The Day That Saved Us

by Mindy Hayes

  She rolls her eyes. “He knows my goals. He was just trying to help me keep them.”

  Don’t be stupid, Peyton. This isn’t you.

  “Gotcha.”

  The comfort I used to seek in our silence is absent. It stretches and grows strained the longer we dance. It seems like the more time we spend together, the further apart we grow. Will we eventually become two people who are in the same family, but no longer know each other at all, who dread going to family functions and avoid family time so we don’t have to ever see one another?

  Peyton steps closer, but it’s more like she doesn’t want to look at me and is closing the distance so she doesn’t have to anymore.

  “Brooke seems nice.”

  I could take that statement several different ways, but it seems most like an olive branch.

  “Yeah, she’s pretty great.”

  “She’s really pretty, too.”

  My eyes are drawn to Brooke as she dances with Tyler. Their movements are stiff and painful to watch. I know it’s Brooke’s doing, and I feel a little satisfaction knowing she’s not tempted by his charm. Okay, a lot of satisfaction.

  She spent hours curling her long hair this morning. It cascades around her, covering her bare back in chocolate waves. Her airport blue dress—at least that’s what she calls it, airport blue—brushes her thighs and hugs her hips. I’m regretting asking her to occupy Tyler. I don’t like that his hands are touching her. “Yeah,” I agree, debating on cutting this dance short and taking back Brooke.

  “Do you ever think about that summer?” Peyton’s voice is so soft. It’s almost inaudible, but I hear her so loudly.

  Is it even possible to forget that summer? If so, I feel like I would have done it already. I’ve tried hard enough. But there isn’t time long enough, substances strong enough, hobbies consuming enough to drown out the memories of that summer.

  “Yes.”

  The song comes to an end.

  In the space between I ask, “Do you?”

  She lets me go without a glance. “No.”

  And just like that, the world I built in my head—a world that disregarded black and white and painted the landscape in shades of gray, where we couldn’t be judged for our feelings and our so-called twisted love was accepted as it is, a world where we ignored our pride and took a risk to be together—came crashing down.

  This was her final goodbye.

  As well as mine.

  Goodbye, world of gray. You were my best dream.

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE I let you talk me into this,” Peyton grumbles from the passenger’s seat. I practically had to drag her out of her apartment on my way to Charleston, but I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Not this time.

  “Look. I don’t want to go to this stupid ceremony any more than you do, but my mom really thinks we should. We’re doing this for her. I don’t want to disappoint her. So, if I have to be there, you do too.”

  “I can’t believe Tate is siding with them.” Peyton sinks further into the seat, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s wearing a black dress with her hair in a messy ponytail. It’s not that I know much about girl’s hairstyles, but I can tell Peyton didn’t give a crap about what she looked like when she did her hair. I’m not even sure she brushed it. Of course, she’s still beautiful, but if I didn’t know any better I’d think we were going to a funeral. I see pouty five-year-old Peyton all over again. Her bottom lip pokes out, and her eyebrows squish together.

  I drag my hand over my face. “I think it has more to do with the fact that she wants our relationships mended. If we ditched the wedding, it would only cause a deeper wedge, and it doesn’t only affect us. It affects her, too. The more we push away, the more the backlash falls on her.” She would never tell me that, but I know it does. Which is so messed up in it’s own right. She’s the one who got screwed over, but if we don’t want to be a part of this ridiculous new family, it gets blamed on her, as if she’s forcing us to side with her. Never once has she asked me to be on her side. There are no sides. It’s not an us-against-them battle. Everyone lost. But if there were an us-against-them, Peyton and I would be aligned against the world and its cruelties. That’s right, world. We’re fighting.

  My mom wants me to regain a good relationship with my dad, but that’s not her decision. He obliterated any chances of that when he decided his happiness was more important than she was.

  “That’s so stupid,” Peyton says. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. If anything, your mom has been a saint. They should be thanking her for not blowing this out of the water and slandering their names.” She mumbles, “Not that people couldn’t figure out what happened.”

  I can’t help but laugh. Not that Peyton’s animosity is humorous, but it kind of is, because I get it. Everything she said is so true.

  “Will Carter be there?”

  “I don’t know if my mom could convince him to go. I tried talking to him, but it’s possible he’s against this more than we are. And I can’t blame him for that. He still needs time to work through his anger.”

  “If only drinking and girls could solve all of my problems,” Peyton grumbles and looks out the window. I snort. “You know what I mean. Not girls, girls, just…forget it.”

  “I get it,” I say with a laugh. “Loosen up, will you? We’ll get through this a lot easier if we can keep our mouths shut and have fun together.”

  “You honestly believe today will be fun.” She looks at me, deadpan.

  “Well, not with that attitude.” I smile as an idea comes to mind. “Let’s play a game. Every time one of them calls the other ‘babe’ or ‘sweetheart’ we get a point. So, if it’s my dad, you get a point. If it’s your mom, I get a point.”

  Once their relationship became public, it was like pet names became their given names. They don’t call each other by their actual names anymore. And every time I hear it, I gag.

  A disgusted groan passes her lips. “And these points add up to…?”

  “Whoever has the most points by the end of the day has to buy dinner.”

  “You’re on.”

  OLIVIA, IN A short cream dress, is standing next to my dad on the sidewalk with tears in her eyes when she sees Peyton and me get out of the car in front of the Charleston County courthouse.

  “Mom, I told you we were coming,” Peyton says with a sigh and hugs her. It’s not a usual Peyton hug. Hugging Peyton always makes me feel loved, important. She has a way of hugging so tightly it feels like she never wants to let go. This time her arms limply wrap around Olivia’s waist, and she pulls away almost instantly.

  “I know, but I still wasn’t sure if you’d show up,” she says. Olivia takes a second to appraise Peyton’s dress. She thinks better of saying anything. “We’re so grateful you came to support us.”

  Peyton meets Olivia’s eyes and articulates her reply. “Us being here doesn’t mean we’re okay with this.”

  Olivia nods her understanding and wipes the tears from her face. “And yet, you’re here anyway, so thank you.”

  Peyton nods, but she doesn’t smile. It’s clear their relationship is still strained. It’s about as pleasant as my relationship is with my dad. I’m not sure we’ll ever have the same bond we used to. There’s too much pain and betrayal to be forgotten. Even if we do forgive them someday, I don’t see how anyone could go back to normal. Nothing about their relationship is normal. Maybe we’ll look happy on the outside, but I feel it may always be superficial, that we’ll go through the motions so we can get by. We’ll never truly get past this.

  “Son.” My dad steps forward and clasps me on the shoulder with a nod of thanks. I don’t acknowledge it. “Where’s Carter?”

  “He won’t be here.”

  He tightens his lips and nods. The disappointment isn’t unexpected, but he should know better. Carter hasn’t spoken a word to him since he left for college in September. He’s going to school in town at College of Charleston, but he cut off communication as soon as Mom wasn
’t there anymore to encourage him to play nice. I wish I had the same luxury.

  While we weren’t exactly on speaking terms after I left for Duke, I eventually gave in and answered my dad’s calls six months ago. Our relationship has been difficult and forced, but I manage to give him as much respect as I can muster when we’re in person. I don’t respect his decisions, but I respect that he’s still my father. Carter, on the other hand, is taking his sweet time to patch things up. I pity Dad too much to shut him out completely.

  PEYTON AND I sit toward the back of the courthouse. Olivia’s parents come and sit in front of us, but my dad’s parents don’t show up. I’m not surprised. They love my mom. Whether there was a prior relationship with Olivia growing up or not, I know they aren’t happy with him.

  When I was home for the weekend a couple months ago, I overheard my mom talking on the phone with Grandma Fisher. It seems like my mom is trying to play peacemaker with everyone. I heard her say over and over again, “It’s okay, Mom. Stop apologizing. I’m fine.” I can imagine my grandma crying and apologizing for her son’s behavior. My grandma knows he’s obviously not sorry enough to fix it himself.

  I sort of zone out during the whole ceremony. It’s not long. The officiant says a few words, they repeat it. Yada, yada, yada. It all feels so meaningless. Small ceremony doesn’t even describe the wedding. There are four of us here. Four. Shouldn’t that tell them something? No one supports this.

  They don’t care.

  When the officiant pronounces them husband and wife, I peer at Peyton sitting next to me in her mourning dress. As I take a closer look, I’m reminded of a crying Peyton standing next to her father’s casket. It has to be the same dress she wore to Jon’s funeral. This is her passive aggressive act of defiance to remind them who else they screwed over when they chose each other.

  Tears fill Peyton’s eyes with a look of devastation. There could be a number of things going through her head, but it doesn’t matter what’s making her cry. I grab her hand lifelessly lying in her lap. She squeezes my hand so hard I think she might break my fingers.

  “All right, babe, you’re mine now,” I hear my dad say after they kiss.

  “Point for me.” Peyton smirks and dabs under her eyes with her free hand.

  “Dangit,” I hiss, but I smile at her.

  The points don’t start to tally up until after the wedding, when we walk down East Bay Street for dinner at Magnolias.

  “Babe, will you hand me my purse?” Point for me.

  “Sweetheart, did you grab the marriage license?” Point for Peyton.

  “You look so beautiful today, babe.” I inwardly cringe. Point for Peyton.

  “Oh, sweetheart, don’t forget about Mr. Lawson. He asked you to call him back.” Point for me.

  And it goes on and on. Peyton and I can only handle the hour at dinner before we get the hell out of dodge.

  “Twenty-three,” Peyton says.

  “Thirty-seven.” I sigh. “My dad sucks.”

  Peyton laughs a genuine belly laugh. And that’s all I wanted out of today. So, I guess, in reality, I won.

  I TAKE BROOKE to Botany Bay where seashells hang from bare trees and perch on driftwood along the shore. As a preserve, nothing in nature is allowed to leave the beach, so it’s covered in full-size conch shells and sand dollars. It’s one of my favorite places in Charleston. It might not be much for surf, or even for wading in the water, but it’s peaceful to sit and relax under the seashells and the shade of the palm trees.

  As we listen to the waves crash on the inclining shore, Brooke settles between my legs. I lean back on my hands and dig my palms into the sand.

  “This place is so beautiful. I bet it’s going to be really difficult for you to leave all of this for Boston.”

  “It’ll be hard, but I’ll manage. Boston will have its own charms.” I sigh, keeping my eyes set on the ocean. “The hardest part will be leaving my mom. At least for college, it was temporary. I could come home on the weekends whenever I felt like it. Now, I’ll have to plan around my work schedule, and plane tickets aren’t exactly as cheap as a couple tanks of gas.”

  She nods against my chest. “Understandable, but she’s a strong woman. I’m sure she’ll be okay. I really love her, by the way. She’s really sweet. I see where you get your good heart.”

  “I’m pretty sure she loves you, too.” I know she does. She told me as much.

  “I could get used to Charleston.” Brooke’s fingers run along the tops of my legs. “I really wish I didn’t have to drive back tonight.”

  I tug her closer to me, and she nestles into my chest. I nuzzle her neck with my nose and press my lips against her warm skin. “Mmm…me too.”

  “You seem different.”

  “Hmm?”

  She turns her head to peer up at me. “You. You seem…free. If that makes any sense.”

  I think about that for a minute. It’s hard to relax when I’m around my family. If I were to describe myself in one word, when I spend long periods of time with them it would be tense. Maybe because I’ve been tormented by thoughts of that summer in Hatteras for years, and now that I know Peyton is moving on, I have to, too. There’s nothing restraining me, tethering me to the hope of maybe someday. I’ve been tortured long enough. Now I can look at Brooke and be…free of Peyton Parker.

  “When I’m by the ocean I feel free.”

  She nods and hums her understanding. With the calming sound of the ocean waves, and the sound and smell of the fresh sea breeze, it’s impossible not to feel limitless.

  “Come to Boston with me.”

  Her eyes jump to me. “What?”

  I don’t want to be without Brooke. Not because I can’t be with Peyton, and Brooke is the next best thing, but because I see Brooke with fresh eyes, and I can’t imagine a life in Boston without her. She’s supposed to be there with me.

  I brush the strands of hair blown across her face away from her green eyes. “I want you to come to Boston with me. It doesn’t have to be right away. I know we haven’t really talked about this, and it’s a little sudden, but I don’t want to be there without you.”

  Her face, like a dimming switch being turned up, gradually lights up. I think I said the right thing. Her dimple deepens, and she nods. “Okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes.” Her nod is eager, vigorous. She flings her arms around my neck and matches her lips with mine.

  This kiss is unlike all the rest. And it’s not because she’s kissing me any differently. It’s me. All this time I don’t think I was truly kissing her back. Not that I was imagining Peyton, but I just don’t think I allowed myself to fully be consumed by Brooke Whitaker. There was always a piece, no matter how big or small, that resisted the love that was growing for her. So, I kissed her, but I never knew what it felt like to be in love with her and appreciate the kiss for more than physical contact. It’s no longer only lips pressed together in affection. It’s a heart-pounding, soul-changing, out of body experience. She’s everywhere.

  I lower us onto the blanket and let Brooke fill every chamber, every crevice of my heart.

  And I’m finally content.

  AFTER SPENDING CHRISTMAS Eve with my dad and Olivia, they head to bed, but Peyton and I decide to stay up for a little while. It’s been several months since we’ve seen each other. I don’t know exactly when the time between visits lengthened, but it seems like over the last year I only got to see her a few times. There was some weekend in February, then my birthday in June, and her birthday in September. While I promised to win her back, it seems like we’ve only drifted further.

  The strands of white lights on the Christmas tree illuminate the family room. We’ve turned off all the lights because Peyton loves the way the tree looks when it’s the only lighting in the room. I can’t take my eyes off them as they twinkle. I wonder what it would look like from below. I crawl across the carpet.

  “What are you doing?” Peyton laughs.

  “I want t
o know what the lights and ornaments looks like from underneath.” When I reach the tree, I turn on my back and look up at the shadows and colors. “It’s pretty cool. C’mere.”

  I feel Peyton come up beside me and lay down on the tree skirt, easing her head right next to mine. “I read about this in a book once. They’d made it a tradition. Every Christmas, they’d lay under the tree together and ponder the last year.”

  “Well, maybe we can make it our tradition, too.” Considering that’s kind of what I was doing. While under the tree, it feels like we’re isolated from the world. The house is quiet. It’s only the two of us. Uncertainly, I let my hand rest on top of hers between us, giving her the option to take it or pull away. I don’t want her to pull away. I want her to feel the deep need to be close to me as much as I feel it for her.

  Peyton hums her response, almost in a way to avoid saying yes or no. She doesn’t remove her hand, but she doesn’t take mine either. It’s a step, so I keep my hand where it is. My heart beats fast. Before I can intertwine my fingers with hers, she draws her hand back and places it over her stomach.

  I thought we’d been having a good night. The first in…I can’t even remember. The tension between our parents and us was nearly nonexistent. Carter even showed up, and he’s made it his life’s mission to avoid my dad at all costs. Only, the real test will be the deciding factor on where we stand.

  “Can I follow you home? ‘Cause my parents always told me to follow my dreams.”

  “Ha.” Her stare is glued to the branches above.

  No rebuttal. Not even a real laugh. Crash and burn.

  I can’t help it. I have to ask. “Did I do something wrong?”

  She’s quiet when she says, “No.”

  “Are you sure? I thought we were doing okay. You and me.” I roll onto my side to face her. I bump the branches, but I still manage to fit.

  “We are.”

  Her reassurance isn’t very reassuring. “There’s something else you want to say.”