Not You Again (The NOT Series Book 1)

by Terri Osburn

  “I can do that,” her husband said, “but not before I get a hug from this one.” The older man who’d welcomed me into his family the moment his son introduced fifteen-year-old me as the girl of his dreams wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed tightly before pulling back. “It’s been far too long, my girl. We missed you.”

  Struggling to hold it together, I said, “I missed you, too.”

  Mac then dropped a kiss on Maggie’s cheek before disappearing into the kitchen with the dog in tow. We stood in silence, two women who had lost the same person, hovering several feet apart but forever linked together.

  “I’m glad you called,” she said and motioned for me to follow her. “I made that tea you always liked and some soda bread cookies. You like those, too, don’t you?”

  The scent of the cookies hit me the moment we entered the kitchen. “I do. I haven’t had them in forever.” Or since Brian’s wake, but there was no need to be that specific.

  “Have a seat at the table and I’ll bring everything over.”

  I pulled out a heavy oak chair and lowered onto the bright-green seat cushion before sliding a hand along the polished surface of the table. How many nights had we played games here, with Brian and his younger sister Jenny bickering over who had cheated first? Then there’d been the countless holiday meals when the adults had gathered in the dining room and us teens, which included four of their cousins, had opted to sit together in here.

  They’d still called it the kiddie table, and none of us cared so long as we didn’t have to listen to boring conversations about politics or how the world was going to hell in a hand basket. When Jenny—the youngest of the group—entered her twenties, we finally renamed it the big kids’ table.

  “Here we go.” Maggie set a tray on the table that included two mugs and a plate of cookies. She set a white mug covered in four-leaf clovers in front of me. “I put in a splash of milk like always.”

  The like always hit me hard. I could pretend that not a day had passed since we last sat together like this. Since I’d drank her tea and eaten her cookies and chatted with her around this table. We could talk about the weather and the summer ahead and what she was going to plant in her garden this year, but that wasn’t why I was here.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate you making time like this.”

  “Honey, there’s no making time,” she said, placing her hand over mine. “We’re always here for you. How have you been?”

  Filling my lungs, I said, “Not great, actually.” It felt good not to say I was fine. “I know I should be better by now, but all that time heals stuff isn’t proving to be true for me.”

  “I understand that more than you know.”

  That she suffered too would always break my heart, but that she understood how I felt meant everything. Maggie was the only person, other than Roberta, who didn’t offer platitudes or tell me that everything was going to be okay.

  “Two years is a long time,” I said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me.”

  “Oh, Becca, why would you even wonder? You were like a daughter to us.”

  I was, but they lost their son because of me.

  “That day…” I started. The tears began and I had to clear my throat to continue. “I was supposed to pick up his tux. If I’d gone like I was supposed to, Brian wouldn’t have been in the mall. He wouldn’t be—”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “Do you think this would be better if it had been you instead of Brian?” Maggie left her seat to kneel in front of me. “Becca, the only person to blame for my son’s death is that lunatic with a gun. Losing you would have ripped Brian apart. You’re stronger than he ever was. We have never blamed you for that day, and we never will. My God, honey, is that why you stayed away?”

  “It should have been me. We had so much to do that day, and if I’d stuck to my schedule, then I’d have picked up the tux and Brian wouldn’t have been anywhere near there.” I bent over to press my head against my knees. “He would still be here with you.”

  Maggie pulled me to the floor where I sobbed into her shoulder. I hadn’t even realized how much I needed her forgiveness until that moment. I would have given anything to change the past. To have been the one in the line of fire. Maybe I’d have gotten there earlier and missed the whole thing. Maybe I’d have been victim number one. Either way, Brian wouldn’t have had to die.

  “Listen to me,” she said, pushing me away to cup my face in her hands. “We will never know why that man went into that mall to kill people. We will never know why Brian had to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I know with all of my heart that he loved you more than life itself, and if he had known that going there would save you, he’d have done it. He’d have walked in there without a second thought.”

  “But he didn’t know,” I whispered.

  “Neither did you, baby. How could you? No one knew. But I have never once blamed you.” Maggie brushed the tears from my cheeks. “You made my boy happy. You gave him joy while he was here. That means everything to me. I can never thank you enough for loving him like you did.”

  Breathing through the hiccups, I said, “I miss him so much.”

  “Me, too. But I missed you as well. Please don’t stay away anymore.”

  I nodded as I dried my eyes. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

  She pressed her lips to my forehead. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad to have you here. Now, how about we go out back so I can show you the garden and you can meet Penelope where she’s less likely to jump and break something. She’s going to love you.”

  “I would like that.”

  We got off the floor together and after going through several tissues to dry my eyes and blow my nose, we took our tea and cookies outside where I met the sweetest dog who gave the most enthusiastic kisses I’d ever received. There was no magic pill that would fix my broken heart, and the guilt I felt didn’t magically disappear. But Roberta had been right. Healing required dealing with the hard stuff.

  Today was really hard. And cathartic. And to my surprise, an enormous relief.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Another week passed and I was starting to get a grip on handling all of the active events we had going. Not having to deal with new clients turned out to be a blessing, though it still concerned me. We would eventually run out of business or have to take on jobs with very short notice in order to keep money coming in. Neither outcome was appealing, but I had to believe Amanda knew what she was doing. She was a shrewd businesswoman and I couldn’t imagine her making a decision without considering every possible angle.

  She’d surprised Marquette and I by showing up Wednesday morning unannounced. Wearing jeans and a Guns & Roses T-shirt—a look I had never seen her in before—she stayed long enough to get an update on how things were going, and then she left again. I couldn’t tell if she’d lost weight or the jeans were just way too big for her normal size, but her face was definitely paler, and the dark circles beneath her eyes were new.

  “Do you think she’s all right?” Marquette had asked.

  I truly didn’t have an answer. Frail was not a word I associated with my boss, but if a six-foot-tall woman could appear fragile, that’s how I’d describe her.

  “Cancer treatment isn’t easy for anyone, but I’m sure she’ll bounce back.” I had no less than three aunts who had gone through breast cancer and come out the other side to live long, healthy lives. Surely Amanda would do the same. “Let’s just keep this place going so she can focus on herself.”

  Between Friday evening and Saturday night, I had three events back-to-back so I was relieved to be on my couch with a book in my hands and a feline curled up against my side on Sunday morning. The reprieve didn’t last long before someone knocked on my door. No one had called to say they were coming over, so I had to assume it was Mrs. Zhang looking for her cat again. Ling Ling liked to roam the building and often stopped by for a treat and a visit with Milo.

  To my
surprise, I found Lindsey on the other side of the door. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I’m taking you out,” she said, strolling past me. “Get some clothes on.”

  I didn’t want to go out. I didn’t want to see people. I just wanted to sit in my quiet apartment. Alone.

  “Linds, I don’t feel like—”

  “This is an order, not a request.” She crossed to the couch, snagged a magazine off the coffee table, and sat back. “I’ll wait while you change.”

  My best friend had always been bossy, but I wasn’t in the mood to humor her today. “I don’t want to go to lunch.”

  “I don’t remember asking what you want.” Her eyes remained on the magazine. “You can change or you can go like that. The choice is yours.”

  Considering my options, I remained near the door, longing to shove her out and slam it behind her. But I knew that would be pointless. I also knew she’d drag me out of here in my panda pajamas without a second thought.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I need to know what to wear.”

  Her eyes finally shifted my way, her expression one I knew all too well. She was annoyed. Well, so was I.

  “I’m not taking you to the symphony, Becca. Just throw on some jeans and a T-shirt already.”

  My newfound ability to say no went only so far. I could get her to leave, but I might say something I’d regret in the process. Did I want her out of my house? Yes. Did I want her out of my life? No.

  “Fine. Give me five minutes.”

  “You get two.”

  What the hell? “I haven’t even brushed my hair yet today.”

  Closing the magazine, she tossed it back on the coffee table. “No one is going to see you where we’re going.” That sounded like something a killer would say after pulling you inside a rusty old van. “The clock is ticking,” she added with a sinister smile.

  Yeah, that wasn’t creepy at all. Without another word, I charged into my room, changed like a firefighter who just got the call, and in an act of defiance, took an extra thirty seconds to run a brush through my hair. I needed a shower and made a note to clean up my eyebrows before bed, but otherwise felt presentable enough for whatever deserted location she had in mind.

  Ten minutes later, Lindsey took the Carnegie exit off the Parkway and I assumed we were going to clean out her classroom. There was still technically a week of school left, but that was for exams so no actual teaching took place. We did this every year, but we’d never done it on a Sunday before.

  When she veered right instead of left after the underpass, I knew my assumption was wrong.

  “Where are we going?” She’d said there would be no one around so that ruled out lunch at one of our regular spots. Neither of us had spoken up to that point, and Lindsey remained silent. “Stop being so cryptic and tell me where we’re going.”

  “We’re going to visit someone.”

  “You said no one would see me. Did you lie just to get me in this car?”

  Lindsey shook her head as she took a left at the light. “I didn’t lie. Chill out. We’re almost there.”

  Once we drove over the creek and onto Carothers, I knew where she was taking me. And I was furious.

  “You cannot be serious.”

  She once again remained silent.

  “Don’t do this, Linds. I won’t get out of the car.”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “Take me back home.”

  “Nope.”

  “Then drop me at my parents’ house. Drop me on a freaking corner, for all I care. Just let me out of this car.” As we made the right onto Magazine Street, I started to beg. “Lindsey, I can’t do this today. Please, don’t make me do this.”

  Ignoring my pleas, she made the left past the church and I stared at my hands to keep from seeing the rows of stones spread out like soldiers ready for inspection. I hated it here. And I hated her in that moment. The car rolled on, down the narrow lane that led to the newer section of the cemetery. When she pulled off and cut the engine, I closed my eyes and gripped the seat belt as the lifeline that would keep me in this seat.

  She couldn’t make me get out. Not unless she planned to drag me kicking and screaming. Lindsey undid her own seat belt and left the car. Seconds later, my door opened and I quickly closed it again, then locked it.

  “Really?” I heard her say through the window a moment before the lock clicked and she opened the door again. “It’s called remote keyless entry, Becca. Are you really going to stay in there like a petulant child?”

  “I told you I wasn’t getting out.”

  “Why not? Isn’t this where you want to be?”

  How could she be so cruel? “You know damn well I didn’t want to come here.”

  “But you might as well, since you’ve decided that your life is over. We might as well dig a hole right now, right next to Brian, and then you can be happy.”

  Furious, I turned to get out and strangled myself with the seat belt. More annoyed than embarrassed, I extricated myself from the vehicle and pushed her backwards. “I told Josie and I’ll tell you. I’m not going to kill myself.”

  “Of course not,” she said, unfazed. “That would be too easy. You’d rather punish yourself for the next fifty years.”

  Pacing away, I shoved my hands through my hair and when I looked up, I realized I’d walked straight toward his grave. Without turning around, I said, “It’s my fault he’s here.”

  “Then it’s mine, too. After all, you couldn’t pick up his tux that day because my car broke down on the way. Remember that part?” Lindsey came up behind me and spun me around. “Should I be punished, too, then? Should I dig a hole for myself right beside yours?”

  “Stop it,” I said. “I had options. I could have left you waiting for the tow truck and gotten a ride. I could have called my mom or his mom or Josie or Megan or Donna and had that tux picked up. It was my job. It was on my list of things to do.”

  “And you had no fucking idea that a madman would walk into that mall hours later and start shooting people. You left out another option. The one where you could ask Brian to pick up his own goddamn tux, which he should have done in the first place, and that’s the one you chose.” Throwing her hands up, she grunted in frustration. “Becca, you didn’t send him to his death. You sent him to the mall. Stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over.”

  She made it sound so easy. “You don’t understand what I’m going through.”

  “I don’t understand?” she screamed. “Becca, he was one of my best friends. We were the three musketeers, remember? We spent nearly half of our lives together, and I may not have been the woman he was going to marry, but I loved him like a brother. I watched you go through hell for months, and it killed me that I couldn’t take that pain away. So don’t tell me what I do and don’t understand.”

  I’d been so busy drowning in my own misery, I hadn’t bothered to consider how she felt. One of Roberta’s favorite sayings came back to me, and for the first time I understood what she meant.

  “Grieving is a selfish endeavor,” I said, quoting the words aloud. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for you, Lindsey. I’m sorry that I didn’t see how hard it was for you. But I don’t know how to let this go. Why do I get to go on with my life when he didn’t? Am I supposed to find someone else and be happy and pretend he never existed?”

  Using her sleeve, she dried my cheeks. “Becca, moving forward doesn’t mean leaving him behind. Brian was the most alive person I ever met. He attacked life like every moment deserved to be celebrated, and never took a day for granted. You know he’d want us to do the same. And he’d want you to be happy. That’s how we keep him alive, hon. That’s how we not only remember him, but we honor who he was.”

  I turned to look at his tombstone. “He would be pissed to see the way I’ve been acting,” I said with a chuckle. “There are days when I’d swear he’s with me, Linds. Now I
realize he’s probably been shouting at me. Giving me pep talks and pushing me to keep going. To not give up.”

  “I can totally hear him doing that.” Putting her arm around my shoulders, she pressed her head to mine. “No one is asking you to forget him. We just want you to remember that you’re still here.”

  Squeezing her hand on my shoulder, I said, “I’ll work on it.”

  June rolled in like the freight train I knew it would be. Between the graduation parties and a slew of weddings, my weekends were booked solid. Amanda had been out for nearly a month, but had let us know that she’d be returning to the office two days a week, which meant Marquette had to go back to playing receptionist. I’d only survived the last few weeks because we’d made the executive decision to ignore Amanda’s mandate.

  Normally, Marquette would answer the phones and take messages, which I would then return to answer the client’s questions. This seemed completely pointless when he had as much access to the files as I did, and half the time knew the answer without having to look it up. He handled the setup crew scheduling. He made sure vendors knew where to be and when to be there. When it came to logistics, I might as well have been the middleman, so skipping me entirely made sense.

  So long as we didn’t give any of Amanda’s clients a reason to complain, she would never be the wiser, and I could keep my sanity. Since she’d announced Monday and Wednesday as her days in the office, we weren’t left guessing on when she might make a surprise appearance again. The only problem was that this week, I needed Thursday afternoon off, and needed her to cover a meeting I couldn’t change.

  How that would go over I didn’t know, but I’d agreed to help Lindsey clean out her classroom and to attempt to talk to Jacob while I was there. That meant putting on my big girl panties and making the request.

  “Can I talk to you a second?” I asked, approaching her as she dove into her mid-morning Hershey bar. This was a new habit and I would not begrudge a cancer patient her daily dose of chocolate.