Us After You

by Claudia Burgoa

  Last night, while he held me, I felt my chest loosen up. I was able to breathe so much better.

  What I would give to be in his arms for a few more hours. When he says everything is going to be okay, I believe him.

  “How are you holding up?” Ethan enters the room. “Sorry I’ve been too busy to check on you.”

  “Me? I’m fine,” I say, disregarding his worries. “Tomorrow morning I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “You can stay for as long as you want. I know Hannah is happy to have you,” he offers.

  Is she? I’m sure she’s too busy taking care of Rocco to think of anyone else.

  “We’re here for you. I know it seems like it’s all about Mae and Rocco, but we’re concerned about you too.”

  “Why?” I shrug.

  “She’s your sister.”

  I smile sadly and say, “I tried to make an effort to come often, to be closer to her. I feel like my time was up too soon.”

  “That’s our problem. We think we have too much time and waste it,” he tells me. “When, in fact, that’s the one thing we should be cherishing. Time with your loved ones, time with what makes you happy, time being who you want to be and not what others want you to be.”

  “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

  “We’re going to try our best,” he offers.

  His words worry me; yet, they also give me some peace. Neither Ethan nor Tucker are under the illusion that this is going to be easy. They’re prepared for anything. But is it enough?

  “It’s not on you,” I add my two cents. “You shouldn’t have to try. He should be able to—”

  “He’s sick, Sage.”

  “Sick?”

  “Have you ever lived with an addict?”

  I shake my head. “Lived with, no. I knew of those who did blow or … you know, but you just oversee it and gossip if they ended up in rehab.”

  Not that I personally gossiped.

  “Seems like your circle only judges and condemns them. Addiction is an illness like diabetes or cancer. You don’t just say he should do it; you understand him and support him. Yes, he can try to fight the urge. The key to staying clean is your support group, not just the will to make it happen. Addicts who have family support tend to succeed better than those who don't.”

  “I … I’m sorry,” I apologize. “The way I spoke earlier … it made me sound cold and unforgiving. I’m not. You see, this is hard for me. Losing my sister, not knowing what’s going to happen to that sweet little girl. If I could, I’d take her with me.”

  He chuckles. “I think we all want to wrap her in a blanket and take her away.”

  “Tucker might tackle us on our way out,” I add. “It’s like they already have this unbreakable bond.”

  “His mom says it’s because he welcomed her into the world, just like he did Winter. He feels protective of them.”

  “Who is Winter?” I ask curiously.

  “Winnie is his youngest sister. He was sixteen when his mom went into labor—at home. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Winter and now for Mae.”

  The more I learn about Tucker, the more I want to know why he can be so cold with the world when he’s warm, loving, and understanding.

  I don’t want to care about him, or the man behind the wall, but I can’t help myself.

  “If it’s all good, I’m going home to give the news to my grandparents,” I announce, not sure how I’m going to accomplish that since they flew me here in a helicopter.

  Maybe I should ask but instead of that I say, “Can you tell us when you have all the dates and times for the funeral? Maybe I can drive them up here.”

  “We can send you the private jet.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want to—”

  “Please, let us help you. You’re part of the family.” He smiles. “Come on, try to become one of us. I promise you, we’re fun.”

  “Will it be too much if I ask you for a ride home?”

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “How about you rest today and leave tomorrow? I’ll have everything set for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  28

  Tucker

  “Fuck, I need some coffee,” I grumble, pushing myself off the couch.

  “Language,” Hannah chides me and looks at me unamused. “Why did you sleep on the couch?”

  I shrug. One minute I was talking with Alex and Ethan and the next I woke up with back pain because her couch is fucking uncomfortable.

  “Where’s Mae?” I ask in response. I don’t have an explanation of why I ended up on her couch and not in one of the guest bedrooms.

  She turns around and marches toward the kitchen. “Alex is with her in the nursery.”

  “Rocco?”

  When we enter the kitchen, Ethan is sitting by the island drinking from a mug. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

  “What happened last night?”

  “That’s new. He can’t remember what he did last night and he’s sober,” Nana says, as she sets a mug in front of me. “I bet it’s the lack of sleep. You’ve been running on fumes for a couple of days. Rocco was in his room the last time I checked.”

  “He has a room?” Ethan’s curiosity matches mine, because when did that happen?

  She pours herself some coffee and takes a sit next to me. “Yes, he refuses to go back to his house. There’s nothing there for him since Sienna isn’t there.”

  “I get it, he’s grieving, but can he at least be mindful of his daughter?” Ethan’s irritation is nothing compared to how I feel about Rocco’s lack of interest toward Mae. “She lost her mother and needs the love of her father.”

  Hannah’s shoulders sag, and she exhales slowly. “We all know he’s a loving guy. Remember when Grady, my baby brother, was born? He fussed around him and even helped me babysit when Mom needed to go to the flower shop and Dad was busy. Where is that guy?”

  “He found drugs, lost his sister, and women played with his heart often…” Zeke enters the kitchen, sets a jug of orange juice on the counter, and says, “And he never took rehab serious. The only woman who has loved him just died. That baby isn’t getting any attention from him until…”

  “We’re fucked,” Ethan concludes.

  “Good morning, Z,” Hannah says with that cheery voice of hers that I forgot I hated when I haven’t slept well. “We have orange juice, but thank you?”

  “It’s fresh,” he clarifies. “There’s this juice place close to my apartment where I go every morning, and since I might crash here tonight, I wanted to have my juice.”

  “His, nobody touches it,” Ethan jokes as Zeke glares at him. “What do you think we should do with Rocco, oh, wise one?”

  “Fuck if I know,” Zeke answers. “I can give you insight into what he might be thinking or what is going through his mind, but I don’t have any solutions. If it was me, I’d be pumping drugs to forget everything.”

  They all look at me, and I shrug. “Look, I’m not his keeper. We can talk to him. Maybe have Sage come often since they both loved Sienna. Mom or Grandpa Chris could find a counselor who can come to visit him. But honestly, my priority is Mae.”

  “Why just Mae?” Zeke crosses his arms.

  Nana looks at me and then at him, answering, “She’s a baby without a mom or a dad. Someone has to advocate for her.”

  “You guys said it. Rocco might be in no condition to take care of her while he’s grieving and getting better. We, as his family, need to take care of her before she ends up with the wrong family or in foster care.”

  I remember, as if it was just yesterday, when I met Grandpa Bradley. His words still play inside my head.

  “Why didn’t you take care of me?” I ask, as he drove.

  “When?” he grunts.

  “When I was born,” I clarify. “Some grandparents take charge of the babies when their children are unable.”

  "I didn't know about Thea until she was in her twenties," he responds in a sad tone. "She was raise
d by her mother and a man who abused them both. I … if I had known, I'd have taken care of her, of you. But we can’t change the past.”

  No, we can't. I remain still, trying to keep my breathing even. I want to say more, to hear more, but he’s silent. I sit, wait, watch. Listen to the roar of the engine.

  “And you know what I love the most about Thea?” He interrupts my thoughts.

  "No." I look out the window, hating him for not being there for his daughter or me. Instead of paying attention to him, I turn on the radio.

  "She didn't question me when I appeared in her life. She opened her heart and let me be her father." He lowers the volume of the radio. "She could've hated me for not being there when they exploited her and abused her. Instead, she loved me."

  We need to open our hearts to Mae and give her all our time now. I don’t want her to end up like my mother, like Z, or like me.

  Not that I should complain much, in a way, I was lucky. Mom and I could’ve ended up like Rocco and his mother.

  I rise from my seat and look first at Ethan and then at Zeke. “You two focus on the legal shit. We’re what she has until he gets better.” Then I look at Nana. “Can you help him? Of the four of us, you’re the only one who can get through to him.”

  “I’ll try my best, Tuck,” she says in a firm, yet soft tone. “Mae comes first. I have to make sure he signs all the legal paperwork today, and we need to take her to the pediatrician soon.”

  Ethan takes care of Sienna’s funeral with the little instructions that Rocco gives to him. Her parents, grandparents, and Sage are the only ones from the Heywood side to join us.

  Hannah and Alex remain by Rocco’s side. I keep Mae with me, though, sometimes, Ethan takes her to give me a break.

  Nana opens her house for the wake. Though, it’s Emmeline, my assistant, who organizes the gathering.

  “Hi,” Sage greets me, when she spots me and then looks at Mae who is wearing a purple dress Nana bought her yesterday with matching shoes. “She looks adorable. May I?”

  I hand her over carefully, placing a kiss on top of Mae’s head and wishing I could do the same with Sage. She looks sad but hasn’t cried at all. She’s been holding her grandmother’s hand and helping her grandfather walk around.

  “How are you doing?” I ask, and she gives me a sad smile. “That bad, huh?”

  “I’ll be okay.” She draws a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I can tell she’s working on keeping her emotions in check. Probably for her family and Mae.

  “As your mom said, it’s necessary to reach out to others and get help when you need it,” she says.

  “Are you getting counseling like Mom advised?” I assume.

  She nods. “I’m doing what I can, you know. My Reiki mentor has been working my chakras and I went to a counselor a couple of times. It’s never easy to lose someone, but when it’s so unexpected, it’s harder to assimilate and then to grieve.”

  “If you need anything…”

  Sage looks at Mae and sighs. “You have your hands full with the Ruckus.” She smirks, and when I get that she’s referring to Rocco and Mae, I can help but grin like a goof. “No pun intended.”

  “Different spelling, but you’re right. It’s been a hard week for all of us.”

  I don’t tell her that Rocco hasn’t acknowledged Mae or that we have a security guard watching him because he’s tried to go out of the house to buy drugs.

  “Do you need any help?” she asks. “I can come over on the weekends so you guys can … have a normal day.”

  I stare at her for a few seconds. It’s not like we need help with Mae or Rocco, but it’d be good to have her around. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends, but having her here would be a breath of fresh air.

  A different tune, more upbeat and powerful than what I’ve been listening to for the past week.

  “If you could, I’d appreciate you. We can send for you on Fridays, or any weekday in the afternoons if you have time to come for a few hours,” I propose.

  “Well, it’s not that I don’t want to help but coming every evening sounds exhausting,” she says. “Plus, I have things to do at the bookstore.”

  My alarm beeps, and it’s time to feed Mae.

  “Come with me. We’re going to get her bottle and ditch this reunion,” I announce, taking Mae into my arms and grabbing Sage’s hand.

  29

  Sage

  After the funeral, I fly back with my grandparents to Oregon. Once I settle them in and make sure they can be in charge of the bookstore for the weekend, I run to my place.

  I pack a bag for the weekend. I’ve never been impulsive, but when Tucker asked me to visit more often I … I felt like I needed to do it. He seems like the kind of guy who’d never ask for something like that, so when he does, it’s because he means it.

  I want to be there for him and Mae. They seem to be doing well, and yes, Rocco seems to be more work than Mae, but if I can give them a hand, I’ll be happy to oblige.

  This is something Sienna would want me to do, be there for her husband and her daughter. After the almost three-hour drive, I drag my luggage from the trunk and walk toward the main door. Zeke is coming out, and he looks at me then at the car.

  “That’s a death trap,” he says. “What year is it, ninety-two or ninety-three?”

  “Does it matter?”

  He nods. “Next time you need to visit us, call me—or either of the guys. Mae can’t be losing family.”

  “You’re leaving?” I ask, because it looked like the band was staying here to support Rocco.

  “Yep, I can’t be in a…” He snaps his mouth shut. “Listen, you seem like a good person. One of those who pay it forward and helps the old lady crossing the street. Rocco is having a hard time processing, but don’t take his weakness as a way to take the baby away.”

  “I only want what is best for her,” I reply. “That’s why I’m here, to help. The question is why are you not staying?”

  “Because sometimes, in order to help, you have to help yourself first. Rocco and I have a history of pushing each other down to the addiction hole. I can’t sink with him—again,” he says, shaking his head. “I promised myself that I’d stay clean.”

  Unsure of what to say or if I should even say anything, I wave at him and see him leave. My parents sheltered us from reality. It’s not like we didn’t know drug addicts. Wall Street has them by the dozens.

  There was always a dealer at the parties I went to, but I never saw the other side of the addiction: the struggle, the pain, the fear. It’s jarring to see what these guys are facing.

  When I enter the house, I can hear the piano playing, so I walk to the music room. This time there’s no sadness, just calm. I spot Alex bouncing Mae. Tucker’s holding a guitar, staring at it as if trying to find an answer between the strings.

  “Hey,” I greet them, feeling like I should’ve asked if today was a good day to visit.

  Tucker’s head lifts and when he sees me, he smiles. “You came back.”

  “I hope it’s okay,” I say, a bit embarrassed, because they obviously weren’t expecting me.

  Hannah stops playing, looks at me and then at Alex. “Tell Ethan to add one more steak to the grill, please. Welcome to the madness.”

  In that moment, their pets, who rest close to Alex, lift their heads and stare at me and then rise following behind Alex.

  Then Hannah looks at Tucker and says, “Can you help her take her things to the guest room across from you, please?”

  He sets the guitar on a pedestal and rises from his seat.

  “You should start an inn, Nana’s Bed & Breakfast,” he jokes, and she rolls her eyes before she continues playing the piano.

  “Why do you tease her so much?”

  “It’s fun.” He smirks like a little boy, and this might be the first time I have a glimpse of the real Tucker. He’s usually too serious and keeping me at a distance. “She dishes it out. Don’t feel sorry for her. Thank you for coming ba
ck.”

  “Zeke was leaving when I arrived,” I mention. “He seemed troubled.”

  He closes his eyes and nods. “Z and Rocco used to spiral down together. He’s working to break the cycle.”

  “Shouldn’t one of you be with him?” I ask, because I’m trying to understand their dynamic. He’s leaving so they can help Rocco, but who is helping him?

  “I would worry about him if he didn’t have my family. He’s on his way to hang out with my uncle and my father. They’re playing at the Silver Moon. If you want to, we can go and check them out.”

  “Shouldn’t you stay with Rocco?”

  “We can go out for a few hours. As Nana keeps telling us, we’re not chained to the house. There’s always going to be an adult around Rocco and another with Mae,” he tells me and takes my hand. “Come on, let’s go. It’ll be good for me to get some fresh air.”

  He then stops and gives me another glance. “Unless you’re not up to it. I don’t want to…”

  I stare at him, blown away, not only by his chiseled jaw and his mesmerizing gray eyes, but the gentleness and sensitivity of his words and his actions. The right thing to do would be to stay at home.

  He’s caring for Rocco and Mae, and I’m mourning for Sienna. But I’m reminded of what my counselor told me. Remember her, but don’t stop living because she’s gone.

  Also, this guy needs to get out of here. When was the last time he went out or took a few minutes for himself?

  Twenty minutes later, I’m walking down a dark alley. “Isn’t this the part where the heroine starts running the other way before she ends up in a basement tied up and waiting for her fate?”

  Tucker gazes at me, opens his mouth then shuts it.

  “No, really, tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I don’t think we’re in that place yet,” he offers, fighting a smirk. “We’re going in through the back. If you didn’t notice, there’s a long line outside the bar, and people easily recognize me out in public. We don’t need that kind of attention.”