to draw the sunshine, and she was a ray of light in everyone's lives that she met," he says wiping a tear from his eye.

  "They sound like amazing people. I'm so sorry for your loss." He nods to acknowledge me, but takes a moment to gather himself as he reaches for a tissue. "Tell me about the accident, if you would."

  "It's hard to talk about. Very hard. We had just spent a week together at the beach for vacation. Those are some wonderful memories. I was working as a beat cop at the time, so I had to meet them there since I was working late on the first day of vacation. That meant I had to follow them home. We were coming down the road about three miles from home when this car up ahead seemed to be veering into our lane. I guess Aimee just didn't see him in time because she never moved. I ran off the road, but she didn't. She just kept driving. It was dark, and maybe she was tired herself? I don't know. But the other car ran directly into her and the girls. I saw the whole thing, and I ran so fast to the car. I couldn't save them..." he says with a sob. I want to reach out, help him in some way, but there's nothing I can do. I wait for him to gather himself. "It was a carload of boys. The driver had a cut to his head, I think. He was sitting on the sidewalk sobbing and rocking. Another two boys were okay and they were calling for the ambulance. I think another boy flew out of the car and was hurt badly."

  "David, you know that this story I'm doing is on forgiveness. And I was surprised when I called you that you said you do forgive the driver, Kellan Avery. How is that possible?"

  "I'm a man of faith, for one thing, and I believe that holding a grudge is like poison. I was very angry for months after the accident, so I took some time off of my job and did volunteer work. It helped me focus on others instead of myself. I realized early on that the driver was just a seventeen year old kid who made the worst mistake of his life. No anger I felt toward him was going to bring back my family, and I knew he was probably punishing himself more than I ever could. Once I let the anger go and decided to let God handle it, the pain started to get bearable. I think about my wife and kids every single day, and I cry sometimes, but I can't get lost in that. It's hard to climb out if you really let yourself go."

  "What is your life like now?"

  He smiles, and that makes me feel better. "Well, I left the police force when I got back from doing my volunteer work. I just couldn't handle the thought of seeing another car accident. I opened this private investigation agency, and as you can see, we're doing quite well," he says pointing around. "About two years ago, I met a woman named Heather Wilkins at a Mothers Against Drunk Driving event I was volunteering at. She lost her teenage son in an accident only he was the driver. We became friends and then more than that. We were married eleven months ago. She just gave birth to our son, Jacob, four weeks ago," he says pulling out his phone and holding up a picture. His smile is bright and wide.

  "Congratulations," I say leaning in to look at the photo. "He is adorable!"

  "Yes, he is..." he says smiling down at the picture before putting his phone back in his pocket. "And he'll know about the sisters he lost, and the brother, to drunk driving. It's all we can do. We have to use these tragedies as teaching tools for the next generation."

  "One final question, David. If you could talk to Kellan Avery, what would you say to him after all these years?"

  "Well, the first thing I'd say is that he needs to forgive himself because I have. I loved my family, and I still do. And nothing is ever going to bring them back. I hold their memories in my mind and heart every single day, but they aren't coming back. I would tell Kellan to use his life and use it well. Tell his story and warn other teens not to take the same path. Be a good person, allow love to come in and give of yourself. Let go of anger. Love others. Be a light in the darkness for those who need it. And, above all else, love yourself because God put you here for a reason." He's looking directly into the camera now, and I know that Kellan will feel like he is there talking to him face to face.

  "
Thank you so much for taking your time today," I say and Emmy turns off the camera. I can see her wiping tears from her eyes, and she leaves the room to dry them in the bathroom down the hall.

  David starts to walk toward the door, but he turns around like he has something to say. "Willow?"

  "Yes?"

  "You know Kellan, right?" I didn't tell him that, but he's figured it out.

  "I just met him when he was released. He's my new step brother," I say quietly. "But I am a reporter at DCTV and I am doing a story on forgiveness..."