by Jamie Canosa
“Cal? What’s wrong?” Although, I was pretty sure I already knew the answer to that. “Cal?”
He blinked and choked on his next breath, gasping for air I knew he couldn’t find.
“Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright.” Reaching across the console, I rubbed his back, trying to remember what else he’d done for me when I’d had a panic attack. A lot of that night was blurry in my memory, but I knew I’d only made it through because of him.
Every last one of his muscles were strained. His chest rose and fell in a short, shallow rhythm. “I . . . can’t.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” My eyes stung. I couldn’t stand seeing him like that. Cal, the rock that everyone depended on. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
“I can’t . . .” He struggled over every word, forcing them out through gritted teeth. “Be. Here.”
“Okay. Okay.” Not being there was definitely something I could do. “I can fix that.”
Please, for the love of all things good in the world, start, you hunk of junk.
My prayer was answered. The engine turned over with a loud clang, but it turned over and I threw it into drive. Speeding past the 5mph signs posted every ten feet, I cleared the gates and kept going, one eye on the road and the other on Caulder.
The more distance we put between us and the cemetery, the better he seemed to be. A mile and he eased back into his seat, no longer curled into himself. Five miles and his breathing began to even out. Ten and pain morphed into anger.
“Dammit!” He lashed out, striking the dashboard before scrubbing his hand over his face.
I drove another quarter mile before I found a deserted parking lot to pull into. “You hanging in there?”
His small huff of laughter sounded more forced than genuine.
“Yeah. I’m hanging.” Shaking his head, Caulder sighed. “I’m sorry. I really thought I could do it. I haven’t . . . I haven’t been there since . . .”
“Me, neither,” I confessed.
That got me a surprised look. “Really?”
“I couldn’t do it, either.”
Surprise sank into remorse. “I didn’t know. I thought . . . I didn’t mean to make you—”
“You didn’t make me do anything.” We could put the kibosh on that right now. “I could have said no.”
The regret didn’t lessen, but he nodded, willing to let it go. “I never expected the pain to go away, but I thought . . . I don’t know . . . that it would lessen, ya know?”
I shook my head because I did know. “It hasn’t.”
“Not one damn bit.”
“Almost every day there’s something that reminds me of him. Something small and insignificant that comes along and . . .”
“Steals your breath?”
He got it. He really got it. I’d tried talking to my mother about it a few times and she’d always listened—nodded in all the right places—but I knew she didn’t really understand what I was feeling. Words could never do it justice. But Caulder didn’t need words. He got it because he’d lived it. “Yeah.”
Caulder’s eyes drifted as he nodded absently to himself. “Yeah.”
“There’s somewhere else I go.” Somewhere private. But I couldn’t sit there, watching Caulder struggle to find a way to reconnect with his brother and keep getting shut down. I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like not having somewhere I could go to feel close to Kiernan all that time. “When I want to talk to him.”
“Where?” The unguarded hope in his eyes scarred me.
“I’ll show you.”
***
Branches gave way to tall grasses, dancing in the late afternoon breeze. It was beautiful all the time, but fall was my favorite. Surrounded by a collage of color, it was like stepping into a painting. An incredible experience, one Cal seemed to agree with, standing open-mouthed, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
“How did you find this place?” He hadn’t been particularly keen on following me off the marked path, but I was guessing he was rethinking that now.
“I didn’t. Kiernan did. He brought me here . . . when I was having a bad day.” No need to ruin a perfectly nice moment, in a perfectly nice place, with mention of Doug’s name.
“How did he find it?” Cal was still gaping at the scenery, taking in the river cutting through the rustling grass.
“I don’t really know. By accident, I think. We used to come here, sometimes.” Memories of the midnight train crossed my mind, but that was something just between Kiernan and me.
“It’s . . . amazing.”
I couldn’t disagree. “I’ve come here a bunch of times on my own since . . .” No need to mention that, either. “I swear I can feel him, sometimes. I don’t know if I believe in spirits, but I think . . . if Kiernan were still around . . . this is where he’d be.”
“This was your place? Yours and Kiernan’s?”
I nodded, unable to find any more words for it.
“And you’re sharing that with me?” He looked stunned.
“Cal . . . He was your brother. If anyone deserves a place to go to feel close to him, it’s you.”
Caulder swallowed hard, dragging his gaze from me to watch the leaves blow into the river and drift away.
“Thank you.” The words were barely a whisper, carried to me on the breeze.
“I’ll be in the car.”
It was clear he needed time to himself. Time with his brother. Time to process and grieve and, God help him, maybe find some measure of peace.
***
I sat in silence, lost in my own thoughts, watching the tree line where the path emerged until well after dark. The sun sank slowly in my rearview mirror, blinding me for a while. I let it, feeling the car fill with its final rays before it disappeared below the horizon, snuffing them all out. Fall days ran the gauntlet from hot to cold, but nights were always the same. A preview of things to come.
My mind sat perched at the top of the hill in the clearing with Cal, so I barely noticed the dip in temperature until my skin began to pebble. It had been one of those warmer days when I’d left the apartment, so I hadn’t bothered with a jacket or long sleeves. A mistake I was beginning to lament when Caulder materialized in the pale moonlight.
He slid into the passenger side, rubbing his hands together and looked from the dashboard to me like I’d lost my mind. “Are you crazy? Why don’t you have the heat on? It’s freezing in here.”
I shrugged.
Caulder frowned. “Tell me the heater works.”
I couldn’t tell him that. So, I didn’t tell him anything.
“Dammit, Jade.”
“Don’t start.” It was on my to-do list. Someday. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Yes.” The frown still hadn’t left his lips as he secured his buckle.
I had every intention of dropping Caulder off and heading home. It was getting late and I was tired. Caulder had other plans. As soon as I had the car in park, he reached over and snagged the keys out of the ignition.
“I kinda need those,” I pointed out uselessly.
“Not yet, you don’t. You’re coming inside.”
“I am?” That was news to me.
“Angel, you just sat in a freezing cold car for two hours waiting on me. The least I owe you is a hot meal.”
“Cal, you don’t owe me—”
“Jade.” The look in his eye said more clearly than words ever could have that this was not an argument I was going to win.
“Fine.” Sighing, I threw open my door and I didn’t have to see Caulder to know he was grinning.
I putzed around the kitchen while he amassed what looked to be about a week’s worth of groceries on the counter.
“Is that all for one meal?”
Caulder only shook his head and handed me a grater, followed by a block of cheese. “You do that. I’m making chicken parm.”
It seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go to. “You really don’t have to—”
I was done arguing. As ludicrous as it was, Caulder felt like he owed me something. If this was what he needed to do to feel even again . . . I could think of worse things than being forced to stuff my face with delicious food.
I grated the cheese without comment and chopped the tomato he passed my way when I was done. Most of it ended up smooshed on the cutting board, but Cal didn’t seem to mind. He scooped it all up, whipped it together and put it in a pan. Before long, the entire house smelled fantastic.
The bubbling concoction he pulled out of the oven twenty minutes later looked as good as it smelled. And it tasted even better. We ate in near silence. Caulder had been somewhere else all evening, leaving me to entertain myself in the media room, while he stared off into space. I wanted to ask him about his time in the clearing, but that was private. Between him and Kiernan. None of my business.
“This is delicious.”
He shrugged and shoved another bite in his mouth before mumbling around it, “Mom’s recipe.”
Not surprising. No one cooked like Mrs. Parks.
“How is she?” I hadn’t seen or heard from her at all since the funeral. A few times I’d thought about calling her, checking in, but I wondered if she hadn’t done the same because it was too painful for her. If I was too painful. Too much of a reminder. The last thing I wanted to do was cause her more pain.
Caulder looked at me and blinked like he was just now registering that I was in the room. “Good.” He shook his head, clearing away the cobwebs. “Sorry. I think I spaced on you. Mom’s good. I mean . . . she’s alright.”
I nodded my absolute understanding of the difference between those two. “It’s okay. It’s been a long day.”
“That it has. You done?”
I glanced down at my empty plate, which I had all but licked clean. “Yeah. Thank you.”
“Anytime. Why don’t you stay put while I clean this up so Mom doesn’t pitch a fit and then we can talk.”
“Sure.” I didn’t know what we had to talk about, but whatever it was, it had to be better than going home to face Mom. By now the odds of being able to hold a coherent conversation with her were slim-to-none.
He gathered the dishes, refusing my help when I offered, and disappeared into the kitchen. I tried, but I couldn’t just sit there listening to him clean up a mess I’d help make, so I got up and started to wander while I waited for him to finish.
Caulder was right, the Parks’ house felt different. Colder. Quieter. The comfort I’d always found in being there diminished somehow. Like something was missing. I found myself wandering upstairs without thinking about it. My feet leading me to the place where that vital part should be.
Kiernan’s bedroom door stood closed. I reached for the knob and froze, my fingers wrapped around the smooth, cool metal fixture, uncertain what I’d find on the other side. What if he was gone? What if they’d boxed up all that remained of him? What if—?
With a steadying breath, I eased the bone aching grip I had on the doorknob and twisted. I’d never know if I didn’t look.
I should have known better. Mrs. Parks and Caulder couldn’t have erased Kiernan from their lives any more than I could. His room sat exactly as it had been when he was there. Exactly. His sheet crumpled near the foot of the bed. His blanket half hanging on the floor. Sneakers sat discarded in the corner near his closet. A book lay open on his nightstand, facedown, marking the last page he’d ever read. All of it covered in a fine layer of dust.
Forget packing it up, I didn’t think either of them had set foot in there at all.
A black t-shirt lay in a heap on the floor beside his hamper and I bent to pick it up. I don’t know if it was weird, or gross, or disturbing, but I couldn’t stop myself from smelling it. It smelled like him. The whole room smelled like him.
An overwhelming urge to crawl under his blankets and never come out swamped me. I could lie there forever, breathing him in, surrounded by his belongings, bathed in his scent. I could feel his presence around me. The desire was so powerful that I might have done exactly that if I hadn’t heard a quiet gasp behind me.
Caulder stood in the hallway, staring, but not at me. Past me. Into Kiernan’s room. His gaze bouncing from one item to the next, the same way mine had, his pale face awash with agony.
“Cal?”
He made some kind of horrible sound deep in his throat and turned away. Before I could blink, he was across the hall, shut inside his own room.
I was right. They hadn’t set foot inside Kiernan’s room since the day he died. And I’d just opened the door to a whole world of hurt.
“Caulder?” I saw the muscles in his back strain beneath the material of his shirt as I stepped into the room.
“Go away.” His voice rumbled low from deep in his chest.
“I’m so sorry. Cal, I didn’t mean to—”
“Go away, Jade!” He punctuated his harsh words with a weak fist to the wall beside his face.
The old me would have run for the hills. I would have heard him and cursed myself for making him angry. But Kiernan had taught me better than that. He’d taught me to listen. And truly listening, I heard an entirely different story.
He wasn’t angry. He was crumbling. Falling to pieces the way that I had so many times. And while he may have claimed he wanted me to go, what he needed was for me to stay.
It was hard not to see Caulder as this pedestal, this stand, holding everyone else up. A slab of solid granite without feelings or emotions. But that wasn’t true. He wasn’t some hunk of rock, no matter how much he pretended to be. He was a man. A man suffering every bit as much as the rest of us. A man struggling to support everyone around him, while he received little in return. An exhausted, heartbroken, weary man who lent all of his strength to the people he cared about, saving none of it for himself. And it was killing him.
“No.” The word came out quiet and shaky, but it still made me feel stronger than I ever had in my life. “I’m not going anywhere, Cal. I’m here.” Swallowing hard, I laid a hand on his back and felt him shudder beneath my touch. “I’m right here.”
He hurled a broken curse at the wallpaper, but the sob that accompanied it tore straight through me.
“It’s okay.” Without thinking, my hand slid down his back and around his waist, followed by the other. Encircling him with as much strength as I could muster, I laid my cheek against his back. “I’m here.”
I don’t know if his legs gave out or if he simply stopped willing them to hold him up, but he twisted in my arms and drew me down with him as he collapsed to the carpet, where I somehow ended up in his lap. Hot tears dampened my shoulder where he buried his face. The material of my shirt lifted and bunched where he fisted it against my back. I didn’t speak. I didn’t cry. I simply held him. I held him together as best as I could while he fell apart in my arms. Finally pouring out what felt like years’ worth of pent up grief and frustration.
Hours passed by the time Caulder’s desperate sobs turned to occasional stuttering gasps. He still held tight to me as though he couldn’t bear to let go, but I could tell he was fighting a losing battle with exhaustion. I didn’t plan to make him choose.
Easing myself from his lap, I felt Caulder’s grasp tighten, clinging with a silent plea.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I whispered the reassuring words over him as I lowered us both to lying on the plush carpeting, too tired myself to go any farther.
Caulder didn’t seem to mind, curling into my side and pillowing his head against my shoulder. I ran my fingers through his unruly hair as a thick arm wrapped snuggly around my waist, assuring himself of my continued presence as he surrendered to sleep.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Four
I woke to the feel of warm fingers tracing light patterns over the bare skin of my arm. I didn’t open my eyes, but the red glow against my lids assured me that the sun had, indeed, risen. I’
d spent the night. With Caulder. In his bedroom.
“I always knew you were an angel.” His lazy fingers swirled lower, skimming over the rapid pulse in my wrist. “I just never knew you were my angel. And yes,” his fingers stopped moving and I felt him shift beside me, “I know you’re awake.”
Peeking open one eye, I gave him a half-hearted cheesy grin, embarrassed at having been caught playing possum. “Good morning?”
“Morning, Angel.” He smiled back, brushing a stray tangle of hair from my face. He sounded a million times better than the night before, but the emptiness in his eyes, the strain in his smile was all still there. “And, yes, it’s a good one. Thanks to you. I’m sorry about last night.”
“Don’t be.” Rolling onto my side, I propped myself up on an elbow, which may have been a mistake as it brought our faces within inches of each other. Close enough that I could feel his breath wash over my lips.
“I didn’t mean to lay all of that on you. I just . . .” His dark brows drew down in confusion and he shrugged. “I don’t know what happened.”
“I do.” Cauder’s eyes shot to me with barely concealed surprise. “It was too much. All of it. You can’t keep that much pain bottled up inside and not expect it to find a way out.” It was slowly chewing its way through him, creating its own fissures of escape. One of those fissures burst through the surface last night. More would follow. “You have to find a way to let it go or you’re going to self-destruct.”
“How?” His eyes searched mine, desperate to find the answer. “How do I do that?”
I shut my eyes and shook my head because the truth was, I didn’t have the slightest idea. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
They opened again at the feel of his fingers shifting hair from my face. “You hungry? I can make breakfast.”
“What time is it?” I arched my back to try and see past his bed, but it was no use.
Caulder chuckled at my contorted attempts and lifted himself to look at the clock. “Six-thirty.”