Never Ever Tell

by Kirsty Ferguson

  Someone knocked on the door. ‘Go away!’ she yelled, not even bothering to turn the music down. The door opened. Billy.

  ‘Ness, people are starting to leave now – you have to come and thank them for coming. Could you please turn off the music and come out and say goodbye? Even if you don’t feel up to it, it’s the right thing to do.’

  ‘The right thing to do? You do know that I buried my son today? The right thing be damned. Tell them to go fuck themselves for all I care.’ She closed her eyes. waiting for him to leave, but she felt him standing there. ‘What?’ she snapped, opening her eyes.

  ‘Do the right thing and go and say goodbye to the mourners that came to pay their respects to our son.’ He didn’t yell exactly, but it was clear there was no way he was leaving this room until she came with him and did as she was told. Shooting him a filthy look, she turned off the music, her ears stinging in the sudden silence.

  Billy forcefully had her by the wrist and basically dragged her to the spot he wanted her to stand. She shook limp hands and listened to their drivel.

  ‘He’s in a better place.’

  No, he’s not.

  ‘He wouldn’t have felt a thing.’

  How the fuck would you know?

  ‘God has called him home.’

  Fuck you and your uncaring God!

  Billy was shaking hands firmly with the men, kissing the women on their cheeks. Even Ty was doing a better job at saying goodbye to the mourners than she was. Mourners, that was a funny word. It didn’t even begin to describe the grief she was feeling. Eventually they were all gone, and it was just the family left. Maggie offered to make tea, probably just to keep her hands busy. Vanessa leaned against the wall and Billy, her dad and Ty sat down at the table. Mark had left early on, obviously feeling out of place. Vanessa had barely eaten or drank in days, but when Maggie suggested food, she almost threw up. She shook her head no.

  ‘You have to eat, Ness.’ She put her hand on Vanessa’s shoulder. She shrugged it off. She didn’t need her sympathy. She needed them all to piss off and leave her alone to go back to Wren’s room and fall asleep on his bed.

  Her dad was making room in the fridge for some of the cooked meals that people had brought with them. Why do people bring food? Was it because they thought the bereaved had forgotten how to cook? Or do they think that their grief is so palpable that they just can’t stand to cook, clean, or do anything but be numb? Well, she was numb, all right, but clarity would come soon. Super laser-focused clarity. She would want – no, demand – answers, but for now all she could think about were those wrong flowers rotting atop her son’s coffin. She gave a little sob and everyone turned to look at her. She wanted to tell them she was fine so they’d stop looking at her, but it was a lie and they knew it. She was not fine.

  Her dad went home around eight, Maggie was staying to help with Ty and took the spare room, and Billy put Vanessa to bed, removing her dress and wiping the makeup from her face. She lay awake beside him as he drifted off, snoring lightly beside her. She was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. She knew what she had to do.

  She had to find out everything there was to know about Wren’s final two weeks.

  24

  Vanessa hadn’t slept properly that night or any night since losing Wren. Things had continued to move along around her. The funeral, the wake; Ty went back to school and Billy went back to work just days later. Life went on for other people, but it had stopped for her. All she really cared about was discovering the secret that Wren was hiding. The secret to why he had been so down in his final weeks. In the dark recesses of her mind, she realized that she should be more concerned with how little Ty was coping with losing his brother. She did care, she just couldn’t express it properly. Her grief was stronger than her concern and she knew that between Billy and Maggie, who had come to stay, leaving Charlotte with Vanessa’s dad, would take care of Ty.

  After Billy had gone to work, Vanessa got up and headed down to the kitchen to see Ty before he went to school. Maggie was making breakfast. She was making pancakes, which were Wren’s favorite breakfast food, not Ty’s. Vanessa froze.

  Maggie saw the look of shock on Vanessa’s face and realized what she had done. ‘Oh God, Ness! I’m so sorry, I just wanted to do something nice for Ty.’ She covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to cry. Vanessa did the same. Ty looked from one to the other, obviously confused with what was going on.

  ‘Mommy?’

  She looked with great difficulty at the boy who looked so much like the boy she’d lost. She turned to face him. She was silent for a long moment before finally saying, ‘Yes, Ty?’

  ‘I miss Wren.’ His little face was flushed with emotion.

  Vanessa’s heart stilled. She felt like all the breath had left her body and she could barely stay upright.

  ‘Why don’t we go and get ready for school, Ty?’ suggested Maggie, but Vanessa spoke.

  ‘I miss him too, Ty. I really do.’

  Ty got up from the table and came to his mother.

  ‘He’s OK, Mom, I know he is.’ Vanessa didn’t even try to stop her tears. They fell from beneath her closed lids even as she drew Ty into her arms. She saw Maggie turn around, giving them privacy, her own eyes welling up.

  ‘C’mon, Ty. Go get dressed, sweetheart.’ Ty went down the hallway to his bedroom and Vanessa picked up her bag.

  ‘Are you going somewhere?’ Maggie asked in surprise. Vanessa hadn’t left the house since the funeral.

  ‘Yeah. I need to do… something.’ She didn’t elaborate, even though she knew Maggie wanted to ask.

  This time she didn’t wear black, nor did she put on makeup. She arrived at the graveside service of Olivia Holmes, one of only ten people who were there. She went straight up to Ryan, who was talking to the minister. He saw her coming and excused himself. She held out her arms and he all but fell into them, gripping her tightly, his head bent, mouth so close to her neck that she felt his warm breath on her skin. She rubbed his back.

  ‘How are you holding up?’ she asked. She knew that it was an empty question, but she also knew it had to be asked, just in case he wanted to answer it.

  He looked at her, his face pale under his tan, his good looks hidden behind a mask of pain. The minister started the service and Vanessa found herself holding Ryan’s hand with no recollection of how it got there. Still, she didn’t let go, knowing the excruciating agony this day brought with it. The service was short; Olivia Holmes, aged seventeen, was buried without any fanfare. She had roses too, and Vanessa had to ask if she liked them.

  ‘Yes, she did. She got her love of gardening and roses from her mother, who died many years ago – Olivia never got over her passing.’ He smiled sadly. ‘I guess I didn’t either and now I’ve lost them both.’ His voice rose higher as he tried to hide the tears in his voice and in his eyes.

  ‘How ’bout I drive you back to your house? You can pick up your car tomorrow.’ She didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be driving himself around. She knew that after Wren’s funeral she could barely walk in a straight line, let alone drive. She didn’t want Ryan to hurt himself. He nodded.

  No one followed them back to his house. ‘Are you not having anyone come over?’

  ‘Who would attend but you? I really appreciate you coming today. It has made an unbearable day slightly more bearable. Olivia would have liked that you came too. She always said you were a lovely person and a great mom.’

  Vanessa smiled sadly as Ryan opened the front door.

  ‘I know it’s kinda early,’ he said, looking at the clock that showed eleven thirty, ‘but I need a glass of red. Would you like one?’

  She really should go home, but she knew she couldn’t leave him alone; he’d just buried his only child for fuck’s sake. ‘Sure, just a small one, though.’

  She watched as he poured a generous glass for them both. Lucky for her that Maggie was looking after Ty. She would pick him up from school and she could stay here with Ryan f
or a bit longer. The wine hit her fast as she still wasn’t eating.

  She stood up, wobbling slightly, and went around the lounge room, looking at the framed photos. There was one of Olivia and her mom. ‘She was gorgeous, your wife. Olivia looks just like her.’

  ‘Yes, she was beautiful and yes, Olivia does – did – take after her mother. You’re beautiful too.’ he said boldly. She pretended not to hear the compliment. Grieving people often said things that they didn’t mean and it meant nothing; the ramblings of a drunk man, high on grief. Vanessa picked up a photo of Wren and Olivia. His arms slung around her, laughing into the camera. She didn’t expect to see it, so she was caught off guard, sucking in a breath before beginning to cry.

  Ryan was at her side in an instant. ‘I’m so sorry, Vanessa. I should have put that one away just in case you came over.’

  ‘I just wasn’t expecting to see it is all. He looks so happy.’ She was aware that Ryan was standing very close to her. She thought of Billy. Her wonderful, savior, kind-hearted, not-a-mean-bone-in-his-body Billy, and she moved away. Grief made people do silly things, but she would not do that.

  ‘I should go. My son Ty will be home soon. I’m trying… it’s not going so well yet. He looks so much like Wren.’

  ‘Can you come back tomorrow?’ Ryan almost begged.

  Vanessa wondered if it was the best idea, but the man had no one else. He hadn’t any friends to lean on, and they were thrown together by circumstance. She owed it to Wren to help Olivia’s father.

  ‘Sure, I’ll come back.’

  He hugged her goodbye. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  As she got into the car, she realized that except for seeing Wren’s photo and that little hiccup, that she hadn’t cried for three hours. It was a huge step forward for her.

  But it didn’t last long. She pulled her car into the driveway and walked up to the front door.

  ‘Mom!’ yelled Ty. She felt deflated as soon as she walked into the house. She used one arm to hug him, then gently pushed him away. She saw Maggie’s disapproving look and just knew that she was going to tell Billy all about it. She figured Billy must have asked Maggie to keep an eye on her and report back. She seemed to watch her a lot, especially when she thought Vanessa wasn’t looking. In one way it was sweet, in another it pissed her off. She was a grown woman and she’d do what she pleased when she pleased. She was grateful as hell to Maggie, but she was still grieving for Wren and wanted to find out why Wren had been so depressed, even before Olivia had committed suicide. She would have to ask Ryan if he knew anything, but now was not the time.

  The next day Vanessa left the house while Maggie was dropping Ty off at school. It was a sneaky way to do it, but she didn’t want to answer the inevitable questions until she was home and it was too late to stop her. She wanted to talk to Ryan about something delicate. Did he know what had happened, if anything, between Olivia and Wren? Olivia hadn’t been around to their house for over a week or so before she’d died. Wren had stopped talking about her, so she figured that maybe they had had a fight. He hadn’t confided in her, which had been very unusual considering how close they were, but maybe Olivia had confided in her dad. Maybe Ryan could help shed some light on part of the puzzle. She still needed to talk to Justin and Wade, but she knew they were both still in hospital and they weren’t going anywhere in a hurry.

  She knocked on the door and he answered quickly, like he’d been waiting for her arrival. He looked as rough around the edges as she felt. He wore casual pants and a T-shirt with buttons halfway down the front in a deep mulberry color. Vanessa was pale from lack of sunlight and had bruise-like smudges under her eyes from lack of sleep. She wore jeans with her black knee-high boots and a casual black T-shirt, given that it was over eighty-five degrees outside. Her long hair was out and wild, flying around her face in the breeze. He quickly stepped back so she could come in as she grabbed at her hair and smoothed it down. There were a few strands across her face and before she could fix them, he had reached out and tucked them behind her ear.

  Dangerous territory.

  He then pulled her into a hug. ‘Ryan—’

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and was surprised to see a text from Mark. She must have made a noise in the back of her throat because Ryan said, ‘Problem?’

  ‘Just a text from my ex-husband.’

  Just wanted to make sure you’re OK. Call if you want to talk.

  It still shocked her that they had spent time in the same room after the service without incident. Who would have thought that they could have done that, what with their history? She didn’t answer the text. He would have seen that she’d read it, but that wasn’t her concern. Right now, she needed to ask Ryan for information. He went to the kitchen to make them both a cup of coffee. She hovered awkwardly in the living room until he returned five minutes later. He set both coffees down on the table. She saw him put a healthy dose of bourbon into his cup. She wasn’t going to say anything; whatever helped ease the hole in his heart where his child should be. She got the impression that this was not the first nip he’d had this morning. Again, no judgment.

  ‘Come, sit,’ he said, heading to the low, comfortable-looking couch. Again, he sat closer than normal; she figured he was craving human companionship since he’d lost his daughter. She understood that.

  Vanessa took a sip of the scalding liquid, which burned like molten lava the whole way down. She began to cough, her throat on fire. Ryan went and grabbed her a glass of water, which put out the fire inside her. He patted her on the back while she coughed.

  ‘Shit, that was hot!’ She swore before even thinking about it. Ryan smiled softly at her, it felt like he had attached himself a little to her and that was fine, she’d probably imprinted a bit on him too. She understood – his daughter and her son were lovers after all; they shared their hurt in not knowing what the hell had happened. She knew Wren died in a car accident – her mind mentally stumbled over the word died – but what about beforehand?

  ‘Ryan, did the kids have a fight at all? I mean, before Olivia… passed away?’

  ‘She never actually came out and said if they did or not. I’ve been trying to recall and analyze every conversation with her, and I would have remembered that one. I do remember Wren saying she asked for a break. But if I’m honest, Olivia pretty much raised herself at this point. She was nearly eighteen – I didn’t know much about her life anymore. Didn’t you find that with Wren?’

  ‘Wren and I – we shared an incredibly close bond. Something was bothering him before his death, before Olivia’s death, but he wouldn’t talk about it with me.’

  Dammit, still no answers.

  ‘I can’t believe all this,’ Ryan said quietly. ‘How are they both gone within weeks of each other?’ His voice was thick with emotion and she felt for him, she really did. She wanted to help him. He had no one. He was truly alone in the world.

  She liked Ryan, and not just because they had bonded over their children, but because he was a good person.

  She sighed, swallowing one final mouthful and standing up. ‘I have to get home, I just wanted… to… check on you, I guess.’

  He looked at her with longing in his eyes, but she glanced away.

  ‘One thing,’ Ryan said, rising to stand with her. ‘Olivia kept diaries – she has since she lost her mom. I’ve been wondering if there’s anything in there that would shed light on why she did what she did.’

  Suddenly, Vanessa could think of nothing else. She had to read those diaries.

  ‘If you’re finding it too hard, I’d be happy to read them for you, see if I can’t find a clue in there. Maybe she wrote about her plans or reasons, or something, anything.’

  ‘You’d do that for me?’

  She nodded. He stared at her a moment longer, then fetched a bag and pulled a pile of books from the lounge-room bookshelves. They had proper spines and were made to look like real books. He handed over the bag and she took it with a small smile.
‘I’ll read through them and let you know if I find anything.’ She held the bag against her chest reverently, aware that these were the last words of his daughter. ‘I may find what happened with her and Wren. It’s been… consuming me, I guess you could say.’

  ‘Thanks, Vanessa.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll call you in a couple of days to check on you, OK?’ She was desperate to get home and start reading, now that she had a tangible place to start. Ryan had been the only other person besides her dad she’d really spoken about Wren’s death with. She was probably the only one he’d spoken too. He must have felt so isolated, and she needed to remember that.

  ‘Bye, Ryan.’ She waited to see what he was going to do, but he left his hands down by his sides, the smell of coffee and bourbon the only thing between them now.

  When Vanessa arrived home, Maggie’s car wasn’t there; she must have either got caught up at the school or gone to do some grocery shopping. Either way, Vanessa was glad to be alone. She sat down on her bed and sorted through the diaries, finding the first one, then putting the rest back in the bag.

  She read the looping, girly handwriting for over an hour. Reading about the bullying that Olivia was subjected to was brutal; it brought back memories of her own experiences. Vanessa had to stop a few times to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath. Olivia was a beautiful writer, capturing her torture with a mixture of objectiveness and sadness. She might have gone on to be a professional writer one day, so detailed and evocative were her entries.

  She felt tears welling up again when she read about the fight Olivia had had with Marcie. Olivia thought that the torture would stop once she and Johnathon broke up, but it was just another thing to bully her about.