Remember Us

by Lindsay Blake

  “Reese, come here.” He reached for me, and I hoped he couldn’t see I was blushing again. I melted into the cushioned periphery of his embrace.

  “I’m sorry, Blake.” I looked down at my feet and bit my lip. I had left his home abruptly that last morning, without an explanation, and I hadn’t revealed much in the ensuing months.

  He held my face with both hands. “Reese, you don’t need to be sorry.”

  “Hey, get your meaty hands off my big sister!” We fell apart as Ben barreled down the stairs.

  “Now Mr. Blake, who are you and where are you from? You were shaking so badly when I let you in I didn’t dare ask, I thought you might faint.” Bernice was back with a vengeance—sweet tea in one hand, a massive piece of coffee cake in the other. She never could leave well enough alone.

  “Can’t we let him sit down?”

  My mother looked at me with raised eyebrows and the corner of her mouth turned up in her trademark smirk.

  “Ben, Bernice, this is Blake from Ireland.” I rolled my eyes with an excitement I wanted to show. “Blake this is Bernice, and this is my twin brother, Ben. But he prefers to be called Jasper, it’s kind of his thing.” I gave Ben a slight shove.

  “Twin Jasper. Bernice—hullo.” He kept one hand on the small of my back as he proffered his other palm.

  “Why don’t you have an accent? Why isn’t your hair red?” Bernice looked suspiciously between me and Blake.

  “Don’t go all Miss Marple on him until he’s sitting down,” I said and communicated a lot more with my eyes.

  She squinted at me and ignored his outstretched hand. “Well, nice to meet you, Blake. Have you had breakfast?”

  “No, actually. I landed an hour ago, rented a car, and came straight here.”

  “Come into the kitchen, you can start with this.” She shoved the sweets higher. “We have more pancakes and bacon.” Bernice turned on her heels. “And if you’re really hungry, I can whip up some eggs. I gave birth twenty-six years ago today, you know.” She always knew how to command a room. Blake looked at me and smiled as we all followed Bernice into the kitchen.

  “So how did you two meet?” Bernice waved the coffee pot around as if she were going into battle, and I ducked. Rocky whimpered and hid under the table.

  “On a bus,” Blake said at the same time I said, “At a bar.” We both laughed. Having Blake in Dad’s home felt like a roller coaster ride between two towns called Beautiful and Terrifying, but as I listened to him compliment Bernice about her cooking and discuss baseball with Ben, I found myself relaxing.

  “But what if Bernice goes into one of her crazy cycles? Scratch that, what about when Bernice goes into one of her crazy cycles? Or her second one, or her third?” I moaned when Blake excused himself to use the bathroom and Bernice went to check on Dad. It was only Ben and me at the table, the vestiges of breakfast spread between us.

  “Right, because she’s the only one with insane tendencies here.”

  “Exactly. What’s going to happen?” I exhaled and thumped my head into my hands. The upside was Blake was staying across town so there would be lots of excuses to send him over to his room when things in the Hamilton house got all stirred up. And they would most certainly get stirred up.

  “Well, I guess it’s going to be fun.” Ben tugged my bun. “I have a few more questions for you, but I need to go into the office. I’ll see you for dinner.” He tapped out a beat across the table and pushed his chair back. “Oh, and sis, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Blake entered, and from the kitchen doorway, Ben pointed at him with a knowing nod and made a kissy face.

  I remember the first time I saw him, well the second, but I count it as the first.

  As the Irish say, he was fit. I noticed him as soon as I walked into the pub; he was incredibly handsome and his dark hair peeked from his Cubs hat, curled up at the ends. His five o’clock shadow was the perfect blend of rugged and masculine. I tried not to stare overtly, but he looked tall. Not weirdly tall, but normal, handsome tall.

  He glanced up and my stomach went shaky. I turned and moved to a seat in the corner, tucked away but angled so I had a visual. I pulled out a book and attempted to read. I found myself reading the same sentence over and over as I covertly glanced between my book and Mr. Brooding Dark Eyes.

  I’d been in Ireland three days, and it was time I drank a Guinness. Charlie and I had planned on celebrating our trip to Ireland and our first pint together, but in the end I grew tired of waiting for him. He was off schmoozing all the important people, and I needed to explore.

  Mr. Brooding Dark Eyes sat with an older man. He held his beer loosely in one hand, and the two of them were playing cards. Poker, I suspected. He threw his head back when he laughed, and did I imagine his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes? I pushed my black-rimmed glasses further up my nose and shook my head at the sure sign of his murky past or some complex tragedy. I knew he would tell me what haunted him on a star-filled night, under the moon. I could sense he wanted to tell me. Come to me, rugged man; your secrets are safe with me.

  He looked over and our eyes locked. Crap. A smile flicked across his gorgeous face. He said something to his friend, slammed down his beer and hopped around the table, heading straight toward me. He was the perfect tall.

  I’d been caught; how could I play this cool? The flush of my cheeks echoed in the warm fuzzies parading at varying angles between my stomach, heart, and head.

  Don’t panic.

  “Do you always carry a book around?” His accent wasn’t as thick as most.

  I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me and responded more defensively than I meant, with a curt “Yes.”

  “I do too.” He held Zen. “I’m reading Hemingway at the moment.” He proudly pulled a worn book from his back pocket as he sat across from me without an invitation. “I’m Blake.” He reached out his hand. His hands looked rough and he smelled like cedar. A few wood chips were stuck to his neck.

  “Reese.” I held on to my book tighter, a lifeline.

  “Nice seeing you again.”

  “Um, we haven’t met.”

  He looked at me quizzically until I blushed. And then I remembered. Of course. I put my face in my hands. The bus. It was my first day in the city, and I had been standoffish. I was tired, flustered and completely out of sorts. Yet he had been so kind, gentleman-like really.

  “I know it’s reading hour over here, but would you like to come sit with me and my Gramps? If you’re any good, you can play some poker.”

  And now he was here, in my kitchen, being drowned in a mountain of breakfast foods from the hands of Bernice.

  “Death by breakfast, that’s novel. But how will I break the news to Gramps?”

  “Hmm?” Blake searched my face. I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud.

  “Uh, nothing. Thanks for coming. I’m,” I took a sip of coffee, “I’m glad.”

  “I told you there was an adventure afoot. For a little more foreshadowing: in the book writing business, we’d say the climax is just around the corner and a happy ever after too. Well, we can hope.” He smiled until his eyes disappeared into the tops of his cheeks, and my stomach sang so much I had to look away.

  Bernice

  “As if I would let that young man drive across town each night to sleep. He is our guest, and I will not allow him to be shacked up in a dirty motel, with chigger sheets. Surely we can put up with a stranger for under a week before he takes his bus over to Chicago?”

  Benjamin and I huddled in the hallway beyond the kitchen and watched Reese and Blake angle toward one another. I smelled the morning’s bacon on my son’s breath.

  “Right. To have another dude around the house will be legend. We need it. Another guy to help keep The Balance. He could be Voldemort for all I care.”

  “Your balance? No sirree. This traipsing off to a hotel is not how Mama hosts a guest.” I racked my brain about how we could solve this.

  “It’s an Airbnb, Mom.”

&nbs
p; “Same difference.”

  “It’s actually not.”

  “Is there a free corner of your room where we could set up a cot?”

  “Mom!”

  “I was thinking about how you and Charlie used to love your slumber parties.”

  “Yeah, but that was Charlie. This is some guy I hardly know. It’s too weird. On the other hand, I don’t want to say I have a man crush on Blake, but the dude is Irish, has a Cubs cap, and says he can shred the guitar. Evening jam sessions just got legit.”

  “You are plumb giddy, Jasper. The downstairs guest room will do fine.” I’d unofficially moved back into my old room with Carl a week ago, but now I could make it official. “I don’t have much time to throw together a welcome basket, but at least I cleaned the sheets and towels yesterday. I’ll put the leftover grapes from breakfast onto a plate, stick it on his bed, and call it a day. Go grab his suitcase, will you? I need to stay here to see if he makes any moves on my Josephine.”

  “We should be so lucky.”

  “Feeding the babies, housing the babies, Southern Hospitality, you doth have a name, and your name is Bernice.”

  “Did you say something?” Benjamin turned back at the front door.

  “Oh, nothing, sugar. I’ll meet you back in the kitchen.”

  “I’m going to work.”

  “Well fine then. I’ll take lots of notes and fill you in later tonight.” I barely caught his thumbs up before I swiveled my concentration back to my daughter.

  “Why are you lying prone on your bed? Where’s Blake? Did you open your present yet?” Hours later, I peered about the edges of Reese’s room, but it was suspiciously barren of any traces of my gift.

  “I told him I needed to powder my nose.” She struggled to sit up.

  “But you don’t wear makeup.”

  “Right you are.” She scratched the side of her messy hair and shrugged. She looked stunning, my baby girl.

  “Baby, you are a hot mess today. I can do your makeup for you.” I took three graceful steps to the side of my daughter and reached for her face. She scooted toward the center of her faded paisley comforter.

  “That’s okay.”

  “At least let me pluck a few eyebrows and do something with your hair. This is our day, Josephine.” Since I brought life into this world twenty-six years ago today, I’d declared a protest against cooking dinner and booked a night out for all of us at The Grey Plume instead. Except Carl. He insisted tonight was a 7 p.m. bedtime, and I agreed. I wanted to soar tonight, and bless his heart, Carl had never quite been the soaring type.

  “I’ll throw myself out the window and be right down.” She flung herself back into her pile of pillows.

  “Josephine, let me help you.”

  Her only reply was a loud moan. I squeezed her hand but when I got nothing except more unintelligible sounds in response, I shook my head.

  “I, for one, have some grooming to do.” I spritzed her with wisteria and headed out. “Be downstairs in ten or we’re leaving without you.”

  The Hamilton women needed a night on the town and Benjamin and Blake were our escorts. I looked regal in my red dress, curled hair, and six-inch stilettos. Mama still had game. I didn’t wear my diamonds because this was Reese’s night too, so I went with the pearls.

  “Josephine, this is our night. We are worth celebrating, and I want the world to know it.” I stood at the head of the table, wine glass extended high. By their glances, I could tell the world knew her mother was one hot lady.

  “Uh guys? It’s my birthday too?” Benjamin looked put out.

  “Of course it is, sweetie.” I patted his head. “No one’s saying it’s not.”

  “Well, it’s our birthday, but to hear you two tell it, it’s Reese’s birthday and the day you gave birth, Mom.” He brandished his champagne like a wild man.

  “I did give birth, son.” I winked at him.

  “Contrary to the popular theory that babies get the most attention, it has always taken a lot of effort to get any acknowledgment around the Hamilton walls.” He crossed his arms.

  “Oh Ben, you’re everyone’s favorite, and you know it.” Reese made a face at her twin.

  “I see you found the tiara I arranged on your bed this morning, Reese.” Benjamin looked over at Blake. “Although it should have been mine, she took the firstborn throne, and while I spent most of my childhood fighting it, I finally resigned myself to her bossy ways. I buy her a different crown each year.”

  “Thankfully Maya is a big believer in all that birth order gibberish, and she fell in love with your free-spirited, fun-loving, uncomplicated demeanor.” Reese smirked back at him and my heart expanded three sizes. I was happy to sit back and listen to my kids.

  “You know, Ryan Gosling is the youngest in his family, and I’ve had several people compare us, both in looks and personality.”

  “Riiight,” Reese said.

  “Technically I am the baby, and I consider myself to be the tender, more altruistic one. That Austrian, Alfred Adler, knew his stuff.”

  Right after I poured my second glass of wine and before we ordered our food, a wedding party walked through to their private room. I glanced around the table and raised my glass. “Tonight we wedding crash.”

  It was a challenge. I pushed my chair back and joined the crowd. The others followed like ducklings. I knew what my role was for the night—talk up my baby girl and entertain the masses with my wit and charm. Oh, and drink some champagne. Done and Done.

  I grabbed a glass from the waiter’s tray as he walked past and threw it back.

  “Let’s do this.” I twirled myself into the party.

  Reese

  “Rise and shine, sunshine.” Ben barged into my room at 6:27 with donuts and coffee the morning after our birthday.

  “What the—”

  “Good morning to you too, Bobbsey. I thought we should have some chats.”

  “Uh, no thanks.”

  “I have coffee. And donuts, the good kind.”

  I scratched my head before reaching toward Ben’s offering. Once I had the donut and coffee grasped close, he pushed further.

  “So, Blake.”

  I sipped my coffee. “Yes, Irish as promised.”

  “Reese, he flew halfway around the world to surprise you on my birthday. That’s a big deal.”

  “Ugh, I knew you’d make this into something it isn’t. It’s decidedly not a big deal. He’s headed to Chicago. By plane it’s a short forty-five minute detour from his original destination. NBD.”

  “Okay, crazy person, I’m going to let you have that as you’re clearly not in the mindset to be rational. But really, there’s something there?”

  “Something teeny, tiny. The teeniest of tiniest—”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “You said you made out with him?” He waited as I polished off my second donut.

  “Benji, stop staring at me. It’s disconcerting. Besides, I said no such thing.”

  “I’m waiting for the rest.”

  “What rest? That’s all I have to say.” Those donuts were good. I grabbed a third.

  “Are you a Gilmore girl this morning? I bought the box for everyone to share. Actually, they’re not for you at all—you don’t believe in sugar.”

  “Unfortunately sugar believes in me.” I took a loud sip of my coffee.

  “Stop being so taciturn, sister dearest. I know you need to spill, so spill. Expound. Pontificate. Let your soul go to the wind, and I’ll be here to help you gather the pieces. Blake?”

  “Fine, it’s probably the sugar and lack of sleep talking, but here’s the scoop.” I paused.

  “Reese!” Ben pulled the donut box out of reach.

  “Fine, fine. This is it—I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “I mean, yes, I find him attractive. Clearly, he’s a young Al Gore meets George Clooney meets Robert Downey Jr. with all the sua
ve of Robert Redford from the sixties. And yes, we kissed. One time, right before I flew back here. But we were both slightly tipsy, maybe more than slightly, and we hadn’t seen each other in three years. There were a lot of endorphins floating about.”

  “You mean oxytocin? And I’m not seeing the problem. Unless you think Mr. George Downey Redford will no longer find you attractive post your affair with these donuts?”

  “Shut up. That’s the problem.”

  “You eating too many donuts? I can see that.”

  “No, you dork, knowing if he’s actually attracted to me. He hasn’t said anything. For years we’ve only been friends. He broke up with his last girlfriend only a few months ago, actually. And she was basically Heidi Klum’s hotter twin. So there’s that. He doesn’t even like brunettes.”

  “Oh wow. So we’re reading a lot into one relationship. And in the twenty-four hours I’ve spent with the guy, he doesn’t seem shallow. Plus, he laughs at all your jokes which is both disconcerting and adorable. He thinks you’re funny.”

  “Funny doesn’t put me in the life partner category—it almost exclusively guarantees me a seat in the friend zone for the next four decades.”

  “That’s not true—Tina Fey happily wed and even had kids.”

  “Right, and I am as funny as she is, so maybe there’s hope.”

  “Well, that’s true. I’m just saying, he’s cute. I think we should at least keep him on the options list. You’re twenty-six now, tick tock.” He ignored my glare and grabbed my coffee for a sip.

  “And what about Charlie?” It made me sad to think about.

  “What about him?”

  “Ben. You know. I don’t believe in destiny or sometimes even in love, but there’s always been this thing between the two of us. This unspoken—”