by Allen, Dylan
I glance at my phone and start to unlock it to check. “Yeah, I’d forgotten.” I shake my head as I see he’s right.
“I’ve lost all sense of time.” I sigh and sit back.
“You know, when the car flipped…you know what I thought?”
That question draws my eyes up to his.
Remarkably, he’s smiling at me.
Love, love, love.
That is all I see and feel and know when I look at my brother. There is nothing I’ll ever do to be worthy of it, but I am so grateful for it.
“What did you think?”
“That I couldn’t believe I was going to miss the rest of your life.”
My stomach drops, and tears sting my eyes.
“James, don’t say that.”
“I know. But, I wasn’t scared. This accident…I feel like it woke me up.” He lifts one of his elegant hands up and brushes a lock of hair off my forehead.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought for sure, Lizzy, that I was going to die. When I woke up while they were cutting me out, I was shocked.”
“Well, you didn’t. Thank fuck. You can’t leave me alone with them.”
“You’d have Phil.” He chuckles softly and then winces when it turns into a cough. I lift the cup of water so that he can close his lips around the straw.
“That’s like having no one,” I say while he sips, and I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“He’s an ass, but he’s the only brother we’ve got,” he chides me.
“I wish he’d remember that and come home,” I say with chagrin.
“I wish mom was here,” he says absently.
Resentment, curdled and fermented in my gut, pushes out of me in a bitter, brittle laugh.
“I don’t. She made her choice; now we all have to live with it,” I say. Almost immediately, his eyes lose the humor that had given them a little light before.
I’m dismayed to see the change and want to kick myself for not remembering that he’s much more forgiving of all of them than I am. “I’m sorry, James. You’re hurt and trying to be positive, and I’m complaining.”
He covers my hand with his, and I feel even more guilt from his attempt to comfort me.
I follow his eyes, and he’s watching television. His wife, Erin, Winsome’s most famous export, is in a commercial on national television. She’s in Ireland and shooting for a film. It’s her first major role.
“She’ll be here soon,” he says absently.
“You must miss her,“ I say.
He looks back at me.
“I don’t love her. She was his choice for me.”
“What?” I ask, the astonishment I feel dragging the word out of me in a long exhale.
He doesn’t even blink.
I’m reeling.
“James, hold on. You don’t…love her?”
“No. The woman I love…she's married to someone else. And all because our parents didn’t approve.”
I feel like he just sucker-punched me, and my eyes bulge in complete amazement.
“You’re in love with someone else?” I lurch back, my eyes wide to show how scandalized I am by his confession.
“Dina.”
Oh God. Dina is my best friend. More like my sister, and she’s married to his best friend, Wes. My stomach twists at the thought that he’s loved her all this time.
“Does she know?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says, his voice heavy with regret.
“Does Wes know?”
He nods slowly. My heart aches for him.
“Does…she love you, too?” I hold my breath.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s too late.”
“Oh my God. What are you going to do?”
“I couldn’t do that to Erin or Wes.”
My heart squeezes in sympathy and a sense of helplessness.
“Oh, James. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t wait until you almost lose everything to realize what matters. You have got to promise me that you won’t let dad keep you here.”
I reach up to brush away the tear that escapes the tightly controlled corner of my eye.
“Damn you. Why are you talking like this?”
“Because I love you. And, I know you want nothing more than for Dad to see you.”
“No, I don’t,” I argue.
“Liz, it’s me. And it’s okay. He’s your father, your only present, somewhat anyway, parent. I understand. The part of me that cares about him wants his approval, too. I’m not going to tell you what to do. Only you can know that. But if I could choose for you, I’d send you far away.”
“So I could be completely by myself?” I say in mock horror.
“Yourself is all you need, kid. But I want you to get out there and live. You’ve got something to offer the world.”
“What if the world doesn’t want it?”
“Be brave; you’ll find that what’s meant for you. And it’ll be exactly what you need.”
“I’m not brave. I’m afraid all the time.” I say, self-loathing nearly choking me.
“Being afraid doesn’t mean you’re not brave. Of course, you’re afraid…life is fucking scary. Don’t let that stop you.”
My brother has been my comrade-in-arms my whole life. We’re eight years apart in age, but we’ve lived by the motto we came up with when I was just eight and he was already sixteen.
Our lives have changed so much in the years since. But one thing has remained constant. James and I have always been each other’s best friend. It was a bond forged by circumstances that we only survived because we had each other’s backs. And it has proven unbreakable.
We hold each other’s gaze. His is full of happiness and I know that mine is, too. I can’t imagine losing the one person who really loves me. What would I do?
As if he’s reading my mind, he asks, “Do you remember that thing we used to say?”
I nod and hold my hand up, palm out toward him. He places his palm on mine, and we link fingers.
I close my eyes and try desperately to capture everything about this moment. The dry slide of his palm against mine, the way his skin feels under the pad of my fingers.
“Your blood is my blood,” James says, and I join him for the rest of our childhood oath. “There is no space between us. I forgive you for everything. One day, we’ll live free. Or die trying.”
I open my eyes to find his as clear as they’ve been since I got here.
I reach up to brush away the tear that escapes the corner of my eye.
“Liz…” His voice is heavy with fatigue, and I look up at him, my pity party over as quickly as it started.
“Are you tired? Do you want me to call a nurse or something?”
“Yes. I’m tired. But I don’t need a nurse. I want you to stop crying. Today is your birthday. We’re both here. Let’s be grateful. We get a second chance.”
I just shake my head in wonder. “I wish I could be so accepting.”
“It’s totally contrary to your nature,” he deadpans.
A bark of surprised laughter escapes me.
“Gee thanks.”
“It’s a compliment. I hope you never stop wanting more. You were born with stars in your eyes. I know this family and it’s fucked-up shit has made it hard for you to keep them there. But as long as you’ve got me, I’ll do what I can for you. Promise me, that until you have what you want, you won’t stop reaching for it.”
“Well, it would be good if I knew what I wanted.”
“You know…you’re just afraid because you think you’ll never have it.”
I glare at him.
“James, let me give you a tip. If you ever decide to go after Dina, insults aren’t the way to get girls to like you.” The chuckle I expected doesn’t come.
His eyes close.
“There’s a cake and stuff at the house. You should go and get it. By the time you get back, I should be awake again.”
His voice isn’t ang
ry, but it’s clipped and tight with hurt.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t joke.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have burdened you with that.”
“It’s not a burden. I love you.”
I drop my forehead onto his hand and say a quick prayer of thanks for him.
“I don’t want to leave you,” I say, but stand anyway. I know he needs his rest. And so do I.
“The worst is over. Just bring that cake back here. We still need to talk about what happened by the lake.”
At the mention of the lake, I think of Carter…and I can’t help but smile because I’m filled with warmth and longing at the memory of him.
“I can’t wait. I have so much to tell you.”
He smiles, but it turns into a yawn.
“I’ve got nothing but time. See you when you get back.”
* * *
I’m climbing out of my cab when Erin comes running out of the entrance. Her face is tear streaked. But it’s the devastation in her eyes that yanks me out of my shallow wallow and plunges me straight into the deep end of panic.
“Hurry,” is all she says before she turns and runs back inside. I don’t realize I’ve dropped the cake I’m holding until it lands with a splat at my feet. I step over the mess on the pavement and break into a run. My heart is racing wildly, and I’m running as fast as I can manage. Behind me I hear Erin calling my name.
I turn the corner to the corridor where his room is and run full speed into a cart parked in the hallway outside his room.
It’s and James’ bed is completely surrounded. I stare, tears blurring my vision.
“What happened?” I ask no on in particular. One of the nurses standing by his bed looks up at me.
Her red-rimmed eyes are haunted and her hair looks like she’s been trying to pull it out by the root.
Erin catches up to me and I turn and pose the question to her.
She looks like she hasn’t slept in years.
“I don’t know, Liz. He was talking. Then, he said his head hurt, and I called the nurse. They gave him something for the pain. He fell asleep and then next thing I know all the machines go off.” She covers her mouth as if to muffle a scream, her eyes wide with terror.
“Where are my parents?” I ask.
“They’re on their way,” she
A throat clears behind us, and we both turn around. The question on my tongue dies when I see the look of defeat on the doctor’s face.
He starts to speak, but I don’t hear anything but the sound of someone screaming. It sounds far away, like my head is under water. I walk into his room and watch as the nurses and doctors who were working on him, stand around the bed, some of them look dumbstruck. One of the nurses, a young man, is crying.
I slump against the wall and slide slowly to the floor.
My tears, the ones that James called as rare as rainbows, are infinite. I cry unceasingly. My father demands that I stop. But not even his angry orders hold sway over this river of anguish.
Hours later, when it’s all over, I’m still there.
It’s only when they finally come to take his body away at sunset that the tears stop. All that’s left is a place in me that feels hollowed out and raw.
I want to linger in the place where my brother exhaled his last breath, and when I ask if I can stay, no one says no. I lie down on the floor where his bed was and I try to smell him.
I don’t remember falling asleep. But when I wake up, the sun is shining. A gentle hand on my shoulder shakes me awake. I open my eyes. My face is pressed to the floor and covered in what at first I thought was drool, but when I lift my face, I realize it’s tears. I sit up, bleary-eyed and cotton mouthed and blink against the bright light.
The machines are all off. My ears ring with the damning absoluteness of the silence.
Panic seizes me and I shake with the effort it takes to deny the truth in my mind.
This can’t be.
The machines are off.
There’s no one for them to keep alive.
Oh my God.
My brother is dead.
I look around the hospital room and have to close my eyes against the wave of dizziness, caused by the crushing pain of reality that's snuffed out any hope that flared for a second that maybe it had all been a dream.
The pain is too much for me to fathom. I vibrate with it. My hands are clenched in fists so tightly that I can feel the sting of my fingers in my palm.
But I look up into the haggard face of my sister-in-law, Erin, and I know it wasn’t.
This wasn’t a nightmare.
This is real.
“They need the room, Lizzy; you have to go,” she says, and her voice is as hollow as her eyes. I nod and struggle to stand. I feel drunk and look around dazedly for my purse.
“I lost track of time.”
She nods. Her expression is tight and doesn’t meet my eyes for more than a second before she looks away.
“The sheriff said you left this in her car.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small envelope.
“What is this?”
“It’s in James’s handwriting.” Her voice breaks and she looks sharply down at the floor. “Of course the last letter he would ever write would be to you. I wish he’d loved me half as much.”
Her shoulders shake, but there is no sound. I just watch her. I know nothing I say will make it any better. So, I just wait for her to finish and watch as her tears land on the floor. Some of them splatter on my toes, and I resist the urge to drag my foot along my pants leg to dry them off.
I wait until I am in the back of cab before I open his letter.
It is short and to the point. And my tears flow as I read it over and over again until I can’t see it anymore.
“Happy Birthday my lovely Lizzy. I hope it’s one for the record books. When you were a baby, you were insatiable and demanding, and you refused to be denied. You would cry until the whole house stopped to pay attention. And then, you’d hold court. Mom used to say, ‘this girl is destined for great things.’
I know she hurt you, but I hope one day you’ll want to know more about her. When you do, let me know. There’s so much of her inside of you. What she did was wrong. But she isn’t a bad person. I know you don’t understand why I don’t hate her. It’s not because she didn’t hurt me. It’s because I remember all of the good things about her. You were too young to know, but when you’re ready, I want to introduce you to the real her. Until then, remember that you are destined for great things. I push you because I have faith in you. When you find the place where you can spread your wings, you’re going to soar. I can’t wait to see it. I love you. James.”
Anguish the likes of which I have never known cleaves my heart in half. It’s only when a tear runs down my nose and hangs suspended there that I realize I’m crying again. I know for sure, that even when these tears dry and life goes on, I’ll never stop crying.
10
NEMESIS
CARTER
“God, I forgot how much I hate these people,” my father mutters and tugs at his shirt collar.
“Thank you for you coming,” I say solemnly. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like I needed my dad for moral support. But, now that I’m standing in the foyer of Beth’s family's house, I’m glad he insisted on coming with me. I knew there’d be people visiting, but I hadn’t expected such a crowd. I thought I’d be able to find a few minutes to talk to Beth alone.
“It’s Wednesday afternoon, why aren’t these people at work?” I ask as we join a line of people who are waiting to pay their respects. The man who let us in told us that the Wolfes were receiving visitors and the wait would be long.
“Nothing like death as a reason to call in. For a boy like James Wolfe, the whole town is probably shut down. I knew there’d be a crowd, and honestly, I wanted to see if anyone I knew from high school would be here.”
I give him a sidelong glance.
“Ah, a hot and heavy ex? I
’m telling Mom,” I tease.
“Your mom is the first hot and heavy thing I ever had. You should be thanking me instead of threatening me. I’m going to run interference while you find your girl.”
I look at my dad and don’t try to hide my surprise. My dad was barely speaking to me yesterday. When I said I was going to visit her, he hadn’t even looked up from his paper. But when I was leaving today, he was waiting for me in the entryway of the house.
“Some things a man needs his father for,” he’d said when he saw the confused look on my face.
“This is fucking sad,” he says in a whisper.
“It really is.” I agree.
A woman ahead of us shushes us and that’s when I realize it’s totally silent in line.
We exchange bewildered expressions but don’t speak to each other again.
The news came with the daily delivery of fresh bread that comes with the cabin. James Wolfe was dead. In a freak car accident the night of the bad storm. A fist of worry squeezed my gut, and I rushed to call her. Her phone went to voice mail all day. News of this open house thing came this morning, and I knew I had to come.
We had that one night. I don’t really know her. I’m sure she has people to comfort her at a moment like this, but something kept telling me that maybe she didn’t. I remember how alone she was that night and the things she told me about her friends and family.
I just want to make sure she’s okay. I also want to say goodbye. I know that with all of this going on, seeing her again before I leave will be next to impossible. So, I hope I can find a way to get her alone for a few minutes.
As we get close to the front of the line, it thins, and Liz comes into view.
She’s not crying, but her grief is palpable. Her eyes are bloodshot, bleak, and unfocused. She’s pale, and the black suit she’s wearing looks too big for her.
To her right is a handsome, middle-aged man. His suit is definitely not off the rack, and his hair looks like he just stepped out of a salon. But he’s wearing the same shell-shocked expression Liz is. He’s stoic, barely acknowledging the people who are shaking his hand. On Liz’s left is a woman whose face is covered by a black veil. She’s sobbing loudly and clutching a handkerchief to her mouth.