I’m willing to set aside my disdain for beach parties, however, because as much as I dislike them, I also don’t like the idea of Billy being there with no one to watch out for him apart from his drunk and disorderly friends, who have already proven they can’t be trusted to take care of him. That much was clear when Van brought him back from the bar, drunker than a frat boy on frosh week. Last night was the first time I’d seen Van since then, and I still felt bad for assuming he’d had a hand in Billy being drunk, despite his shitty friends.
Even Tawny suggested I come, and I haven’t had a chance to get together with her and Allie yet, so this seems like as good an opportunity as any to make that happen.
I shrug. “If I’m not having fun, I won’t stay.”
An hour later I’m dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I bring a zip-up hoodie, just in case. It’s closing in on eight, and the sun is heading toward the horizon, kissing the tops of trees far off in the distance. Sometimes the breeze coming off the water can cool things down in the evening this early in the summer. It isn’t until mid-July that we get the truly hot and humid nights. Besides, it’s black fly season, and I don’t want to get eaten alive.
I even put on makeup, not because I think I need to impress anyone, but if I’m going to see all the people I went to high school with, I don’t want to look like a hag. I check my hair one last time, add some scent-free product to keep the curls from frizzing, and grab my purse, tossing a bottle of water in there so I can stay hydrated.
Billy’s already waiting for me on the porch, six-pack of beer at his feet, an open one in his hand. I’m almost certain he’s done with his antibiotics, since the infection has cleared up. I refrain from asking, though, not wanting to push his buttons. He’s in his midtwenties, and a lot of the guys I used to hang out with when I was his age could pound a twelve-pack without batting an eyelash.
He drains the rest of his beer, tosses the can in the recycling bin, and pushes out of the chair. He hops once, regains his balance, and reaches for his crutches propped against the screen next to his chair.
“You forgetting something?” I point to the six-pack.
He looks down. “Shit. Yeah.” He tries to bend over to pick it up with his crutches still tucked under his arms, which proves fruitless.
“I got it.” I nab them and head for Billy’s truck—the one he didn’t plow into a mailbox—with him crutching after me. This one he restored back in high school. It’s a 1980s Ford F-150 that’s in decent shape. A few dings in the fender and the tailgate, but otherwise it looks great and drives smoothly.
I drop the six-pack in the bed and get in, not bothering to ask if Billy needs help, since I’m aware he’ll most definitely not want mine.
“You gonna lecture me about drinking responsibly tonight?” he asks when we’re on the road, heading toward the beach.
“I wasn’t planning on it, since this is a beach party and I kind of figured the point is being irresponsible.”
He makes a noise in the back of his throat.
“Spit it out, Billy, say what you want to say.”
“I don’t need you to keep an eye on me. I’ll be fine with my friends.”
I sigh. I don’t want to fight with Billy. Ever since I’ve been home, that’s all we do, but his friends are part of the problem. He was with them the night he got that DUI, and they didn’t stop him from getting behind the wheel. Although I don’t have the full story, only the version my dad has given me. “These the same friends who left you at the bar the other night?”
“Dean’s sister was picking him up, and I wanted to finish my beer.”
“Right.” That’s why he was having a nap in one of the booths. I heard from Aaron that all the guys he’d come with had bailed, and no one aside from him and Van had done anything about it. I don’t bother to get into it with him, though, because I don’t want to set him off. “I’m not going to keep an eye on you. Tawny and Allie invited me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. Look, I’m not trying to be overprotective, or a buzzkill; I just want you to be safe. You could’ve been hurt far worse than you are. You’re my only brother. You can’t fault me for wanting to keep you around.”
“If you care so much, why haven’t you been home for more than a couple of days at a time since you went away for college?” There’s bite in his tone, but under that I can hear the hurt.
I tap the steering wheel, considering this. My leaving town had nothing to do with getting away from my family. It was the whole living in a small town, everyone knowing everything about me, all the relationship drama that people couldn’t help but get involved in; that was the reason I wanted out. “I don’t have a good answer for that, Billy. I’m here now, though, so maybe we can have a do-over? I’ll try to be more like a sister and less like another overbearing parent, and you can try to be less surly?”
He runs his hands down his thighs. “Yeah, I’ll work on being less of an asshole. Being cooped up all day in the house kinda sucks. And honestly, it kind of freaked me out having you back home. Dad’s always been so proud of you, going to college, moving to the city, getting a degree and a great job. Always talking about you to his friends with so much pride. And then there’s me.”
Billy started working for my dad right out of high school. In fact, he was already working for him in the summers as soon as he was old enough, and after school and on weekends during the busy season. They’ve always been tight, so hearing my brother talk about himself as though he’s less because he didn’t go to college isn’t something I expect. “You and dad are so close, though. You’ve been working together forever.”
He shrugs. “It made sense to work for Dad. I’m good at following orders and working with my hands, but only if the end result is money in my pocket. You’re good at everything. I’ve always been the trouble, and you’ve always been the golden child. It’s just how it is.”
“I got up to just as much mischief as you did. I just didn’t get caught.”
“Because you’re smart enough not to. I’m obviously not.”
It never occurred to me that Billy didn’t go the college route because he wasn’t capable. He had decent grades, not awesome, but then he spent as much time skipping classes as he did going to them. And I always assumed he did this because he was bored and preferred the hands-on stuff to the paperwork. “I’m good with a textbook, and you’re good at all the things I’m not. Boys are always more impulsive than girls and more prone to finding trouble. Remember that time you and Tommy rigged up a zip line with a bike? That was insanity, and none of us tried to stop you either.”
Billy laughs at the memory. “Tommy wasn’t allowed out with us for a while after that.”
“Well, he did break his collarbone. And honestly, it probably would have worked if someone who didn’t weigh two hundred and fifty pounds had gone first.”
“I purposely drew the short straw so it wouldn’t be me.”
“See? That’s smart. Let someone else be the guinea pig so you’re not the one breaking bones.” I grin at my brother, who’s smiling back at me.
This is better. More like how it used to be when we were younger. When things were less complicated and there weren’t responsibilities to get in the way. I used to pick him up all the time after he’d been out with his friends, smoking weed they’d grown in the forest or drinking beers they’d stolen from someone’s older brother. I covered for him all the time, but when I went to college, I couldn’t do that anymore.
It was like taking the leash off a dog without teaching him not to run away. At least that’s how it seems. I’d been so focused on getting out and away from Tucker and everything else in Pearl Lake that I hadn’t considered how it affected Billy. Or how he might feel like he was part of the reason I’d left in the first place.
The beach parking lot is full by the time we get there. I drop Billy off at the path and drive a block west before parking the truck in an old brush- and weed-filled turnaround. There’s an
overgrown path that forks off at the edge of the small clearing. The right side will take me to the beach, while the other one twists and turns and forks again, eventually leading to a tiny abandoned hunting cabin I found when I was a teenager and then used as my thinking spot. I never told anyone about it, mostly because I didn’t want the guys to ransack it.
I check my reflection in the rearview mirror and consider putting on some lip gloss, but I decide that would be a step too far in the “I care” direction. I shoulder my purse and check my messages, relieved to find one from Tawny letting me know that she and Allie are already at the beach, near the old docks.
I swallow down my nerves, worried about seeing Allie for the first time. Tawny has always been an easy-to-forgive kind of person, but I’m not sure Allie is going to let me off so easy. I shake off the apprehension and head down the path, the weeds soon giving way to soft sand.
There are two main beaches on Pearl Lake: one on the McMansion side, which is maintained by the town, and the townie beach, where all the parties are held. It’s set on the southwest side of the lake, but the town doesn’t have the funds to maintain it, so it’s grassier and lined with old falling-apart docks. Mostly it’s the townies who hang out here, but sometimes the kids from the other side will catch wind that a party’s going on and will show up. When I was young, that often resulted in a lot of random hookups, broken hearts, and broken noses.
I pop out of the bushes at the far end of the beach. It’s already dotted with people drinking out of red Solo cups. I haven’t been here in years, and the beach has degraded in that time. It’s sad, really, because with a little effort, some money, and community help, it could be a gorgeous place for families to picnic, not just a place for people to hang out and drink at night.
I glance up at the sky and see dark clouds rolling in. I didn’t think it was supposed to rain tonight, but the weather here can change on a dime, and it’s prime thunderstorm season. Besides, we could use the rain. I scan the beach, full of so many familiar faces. Almost all the people I went to high school with are here, older now, some already married with kids. I was one of the few people who left. I think Aaron was one of the only other people, and Tucker briefly, but look at us, all back again.
A pit opens in my stomach, those stupid nerves making me edgy. I have so many memories of this place, some good—most of them, actually—but a few bad ones seem to overshadow those, and they’re all related to Tucker. Looking back, I realize he was such a waste of time, but if I’d broken up with him for good, I might have ended up with someone who would have made me want to stay here, and I needed a reason to leave. Tucker was a necessary evil.
A huge bonfire has been set in the middle of the beach, with half a birch tree laid across it. Sparks spit in the air, beautiful and dangerous. A large group of people has congregated there, so I avoid it and stay close to the shore.
It takes me a good half hour to find Tawny and Allie, mostly because I only make it about five feet before I’m stopped by people I know. Some fish for information about Billy, most are surprised to see me back, but I feel . . . welcomed. Almost comfortable with how everyone seems to greet me, as if I’d gone on an extended vacation and eventually decided to come home.
I finally make it over to Tawny, who as promised is by the old docks.
“I thought you got here half an hour ago?” Tawny says, handing me an insulated coffee mug.
“What’s this?” I sniff the contents.
“Vodka and cran, light on the cran.”
I take a sip and fight a cough. “You’re not kidding. Where’s Allie?”
“She’s breaking the seal.”
“Already? She’ll be peeing every half hour.”
Tawny lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “That’s what I said, but you know what she’s like. Tommy mentioned having to pee, and that was it: she couldn’t hold it anymore.”
I shake my head on a laugh. “Nothing ever changes, does it?”
“Not really. Except for the receding hairlines, beer bellies, and stretch marks, as far as I can tell.”
The sun is disappearing, only a sliver of it visible through the thick layers of low-hanging clouds. “Looks like a storm might be rolling in.”
“Yeah. The weather forecast is looking grim tonight, which is why we figured it was a good idea to come early. Besides, you know how it is. The underagers always show up around eleven, and then things get shut down because they’re too loud and create a ruckus.”
“We used to be those underagers,” I point out.
She clinks her insulated mug against mine. “Weren’t those the good old days?”
“They were. Except on those occasions when Tucker couldn’t keep his dick out of whatever girl caught his eye that night.”
Tawny makes a face. “Not much has changed there.”
“Not much has changed about what?” Allie appears from out of nowhere and scares the crap out of both of us. She’s stunning, all long legs and dark hair, full lips, and a smile that lights up any room. But she’s not smiling now. “Wow, you showed. Gotta say, I half expected you to stand us up like you’ve been doing for the past decade.” Allie arches an eyebrow, and her pursed lips disappear behind her thermal mug as she takes a sip of her drink.
“Allie, come on.” Tawny has always been the peacekeeper of the group. Maybe to a fault.
“It’s okay.” I hold up a hand. “Allie’s right. I’ve been a crappy friend, and there isn’t an excuse that’s good enough to explain why I’ve dodged everyone I know for the past decade.”
“Why dodge us at all, though? I don’t get it. We were all so tight for so long, and then, poof.” She snaps her fingers. “You were just . . . gone.” Underneath the anger is hurt.
And I realize that hurt is one of the reasons I ghosted people for so long. I knew Tawny would let it go, but Allie has always been confrontational. Not one to back down from a fight, she lays it all out, and I never gave her a chance to do that, because then I would’ve had to come to terms with the fact that I was a bad friend.
“I was afraid of this,” I admit, motioning between us.
“What is this, exactly?” Allie’s eyes shift away, focusing on some point in the distance.
“Knowing that I hurt you both when I left and didn’t come back. I wanted to start over, but I did miss you both so much.”
“So why ghost us, then? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Not to you, but to me it did. I was afraid if I held on to the people who made this place bearable, then I’d never be able to stay away. I didn’t want to get sucked back in. I didn’t want to end up stuck here.”
Allie huffs. “Is it really so bad here?”
“No. Yes. To eighteen-year-old me, it was. I needed to leave. And I felt like the only way to do that was to cut ties to this place. But looking back, I know it was wrong. And here I am, back in Pearl Lake.”
“I thought it was something we’d done, or that you were embarrassed because we’re too country and you became all citified.”
“Oh my God, no, Allie. I missed the hell out of you two. It was everything else I was trying to get away from that was the problem. I’m sorry if I made you think it was you.”
She pulls me in for a hug. “You’re forgiven. As long as you don’t ghost us for another decade again.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
She releases me and steps back. This time her smile is real. “It’s good to have you home, Dee. We missed having you around; the Terror Trifecta isn’t as effective with just the two of us.”
“It’s really good to be here.” And I genuinely mean it. The good outweighs the bad.
CHAPTER 12
CONNECTED DOTS
Dillion
The three of us sit on one of the big rocks near the water—they’re as uncomfortable as I remember—observing the party from the sidelines, just like old times. Half hall monitor, half voyeur. I scan the beach, looking for my brother. I find him close to the campfire, laughing boister
ously with a group of guys.
“How bad are the bathrooms?” Tawny asks.
“Bad.” Allie grimaces. “I used the bushes. It blows my mind how gross girls can be when they’re trying to hover pee. And they ran out of toilet paper already, so these will have to do.” Allie pulls out a wad of napkins pilfered from the diner and passes us each a small handful, which we tuck into our purses.
“Fair warning: I saw Tucker hanging out by the keg on my way back over here.”
“Is Sue with him?” Tawny asks.
Allie arches a brow. “What do you think?”
“She’s probably stuck at home with the baby, while he goes out, gets wasted, and hits on whoever.”
I make a disgusted sound. “Baby? I didn’t know they had a baby.” It makes what he said about me ending up under him that much worse.
Allie looks to Tawny. “How old is the baby now? Maybe a couple of months?”
“Good grief. What a dog. He hasn’t changed, has he?”
“Nope. Just a heads-up that word got back to Sue that you were talking with him downtown, and that new guy who’s living at Bee’s showed up and they got into it.”
“Of course.” I roll my eyes. “I can’t say I miss the small-town gossip. And Van didn’t get into it with Tucker.” At least not while I was there.
“Maybe they did after you left? Anyway, apparently Sue lost her shit over it, and Tucker had to sleep in his car that night,” Tawny says with a sigh.
“Wow. Tucker’s made a real mess of things, hasn’t he?”
“I sort of feel bad for Sue. I mean, I know she always had her eye on him, even when the two of you were together and solid, but he’s way worse now than he was when he was with you.” Allie gives me a sympathetic look.
“I put up with more than I should have, and it sounds like she does too.”
“At least you smartened up and got the heck out of Dodge when you had the chance. Made a clean break and all that,” Tawny offers.
“As much as it sucked when you left, I’m glad it’s not you in Sue’s position. No one should be that miserable,” Allie adds.
Love Next Door Page 12
