by Amber Kelly
I hear Elle scream for Walker as I dive for his back. The impact of me hurling myself full speed takes him by surprise, and before he can recover, I knee him in his little-boy balls. He drops the keys in his hand as he rolls to his side and howls in pain. I stand and snatch the keys. Then, I look down at him.
“Find yourself a new sugar momma because your free ride is over,” I spit at him.
“Give me back my keys, or I’ll have your ass arrested for theft and assault, you cunt,” he yells.
I laugh in his face. “These keys are to an apartment that belongs to Sonia’s mother and a car that is in Sonia’s name. You don’t have anything worth stealing, and if you want to further curse your manhood, call and report me for tackling you. I’ll gladly post the bail for that.”
Rage fills his eyes, and he reaches out and grabs my ankle as I move to walk back to the party.
I lose my balance and fall forward face-first into the gravel. He is on my back in an instant, and he wrenches my arm behind me to try and pry the key ring from me. He bends my fingers so far back that I feel my ring finger snap, and pain shoots up my arm, but I hold on to that key ring with everything I have.
“What the fuck!” Walker’s voice booms across the parking lot, but Ricky is too stupid or crazy to heed the warning.
He sinks his teeth into my wrist, and I try to throw my elbow back and reach him, but before I can make contact, he is lifted and flying through the air.
“Have you lost your damn mind, son?” Walker asks as he stalks toward Ricky, who shuffles backward, trying to get to his feet.
“Don’t kill him, baby. Just break his legs or something. I don’t want you having to wear prison orange in our wedding photos,” Elle shouts.
Ricky’s eyes fly to Walker as he makes it to him. He grabs Ricky by the collar of his shirt and raises him off the ground with one hand.
“Don’t you ever lay a hand on a woman again. Especially one of my women.” He leans in and gets within an inch of Ricky’s face. “None of them. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
Ricky doesn’t answer.
Walker twists his fist harder in his shirt, and Ricky starts to turn reddish blue.
“I said, do you understand what I’m saying?”
Ricky brings his hands to his throat and pulls on Walker’s grip as he nods.
“Good.”
He drops him to the ground and turns back to us, leaving him sputtering in the dirt. Walker walks back to me and Elle. He takes the keys from my hand and shoves them into his pocket, and then he inspects my hand.
“Can you bend your fingers?”
I shake my head but don’t complain. I won’t give that asshole the satisfaction.
“I have electrical tape in my truck. We can tape those fingers together for now,” he says as he lightly touches the teeth marks on my wrist.
Elle can tell he is about to turn back for Ricky, so she wraps an arm around his waist.
He looks over at her and smiles a tight smile as he wraps an arm around each of us, hooking our necks.
“Come on now, ladies. There’s a cake that needs to be cut and eaten. Y’all are always starting some shit when I’m hungry,” he complains as he leads us back into the party.
Bellamy
I go to the restroom and clean myself up as Elle consoles Sonia. Once we have ourselves pulled together, we rally for Doreen and rejoin the party. Sophie takes a microphone, and then one by one, people come up to take their turns, saying what Doreen means to them. She sobs the entire time as everyone shares funny memories and times she bestowed wisdom. Walker spends about twenty minutes just praising her cooking. When it’s Emmett’s turn, he has Braxton cue up a song on the jukebox.
“This says all I need to. Will you dance with me?” he asks.
She stands to join him as “You’re the One That I Want” from the Grease soundtrack starts to play, and everyone goes nuts.
She turns bright red as he sings to her and spins her around the floor. As the song ends, he gets down on a knee, and she yelps.
“I figure after more than thirty years of courting, it’s time I made an honest woman of you,” he starts but does not get to finish because she begins blubbering incoherently and buries her face in his neck.
He looks out to the crowd and says, “I heard a yes in there somewhere.”
A roar of congratulations rises, and everyone comes at them at once.
The happiness makes Sonia run for the restroom again, and as we walk after her, I feel a hand reach for mine.
I look back to see Brandt standing there.
“I’m heading out. Mr. Lancaster is bringing Mom home. So, just come over and ring the bell whenever you’re ready.”
I give him a chin lift and try to pull my hand from his. He doesn’t release me but rolls my hand over and inspects the bruising that has started to surface.
“What happened?” he asks.
“I got in a fight with Ricky in the parking lot.”
He snaps his eyes to mine. “With Ricky?”
“Yep.”
He lets me go when I tug away again.
“I’ll be by in a bit,” I tell him and hurry after my girls.
I find them in the restroom, and Elle is consoling a sobbing Sonia in her arms.
I wrap my arms around them both, and we just hold each other. Elle and I pour our strength into her.
After she cries it all out, she looks at us in the mirror. “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you guys. You have to think I’m so stupid for loving him.”
Elle disengages, and she grabs her face and turns it to her. “I am always going to be here for you. No matter what. I’ll be the one driving the getaway car when you need a rescue. I’ll be fussing, saying, This don’t make no sense, and screaming, What the hell is wrong with you, and, Have you lost your damn mind? But I’ll still be driving the car. You got me?”
“I got you,” Sonia whispers.
“There is something better out there for you. I promise,” Elle assures her.
Sonia shakes her head.
“You got the fairytale with Walker, but I don’t think a happily ever after is in the cards for me.”
“Of course it is!” I cry. “You’re forgetting the most important part of the happily ever after.”
“What’s that?” Sonia asks, confused.
I throw my arms up, as if it should be obvious, and then explain.
“In order to have a happy ending, you must endure a hellacious middle, silly!”
Sonia starts to giggle through her tears as Elle agrees with me.
“It’s true; you’re just about to get to the good part of your story.”
Sonia finally manages a smile.
“Yeah, maybe. At least I have you guys and that is enough for now.”
And that sums up our friendship. Ride or die.
Walker gets Foster to follow us in Sonia’s car to her apartment. While Elle gets her settled in, Walker and Foster change her locks out with the ones Walker had in his truck, which he purchased for his and Elle’s new home. I walk down the few blocks to Brandt’s office.
I know I only worked with him for a couple of weeks, but I miss it. Not just him, but also the clients and the animals.
What a crazy summer it has been. My heart aches at the thought of leaving. Sonia is going to need Elle and me more than ever, Faith just got here, Beau is growing like a weed and will be a little man soon, and Elle will be planning her wedding. I’m going to miss so much of it all if I leave now. Most of all, I’ll miss Brandt. I’ll miss seeing what the house looks like, painted blue. I’ll miss him taking me home and passing me off to my daddy at night. I’ll miss his kisses and his arms around me.
How did this happen? How did my heart get so attached to him so quickly when I wasn’t paying attention?
I wasn’t this upset about ending things with Derrick after knowing him for years? Maybe Doreen is right; God does have a soul mate for us all, and it’s not about the length
of time you’ve spent together but about you finding your matching piece.
I’m standing outside, trying to figure out how I’m going to say all of this to him when the light comes on and he opens the door.
My heart skips a beat as I pass him to walk inside. I sit on the edge of the desk and wait as he shuts the door behind me.
When he turns to face me, my stomach drops. I know instantly that this isn’t about us talking and figuring out where we stand or how we want to proceed with our relationship.
This is good-bye.
It’s written all over him.
Brandt
“You want to go to my office?” I ask as I turn to face her.
She shakes her head. “Nope. I think we can say everything that needs to be said right here,” she says.
I notice a scratch across her cheek from her nose to ear. I reach out to touch it, and she flinches.
“You really got in a fight with a man in the parking lot tonight?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yep. Don’t worry. I didn’t hurt him too badly,” she says cheekily.
I shake my head. “So reckless,” I mumble.
“What did you say?”
“I said, you’re reckless, Bellamy. Crazy, wild, beautiful, and completely reckless.”
“And that’s what, a bad thing? That I love my friends recklessly and would fight the Devil himself for messing with them?”
I sigh. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, but it’s something that I can’t have in my life.”
Her face goes blank at my declaration.
“At least I know why you ghosted me,” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest. The blue-and-purple bite mark exposed on her wrist.
A pounding ache bubbles in my chest at the sight. I want to find that asshole and turn his entire body those colors.
“It’s not you—” I begin.
She cuts me off, “Do not give me that lame-ass line. Please, at least spare me that humiliation.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you or humiliate you, Bellamy,” I tell her.
“You know what? I’m going to let you off the hook easy, Doc. Turns out, Denver Zoo wants me after all. I’ll start looking for apartments in the city next week. I just wanted to let you know.”
“That’s wonderful, Bellamy. I know that’s what you wanted,” I tell her as that ache grows to a pulsing thrum.
“Yep. My dream come true,” she declares as she avoids my eyes.
I approach her and reach to hug her. I just want to hold her against me one more time before I let her go.
“Don’t,” she demands as she throws her hand up between us.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper.
“Too late.” She walks past me and to the door.
She opens it, but then she stops and turns around. Tears are welling in her eyes.
“I came here tonight to say my piece, dammit, and I’m not going to chicken out now. I get that you have been through some really horrible shit in your life. I hate that you had to endure that. I wish that you had learned a lesson from what you’d lost—that life is precious. The moments you have are all you get, and you should live those to the fullest every single day.
“But you are wasting your second chance. You want to squander it all away, feeling sorry for yourself? Well, be my guest. But let’s be clear about something: it’s a choice.
“I told myself that you had a fragile heart, which had been shattered, and that getting close to you was a bad idea, but it turns out, I’m the one with the fragile heart, and you’re just a coward. If you’re going to let the rest of your life be filled with a whole lot of nothing so you never have the chance of experiencing pain again, then you might as well have died that day too. You’re going to have nothing but an empty life in a big, lonely house. I bet your Annie would agree with me when I say, that’s a waste. Good-bye, Brandt.”
She drops her bomb and goes out the door without another backward glance.
I thought I was going to be the one gutting her.
But I felt every single word she said hit my skin like the sear of a hot branding iron.
Brandt
“That’s the last one, man,” Walker says as he carries the last gallon of paint from the back of the truck. “Where do you want to start? Front or back?”
I stand there, looking up at the house I thought I liked two days ago.
“What are we looking at?” he asks as he follows my line of sight.
“An empty life in a big, lonely house,” I repeat her words.
“What?” He turns to me.
“Thanks for your help, Walker, but you don’t have to stick around. I don’t think I’ll be very good company today.”
“Is this about Bells taking off?” he asks.
“Yes. No. I didn’t know she had left already.”
Damn, that was fast.
“Elle took her to the airport last night,” he informs.
I nod as I continue to look up at the house. I have no idea what I was thinking, buying it. Maybe I wasn’t thinking; I was just hoping.
“She thought this was a dream house,” I tell him.
“A dream house, huh? Well, I don’t know much, but the one thing I do know is a dream house isn’t built with wood, stone or the perfect slab of granite. No, it’s created when every corner, crack and crevice is filled with love and laughter. It’s built by the memories made by the people within it. This here is just a shell. It’s up to you to make it a dream come true.”
“I don’t think I’m capable,” I admit.
“You know, I never intended to do anything with my life but sit in that little shack and drink myself to death. I thought the worst thing that could happen to a man was a broken heart, and I wasn’t about to put mine out there to get trampled on ever again. I was wrong though. The worst thing that can happen to a man is to waste his life in a house, drinking himself to death, having a heart and never using it, just letting all the love he has to give someone wither up. Life is for living. Hard work, good friends, delicious food, cold beer. And a good woman by your side, warming your bed, loving you with all of her body and soul, giving you babies, and giving you shit to keep you on your toes. I know it can be scary—the thought of having it and losing it. Especially for you because you know what that feels like better than anyone. But if you never go for it and you let it walk right out of your door and into some other asshole’s happily ever after, then you’ll lose it anyway,” he says as he clasps my shoulder.
“I don’t want to hold her back,” I tell him.
“Hold her back? Man, we can’t hold these women back. They will plow toward their happiness and grab you by the collar and drag you with them. Now, if we ain’t doing this today, then I’m going to go scoop my happiness up and take her horseback riding,” he says.
“Sounds like fun.”
“She loves to ride, and I love to watch her laugh as she does.”
He releases his hold on me and heads to his truck.
“Hey, Doc,” he calls to me, and I turn.
“My granddaddy used to tell me that there’s a battle raging inside every man. Two wolves. One is called regret and anger. The other is called love and hope. You know which one wins?”
“Which one?” I ask.
“The one you feed.”
I walk upon the scene once again. Annie is pulling on her coat as she leaves the restaurant in a huff and starts to walk out to the parking lot. My attention snaps to the dumpster on the left, and I brace for what is coming next when, all of a sudden, she stops and looks right at me. Then, she veers off in my direction.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
She marches up to me and stops. I see annoyance in her eyes.
“What are you doing, Brandy? Why do you keep coming back to this place over and over again and dragging me with you?” she asks, not hiding her frustration.
I take a few tentative steps forward.
“I just come to see you,” I tell
her.
“But it’s not real,” she whispers.
I look past her, searching for the man in the dirty, dark jacket. Preparing to hurl myself between them.
“You can’t save me, sweetheart. It’s not ever going to end differently. You have to stop torturing yourself.”
“I don’t know how to make it stop. Everything still hurts.”
“Yes, you do. You have to stop punishing yourself. I’m not here anymore. I’ve moved on, and you need to move on too,” she says.
“What if I can’t?” I choke out.
“You can. You’ve already started,” she informs me as she reaches up and cradles my cheek with her hand. “Where is she?”
“Where’s who?” I ask, confused.
“Bellamy, silly,” she answers.
“Bellamy? She’s gone. She took a job in Denver,” I tell her.
“And you just let her go? What are you afraid of?”
I take a deep breath as a pang of regret rises in my throat.
“She’s better off without me,” I answer honestly.
“She’s not me, Brandy. She loves you, and she’ll never be better off without you.”
“I … I-I’m sorry,” I finally say the words I need her to hear. “I’m sorry I wasn’t on time that night. I’m sorry he hurt you and that I wasn’t there to protect you. Sorry that I let work steal our time.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she says.
“I wasn’t there for you. You left because I had disappointed you again.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she says again.
“I promised you I’d be there, and I wasn’t.”
“And it still wasn’t your fault.”
“I wish I had made it before—”
“Why? We both would have been killed,” she interrupts angrily.
I meet her eyes. “Yes, it’s what I deserve.”
“Stop that. Stop it now. Stop wasting all this time and stop pushing happiness away. Can’t you see you’re doing the same thing to her that you did to me?”
That gets my attention.
“What?”
“She needs you to show up for her.”