Let Me Love

by Michelle Lynn

  “Yeah, I better get in there. Thanks for the ride and...everything,” I say, staring into my clasped hands.

  “Let me help you get them calmed down and in bed?” I shake my head, trying to discourage the eagerness in his voice.

  “No, I got it covered. There’s a lot of help in there.” I point to the house.

  “Okay. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for the funeral.”

  I shake my head again. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.” My fingers grasp the metal door handle, but my heart is struggling to let me actually leave. I need to make this fast, or I’ll never get the courage to do it.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. But if you need—,”

  “I won’t. Good night, Trey,” I whisper and quickly exit the car. I rush to the door as fast as I can, shutting it as though some stranger is chasing me.

  “What the hell is that all about?” Holly asks, wiping her hands on the dishtowel. Chloe and Tara are running around, screaming and laughing. When I enter the family room, I release a relieved breath that Drew is asleep in Uncle Clyde’s arms.

  “Where are Caden’s parents?” I ask, since there’s no sign of them anywhere.

  “I sent them to the hotel.” Aunt Holly finishes loading the dishwasher. “And now, it’s bath time,” she pretends to chase after the girls, and they squeal up the stairs. “You,” she points to me, “stay,” she instructs and points to the couch.

  Uncle Clyde gives me a tight smile, and I solemnly walk toward him, finally figuring out why Trey was my only option for a ride home tonight. I’m about to take Drew from his arms when he shakes his head and nods toward the seat on the couch. I don’t think I’ve sat down for more than five minutes all day, and I’m antsy without a child to hold or a task to complete. “Where’s Trey?” he asks casually, like he knows nothing of the break-up.

  “On his way home, I assume,” I answer, fidgeting with my fingers.

  “Why?” he arches his eyebrow, and I bite the inside of my cheek.

  “Give it up, Uncle Clyde. I know you know.” I roll my eyes with irritation.

  “Watch it, I’m still your elder,” he jokingly warns. “Stop being stubborn,” he tells me, and I curl my legs up under me on the couch. The sound of small footsteps running along the hallway has me thinking I should be up there instead of here. “Holly can take care of them,” he informs me and widens his eyes anticipating my answer.

  “You know as well as I do that he doesn’t need us in his life.” Uncle Clyde and I have always had a close relationship. I still remember asking him question after question about my parents. With him being my mom’s brother, I would dig into their past growing up and my parents’ marriage. A pre-teen in the mountains of Colorado for an entire summer with no friends, can be much like a game of This Was Your Life. He always took my interrogations with ease and finesse, weaving in and out of certain topics only divulging necessary bits of information.

  “True,” he nods his head with agreement. My head zips up, and his smiling face looks my way. “He doesn’t need an instant family. He just graduated, and now his girlfriend just became a guardian of three kids. Can you imagine what he must be thinking?” I’m not sure where exactly Uncle Clyde is going with this, but I remain quiet, waiting for the ‘aha’ moment. “What? That’s all I have.” He stands up and rocks Drew in his arms. “Time to get this little guy to bed.” He stands in front of me, and my vision follows him until he disappears out of my peripheral sight. “But, Kailey, remember, sometimes you want things you don’t necessarily need. From what I see, Trey definitely wants not only you, but these three kids.”

  His thumping footsteps go upstairs and after ten minutes the house rests. No more little footsteps scurrying across the floor or laugher bellowing down the hall. Just silence. I turn on the television, needing the noise of distraction. Yukon Men is on, it’s a show Trey got me addicted to, and I half wonder if he’s watching it now too. Allowing myself to forget my life and live in someone else’s for just sixty minutes, I grab a pillow and lay down.

  The clattering of pots and pans wake me the next morning. The television shut off and a blanket over my body, has me thanking Aunt Holly. Then my heartbeat increases. The kids. I quickly stand up and am about to run upstairs when Holly is smiling my way as she whisks eggs. “Relax and have a cup of coffee,” she says motioning with her hands.

  “Chloe. Did she wake up? Have a nightmare?” I’m practically breathless from the anxiety.

  “She did wake up, but I was able to ease her back down. It was only once.”

  “Thank you. I guess I was more tired than I thought,” I place my head in my hands, staring down at my cup of coffee.

  “Well, if you’d let your boyfriend help out, you’d be more rested,” she smirks my way and turns her attention back to the stove. Fluffy pancakes cook on a skillet and bacon sizzles in the oven.

  “I don’t need the lecture from you too,” I prop my head in my one hand, bringing the warm delicious coffee to my lips.

  “Kailey, he loves you. Anyone can see that. I know you can too,” she says, flipping a few pancakes and then pouring the eggs into the hot pan.

  “It’s not about if he loves me,” I’m finally going to reveal my biggest fear. Something only Jen would have known.

  “What then? I don’t want to hear the bullshit about not tying him down.”

  “Of course it’s that. He deserves to live a happy life, have a family of his own someday,” I start explaining. “I made a mistake in Colorado. I should’ve fought him, not let him pursue me. I should’ve squashed it immediately. Then he wouldn’t be in this compromising position. He’d be free, living his life without this drama and heavy responsibility.”

  “Why didn’t you?” This is not the question I thought would come out of Aunt Holly’s mouth.

  “I had liked him for too long, and then suddenly he starts telling me he wants to date me. You know that one guy in high school that you just can’t stop staring at? The one who makes your body shiver with goose bumps just from the sound of his voice? The one you secretly hope to be seated next to or partnered up with in Biology class? The one that you hope one day notices you and falls madly in love with you for ever and ever?” I don’t know if I’ve ever been this honest with anyone about my infatuation with Trey before he knew I existed.

  “Doesn’t everyone have that one crush? But it doesn’t mean that it can’t come true. That the prince can’t open his eyes one day to find out his Juliette has patiently been waiting for him.” She mixes up her fairytales, but I understand her meaning. God, I love Trey with every beat of my heart, and that’s why I won’t let him pay for my mistake.

  “No, it’s just a fairytale. There’s a reason he never noticed me before. I was just a conquest he tried to conquer and now he’s mistaking it for love.” I can practically feel the coldness of the lies I’m spouting, but it will get me through today. If I can escape the funeral without Trey coming home with me, he has a chance, an opportunity to escape us and find his own life.

  “Aw, sweetie, you obviously see a very different man than I do then,” she says, giving me a weak smile and turning her complete attention to the stove.

  I’m shocked she actually lets the subject rest, that’s never been her way. Eventually, the girls come downstairs, sleepy eyed and tired. No doubt from their late night. Usually we’re stricter with the bedtimes, but we’re all in uncharted territory.

  Chloe sits in her chair while Tara climbs into my lap. My fingers run through Tara’s hair cut in a short bob, similar to Jen. Their resemblance is uncanny. My heart aches for my sister. I already miss her, and it’s only been a few days. Since Tara is nuzzling up to me, pushing her head in the crock of my neck, I know she’s missing her too. The kitchen quiets and even the charismatic Chloe is silent and solemn. Aunt Holly flitters around, placing food filled plates on the table, grabbing the margarine out of the refrigerator, and opening drawers and cabinets for silverware and plates, stacking them on the table. “Don’t
just sit there, set the table,” she demands, and Chloe and I start placing plates and silverware out. Tara jumps off my lap and turns on the television, sitting down in her Dora pillow chair.

  “Look who woke up?” Uncle Clyde comes downstairs with Drew his arms. I’m surprised to see how fitting of a father he is, since he and Holly never had children of their own. Drew squirms out of his arms and after Uncle Clyde lets him down, he waddles into the room with Tara. Standing up, Uncle Clyde hugs me. “Did you do any thinking last night?” he asks.

  “No, she passed out on the couch before I even made it downstairs,” Holly answers for me. “She’s still being blind and stubborn,” she informs him, and he shakes his head in disapproval.

  Ignoring their comments, I grab a sippy cup, fill it with milk, and take it to Drew. Pouring Chloe and Tara’s milk, I place them at their settings and excuse myself to go get ready. My feet skid to a stop when I hear Chloe say to Aunt Holly, “These are much better than Trey’s. Where is he?” A heart wrenching pain hits my chest. Is it really fair that I take him away from her too? Quickly, I disregard the thought, it’s better now than in a few months when this life becomes too much for him to bear.

  I pass the closed bedroom door to Caden and Jen’s room. Briefly, I think how I would have borrowed something from Jen to wear today on any other occasion. All her beautiful dresses and pants suits from the dinners and faculty events she attended with Caden. The noise from kitchen float up the stairs showing the kids are finally really waking up. My hand reaches for the doorknob on its own accord. Twist it, I tell myself. Bury yourself in the grief, surround yourself in it. Looking down at the floor, I rush in and shut the door behind me.

  The smell of fresh linen and cotton has my eyes closing in remembrance of my sister’s favorite scent. Her room spray that she had to swap for candles after the kids came rests on the dresser counter. The bed is made with the precision Caden always possessed. The suitcases sit on the floor next to the footstool. Trey must have brought them in when we returned. Pictures of her and Caden at their wedding, the day they brought Drew home, and all of us last spring on the porch steps line along her dresser. A bowl full of dried up rose petals from the first bouquet Caden ever brought her amongst them. Slowly I walk to the bathroom and their toothbrushes rest next to their designated sinks. Caden’s cologne placed on his shelf with his aftershave and deodorant. Everything exactly where it should be as though he had outlines drawn to where they belong.

  Jen’s side a little messier, her hairbrush laying on the counter with strands of her chestnut hair weaved through the prongs.

  I walk into their enormous walk in closet. The one Jen demanded Caden redo when they bought the house. There are shelves for her sweaters, shoe racks for her high-end designer shoes. All of Caden’s ties rest on a custom made tie rack Jen had made for him when he became Professor at Western. Jen had ‘Professor Hottie’ engraved across the top. His laundered shirts, hanging up according to color, plaids, or stripes. A small smile creeps across thinking about how Jen and I always imitated his obsessive-compulsive tendencies, and he would tell us that is a serious condition. We would continue laughing until he would leave the room in a huff throwing a pillow at us. For the first time, it hits me; I’ll never have that again. There are no more movie nights where Jen and I force Caden to watch a chick flick while he sits there begrudgingly, secretly enjoying it. We won’t have the rock, paper, scissor game to predict who washes the dishes after a holiday meal. Nothing in my life will be the same again.

  A flood of memories come over me. Caden’s expression when I slammed the door in his face that first time I met him. When he asked me for Jen’s hand in marriage and included me in the planning. Their small wedding at Aunt Holly and Uncle Clyde’s, Jen with flowers in her hair like some free spirited hippie. Caden in his nice blue suit, his eyes only on her as she walked to him. When Chloe came home and the small bickering between them on who would feed, or change her. Me getting up in exasperation to just make it stop. Their laughter when I returned that it was a game to get me to do it. Me throwing the pillow in their faces then.

  All the loss becomes too much for me, and I grab one of Caden’s sweatshirts, throwing it over my head. Pulling a scarf of Jens down, I sink to the floor, curl up in a ball and cry into the scent that’s home. That mixture of Caden’s musk cologne and Jen’s crisp peach lotion that made them, Jen and Caden, a love that ended much too early.

  Sobs scream out of me. My fists bang the carpet. My legs curl into me. I’m not sure how long it’s been before Uncle Clyde busts into the room and sits down next to me. Placing his hand on my back, he whispers things will be okay, we will get through this. I allow him to tell me all the bull shit people say after someone dies. I stand up and hug him, saying he’s right and I’ll be fine. Then I walk out of the room, get in the shower, and dress in my best black dress.

  Aunt Holly and I dress the girls while Uncle Clyde takes care of Drew. We do their hair and make them look like beautifully angelic girls. Aunt Holly shifts her skeptical gaze to me occasionally. She sees the coldness in every step I make, the robotic moves and directions. I’m slowly shutting down just like I did when I was ten. Pretty soon I’ll be completely in a black hell, it’s safer there. I don’t give a shit what anyone says; I’d rather be alone than feel this heartache again. Twice in one lifetime is enough for me.

  Chapter 19

  Trey

  I sit in the driveway and bang my head against the steering wheel before throwing the car in reverse and speeding off. Not wanting to go home, I continue driving. Thoughts of my whole life float through my head like a slideshow of pictures. All the girls, drinking, and band gigs swarm around my memory of my college years. The baby and Zoey peek through the fog of my mistakes the past five years. I just can’t let Kailey push me away when every fiber in me screams she’s where I belong. It’s her and the kids I’m meant to be with. They’re a package deal, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Now I just need her to stop being so fucking stubborn.

  Hours later, I pull in my driveway, and Bridgette’s house is thundering with music and high-pitched laughter. Cars line up and down the street while students mill around the yard with red Solo cups and cigarettes. This is the first time in months that I crave a cigarette. I park the car and holler over at a group of guys huddled around the keg. A guy turns around, and I ask him to bum a cigarette. He’s on his way over when Bridgette appears out of nowhere and holds a butt of one to my lips. She flicks the lighter, and I allow her to stick the cigarette in my mouth before raising the lighter. Inhaling deep, I can’t help but let my eyes wander down her exposed cleavage lit up from the red iridescent glow of the flame. When my eyes turn back up, she’s flirtatiously smiling up at me. A look that would have had me pushing her up against the side of the house already in my former life.

  “I heard about Professor Campbell and his wife,” she says flatly. “Shouldn’t you be playing your role of daddy now? Or is the mommy still wanting you to chase her.” Her bitter words has me wanting to flick the lit cigarette in her face.

  “God, Bridgette. Jealous?” I accuse, wishing like hell I would’ve just gone into the house.

  “Why would I be jealous? She might have gotten you wrapped around her finger, but people like you and me don’t change, Trey.” She takes her finger and slowly moves it down the front of my shirt. “It’s probably for the best, you would’ve broken her heart eventually,” she finishes and smirks up at me.

  “You don’t know shit. You’re just a fucking slut, whom no one gives a shit about. I get it, I hurt you. You thought you could be more to me that a good time, but you weren’t. And seeing how spiteful you can be makes me pretty damn happy about that. Don’t hate Kailey because you’re jealous of her. I know there’s a lot to be jealous of, she’s pretty fucking spectacular, but you’ll never be it the same league. Hell, I’m not in the same league, but god damn it if I’m not going to try to make her believe I’m good enough for her,” I assert and tur
n around toward the house.

  “Whatever, Trey, I give it a month tops.” She yells out, and I raise my hand as I continue to walk away and flip her off.

  Sadie and Brady are watching a movie. Dex is most likely out. I grab a beer and join them, but it’s another fucking eighties movie. Does Brady have any balls? He’s so damn whipped. Not able to take another love story, I catch the light on in the detached garage. Rob’s in there, working on his Mustang. Figuring at least he’ll give me a fight that might release some of this aggression that’s overflowing in me I head that way.

  His long legs lay out from under the car and the cranking of a wrench can be heard from below. “Hey, dipshit, what are you working on?” I announce my presence. Gotta say, I’m surprised he’s not next door at the party.

  “What the hell do you want?” He rolls himself out and the grease along his fingers tells me something’s not working right.

  I take a long pull of my beer. “Need to work off some steam. Either we fight, or I’ll help you.”

  He shuffles over and grabs his own beer, staring at me for a few beats of a second, almost contemplating if he wants my help or not. “I’m getting it ready to race, changing out a few things, so it runs smoother and faster.” He tosses me a wrench, and I take his spot, lying down and sliding under the car.

  This is an area Rob and I have always seen eye to eye. He helped me restore my pride and joy, and I’ve given him a hand on his. “I’m still surprised, you bought a new car,” I yell up through the insides of the car.

  “Yeah, I think I was just caught up in that instant mediocre fame and the little amount of money I was making on my own. Should’ve bought something to fix-up, make it my own,” he admits. Once I get the new high-torque mini starter tightened, I slide back out.

  “It will be your own, but it’s a shame you’ll put so much more money into it.” I toss my empty beer in the trashcan and grab another from his cooler.