by Louise, Tia
“What about my problem? The PTSD?”
Her lips press together and she walks around the desk again, pausing in front of her large window. “You have to bend with the ups and downs in life. God gives us partners to help us carry our burdens.” A few moments pass, and she returns to her chair. “If it were me, I would let Drew decide what she can and cannot handle. Remember the words of the lord, ‘Love covers a multitude of sins.’”
I’ve heard the words before, but I still have doubts. “And her father?”
“He has to conquer his own demons. You can’t do it for him.”
I open the cover of the journal and place the very important papers inside. “I should go and check on the estate.”
“I’m sure you’ll be very pleased.” She gives me a nod. “Just remember what you learned here. You can’t live without love.”
Chapter 31
Drew
They moved my father to a nursing home. His doctor said the damage wasn’t as extensive as she’d feared, but she hopes by keeping him in a controlled environment, they might be able to help him with his addiction.
Speaking of help, I had to return to work. After being out a week, I see that Ruby is right. While he’s still sure the government is wiretapping all our phones and the current president is channeling Richard Nixon, his friendship with Sylvia Green seems to have given him a focus for his life.
I look down at my past notes on the computer screen as he tells me about their exploits around town, and I can’t help a sad little smile. Lifting my pen, I write slowly. No longer an outsider.
While I wouldn’t characterize their relationship as anything more than friendly, I know they’ve developed a fondness for each other. Love is healing my client.
During my lunch hour, I walk down to the garage. I’ve driven past it several times, straining my eyes for any sign of Gray. He hasn’t come back since the night of our dinner.
Billy, however, has been keeping the place up and running, which gives me an idea. He’s talking to Remington Key when I tap lightly on the open door.
“Miss Drew.” Both men turn and walk to where I’m standing. Billy’s face is lined with concern. “You’re not having trouble with the Jag?”
“Oh, no.” Shaking my head, I smile up at them. “I was just… I just was wondering…” Shit. I’m going to look like a crazy stalker.
Or a dumped girlfriend who can’t take a hint.
Is that what I’ve become? My stomach cramps at the notion.
“Gray had to go back to Delaware.” Billy doesn’t need help reading my mind. “He said his aunt died.”
“He called you?” The thought of him calling Billy and ignoring me is even worse than not knowing anything.
“Not since he left. He didn’t even call really. He just sent me a text.”
That bit of information eases my suffering a tiny bit. “I was just… worried about him.” No point denying it.
“Yeah, me too.” Billy nods, holding the clipboard to his chest. “He didn’t say when he’d be back.”
My shoulders droop, and I almost forget Remi standing right beside us. “Was he close to his aunt?” His low voice has a nice resonance.
I blink away the mist from my eyes and give him a sad smile. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
Remi is thoughtful a moment. “When my wife died… you remember? I wasn’t up for talking to anyone. I just wanted to be alone. Then after a little while, I couldn’t stand being alone.”
It’s a nice sentiment. I wish it made me feel better. “Thanks, Remi. See you around, Billy.”
“No problem.” Billy actually looks sad for me. I reach out and give his arm a squeeze. “If I hear from him, I’ll tell him to call you.”
Even though it changes nothing, it’s nice to know somebody’s rooting for us. I mean, in addition to Ruby. Someone who Gray might listen to… although, I have no way of knowing if Gray listens to Billy.
More time passes. My texts to Gray have become a daily journal of my life. I send him a text letting him know what the weather is like. I send him a text telling him the Jag is running so smoothly. I send him a text saying I’m going to the lake house to clean out Danny’s things…
Cleaning out my brother’s old room is a task I put off for too long. My dad won’t let us touch anything in the main house in town, but the items in his lake house room are simply gathering dust.
Empty boxes are arranged around the bedroom. When I open the closet door, his scent hits me right in the face, and I have to sit down. For a moment, I think this might be a terrible idea.
I walk downstairs and start opening and closing cabinets. When Gray and I were here, we drank the bottle of red wine I’d ordered from the grocery. The cabinets are bare except for a box of crackers and a can of soup left from that order.
The refrigerator only has the rest of that loaf of bread and cheese. A few cans of soda are in the drawer below. Opening the freezer, a sad smile curls my lips. An old bottle of Skyy vodka sits in the very back.
“Way to go, Danny,” I mutter, pulling it out and turning it in my hands.
It’s cheap and old, but does vodka go bad? I pull down a tumbler ready to find out. I pour it straight over ice before stepping to the radio and switching on the streaming service.
It picks up right where we left off last time. Sam Cooke singing on the radio about bringing your love home to me. Snatching up my phone, I type another text to Gray.
Me: At the lake house cleaning. Wishing you’d show up at my door again.
That night has a different meaning to me now that I know about his PTSD. I realize now the panic he was fighting, the flashbacks. At the time, I only saw the fire in his eyes, his desire when my robe opened and he saw my body for the first time in so long.
My nipples tighten at the memory. It was wild and fierce and demanding, and I needed him so much. I need him now.
With a sigh, I take a long drink of the clear liquor. It only burns a little going down, and I walk slowly up to my brother’s room again.
I gather his clothes into bags for donation to the Goodwill. I keep a few items back for memory. The pictures I put in a box along with his football trophies.
Gazing at those old group photos, I smile at the guys scowling, doing their best to look tough. Gray’s image makes my heart beat faster. His steely eyes burn at me from the past. I was so in love with him back then, but he didn’t notice me until he went away to college.
Blinking fast, I hope history repeats itself.
Perhaps by going away, he’ll remember me again?
Several hours pass. Marvin Gaye, Sam Cooke, Al Green, and more filter through the radio as I finish boxing up the past. The last thing I find on the very top shelf of Danny’s closet takes me by surprise.
It’s a black leather-bound journal, and it looks ancient. I never knew my brother to keep a journal, and I walk over to sit on his bed and look inside.
At first I hesitate. Is it violating his privacy to read it now? I decide it’s not, since he’s not here to care. Cracking open the cover, I trace my finger over the handwriting.
“Who writes anything down anymore?” I whisper to myself.
At the same time, I guess I make my therapy notes on paper first. I think it helps to organize my thoughts.
The first entries are pretty basic stuff. He’s pissed about football practice. He thinks he was on the bench too much.
It goes on about the same. He records his and Gray’s antics sneaking into the swimming pool at the senior center after hours, sneaking into the high school to steal a test.
All of these stunts sound masterminded by Daniel Harris. Gray was never much of a troublemaker. It’s not until I get to the end that I read a passage that stops me.
Dad says to keep him away from Drew, but Gray is one of the best guys I know…
My breath catches, and I flip back a page. Scanning quickly, the words make my heart beat faster as I read them.
He believes she was i
n love with Mack Cole and planning to leave with him. He says Mack comes from money back East. I don’t believe that. Why would he work in a filthy garage in this little town?
My jaw drops, and my hands begin to tremble.
As I dig deeper, I learn my father suspected my mother of having an affair with Gray’s uncle.
“Oh my God…” The words slip out on a hiss. “It’s why he always hated him.”
Taking a deep breath, I lean my head back against the side of the bed, doing my best to calm my racing pulse. I never knew about any of this. Did Gray know?
Flipping ahead, I see the letter M and stop.
…Mack’s garage today. He claims it’s a lie. He shouted at me it was worthless gossip. He was so angry, I think I believe him. He said Mom only tried to comfort him when he wanted to give up. That sounds more like it. Dad’s drunk. The Cole’s don’t have any money. And Gray is still my best friend. He’s the best guy I know.
“Gray…” I look up where my phone sits on my bed.
I want to show him this. I want him to know how my brother really felt. Maybe it would help him heal. I’d do anything to take that dark look out of his eyes.
Pushing off the floor, I stuff the journal in my purse. Now I have two things to show Gray when he gets back. If he ever comes back.
Grabbing my phone I send one more text.
Me: I’m still waiting. Please come home. Let’s heal together.
“Remember what happened the last time you went on a date?” Ruby is wrapping her hair around the barrel of a curling iron, creating huge curls.
“Oh, no. I’d rather die than call Ralph again. Not only did I have to put up with him, I had to put up with his mother.”
“But the night turned out really hot…” She sing-songs.
Only because Gray was in town, I mentally add, thinking how that was almost six weeks ago, thinking about the date of my last period. This morning I looked at my calendar, and I’ve been chewing my lip ever since, debating whether I should stop by a drugstore, trying to figure out what to do if I’m right.
“What are you thinking?” Ruby is like a hawk watching me.
My eyes flicker down to the glossy pages of the Teen Vogue in front of me. “I’m wondering why the hell you’re still getting Teen Vogue. Are you having a crisis I should know about?”
She turns to the mirror again, lifting another lock of glossy, raven hair around the straight curling iron. “I thought it might help me relate to my younger clients. You know. Knowing about what they’re interested in? Plus I love those cute shoes. And look at that little dress!”
“You can’t wear these clothes. You’ll look ridiculous.” Although, as I say it, with her petite figure, she could probably get away with all of these styles.
Turning to face me, she rakes her fingers through her new waves.
“That looks really good on you.”
“Really?” Her head whips back to the mirror, and the way she starts swishing it back and forth, making faces, almost makes me laugh.
It’s the oddest thing. Ever since I found Danny’s journal, I’ve had this unexpected flood of hope. Gray still hasn’t replied to my texts, but I feel like a cosmic shift has occurred. It’s like for the first time in my life, the universe is conspiring to help me. Like it might be okay if…
“I was thinking maybe I’d get that surgery done on my eyes.” She pulls the corners of her eyes wider. “You know, to make them rounder?”
“Don’t you dare!” I sit up quick on her bed. “I love your eyes just the way they are.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Round Eyes.” She shakes her now-wavy head, and I frown.
“You are beautiful. Stop picking yourself apart.”
“Aw!” She stands and walks over to kiss my forehead. “Thanks, sis. Now. Let’s get you changed. You don’t have to call a guy, but you’re going out with me.”
“Nothing in me feels like going out.” I allow her to drag me off the bed.
Unlike the universe, my bestie is always willing to help me… in a very meddling and pushy way. A lot like her mother.
“Your hair looks good.” Standing side by side in the mirror, our hair looks almost identical, except mine is light blonde. “Try this on.”
She tosses me a super short, high-waisted mini with a long-sleeved cropped shirt. “This is kind of… revealing.”
“Sexy.” She says the word on top of my observation. “You’ll look amazing in that.”
“I don’t really want to look amazing. I’m not trying to meet anybody.”
“That’s the worst attitude I’ve ever heard in my life.” I watch as she changes into a velvet sheath dress.
It slides down her petite frame, and I step over to pull on the skirt and long-sleeved top. She’s right about it looking sexy. The top stretches over my breasts, and the skirt makes my legs look a mile long.
With a little sigh, I wish Gray were here. He loves my curves.
“Okay, so where are we going on this girlfriend date?” I walk to her makeup mirror and touch some powder on my nose. “You hate everywhere in Oakville.”
“I do not hate everywhere in Oakville. I just know everyone in Oakville. There’s a difference.” She pauses to slide deep red lipstick over her rosebud lips. “The Red Cat is super funky and vintage. Have you ever been there?”
“It’s really more of an old person’s bar, isn’t’ it?” My nose curls as I touch up my bright pink lips. “We always went to places on the lake.”
She squeezes my shoulder. “Tonight we’re doing something new. And you’re going to love it!”
With a sigh, I give myself a reassuring look. Come on, universe. Don’t let me down this time.
Chapter 32
Gray
It’s a nine-hour drive from my family’s place in Delaware south to Oakville. I’m going to make it in a day.
I’ve spent the last two weeks settling my aunt’s affairs and acquainting myself with my newly acquired property. The house… strike that. The forty thousand square foot mansion is pretty ridiculous.
From what I’ve learned, my great grandfather was in the steel business… and a bootlegger on the side. That second bit of information I found while digging in one of the old studies on the third floor. The place has a hundred and fifty rooms.
Sister Constance didn’t tell me it came with a butler, a cook, and a housekeeper on call. I did call them, but more to help me figure out where everything was than to act as my servants.
Walking the halls of the old mansion, looking at all the furniture draped in sheets, gave me an unfamiliar sense of family pride. It’s something I’ve never experienced before, and for the first few days, I allowed it to sink into my brain, restore a sense of belonging I’d lost after my uncle died.
Mack never told me about all of this… I’m not exactly sure why, since he went through so much trouble making sure I’d inherit it after Genevieve died. Maybe he thought I’d be reckless with it?
More than anything, I feel a quiet sense of awe. A growing sense of security. A need to find healing so I can bring Drew here. The idea I had in Constance’s office faded the longer I walked the dark wood hallways, looking at portraits of familiar-looking people I don’t know.
I don’t want to be like them. I don’t want to be a recluse, growing old in a castle no one knows about, completely alone. Plus, Drew would shit twice and die if she saw the library in this place.
My assignment to keep a journal has helped me more than I believed it would. In the evenings, I walk down a flagstone path, past concrete urns bigger than me overflowing with vines, into a thick, wisteria-lined garden. It’s cold, but the snow has stopped, and I sit on a wooden bench looking out over the vast property down toward the large pond where a boat sits waiting to be used.
Then I write.
I force myself to go back and remember the good days when we were teens. I remember when Danny and I really became friends in middle school. A fancy name doesn’t matt
er much in public school, and we had to be allies against the bigger boys.
I remember the nights we spent in the pool house talking about our plans. I remember silly things like practicing spitting and learning to yo-yo. Then we got older, and Danny swiped his dad’s old Playboys. Then we discovered the wonders of the Internet.
Danny used to say I was his best friend. Hell, all the way up until he died, we were thick as thieves. I was good enough to be his friend. I am good enough for Drew. Even more so now.
Writing it all down helps me to ask the questions and explore the answers, even if I can never have the conversation with Danny in person. Even if I never know why he said what he did.
I also got that old roll of film Leslie gave me developed. More than anything, it was the final kick in the pants I needed to get in my truck and drive south.
Out of a roll of twenty-four, almost all of them were taken that summer at the lake house. Most were selfies of Leslie and Danny.
It hurt seeing him so young and happy at first, but after a while, it made me smile to remember him having fun, acting silly. Him with his arms around Leslie. Him with his hands under her bikini top. Asshole, I laugh to myself, setting them in a stack to the side.
The ones I cherish the most are of Drew and me. It’s weird because Leslie took shots of us… I guess they’re pretty intimate. Times when we didn’t know she was watching.
My favorite is one taken from behind Drew. I don’t know why I didn’t see Leslie take it. I’m facing Drew and her back is to the camera. Her bikini top hangs off one finger, leaving her topless facing me.
I chuckle to myself when I look at it. My expression is complete infatuation. I’m smiling because my dog is climbing a hill like it did pretty much that entire summer looking at her pretty breasts, touching them, making her mine.
