Embracing Reckless

by Melanie Shawn

  Was this whole situation with Clay just getting to be too much? As exciting and wonderful as it was, and as much as I cared about him and wanted him in my life, was he ultimately going to be the path that led to my destruction?

  Not to mention, he was Janine’s son. Janine and Stuart were becoming so important to me, too. With them, I saw a shot at a “normal” family, with stable parental units who actually cared about me, and about Sandy, more than they cared about themselves. Or alcohol.

  Was I willing to see that crumble in front of my eyes if things between Clay and me went south at some point? Now that I finally had a father, could I afford to put that at risk? Not to mention taking care of Sandy. And being there for my mother, which wasn’t exactly a dream come true, but was my responsibility.

  I mean, I guess she technically wasn’t…but, just like with most of my life: if I didn’t take care of it, who would?

  Damn, Brandy. Get that printed on a T-shirt, girl. That should be your personal motto.

  I struggled to draw breath under the weight of the one-thousand-pound cement block that sat on my chest.

  What. The fuck. Was I going to do?

  Because one thing was for sure. Continuing on like this was not an option.

  Chapter 39

  Brandy

  I clung to Clay’s back as we zipped through the redwoods on his bike and squeezed my eyes shut so that I could just focus on the sensations—the wind whipping past my face, the solid warmth of Clay’s back and chest, the rumble of the powerful machine underneath me…

  I had to let it go. I had to let it all go, no matter how much I’d grown to love it.

  I’d come to the decision. I’d thought it through a million ways and made up my mind. The only thing I still had to do was actually summon up the courage to tell Clay.

  God, there just weren’t words for how much I hated to do this. But I didn’t have a choice. I really didn’t.

  Did I?

  No.

  I squashed the impulse to be weak. I wasn’t weak. I was dependable. Good, old dependable Brandy. Always there for everyone. Pulling everyone’s ass out of the fire.

  It wasn’t ideal, but it was my role. People had grown to expect it now. To, well…depend on it. I couldn’t just abandon them.

  Sandy, my mother…they were family. I had responsibilities. To throw those aside and follow my own feelings would be foolish and selfish, and I wasn’t either one of those things.

  There were so many things happening right now. So many changes. So many people needed my support.

  So this had to be done.

  Clay slowed the bike as we came to a scenic overlook and pulled off into the clearing. We climbed off and walked to the edge, peering out across the great expanse of valley stretched out in front of us. It was spectacular, covered in deep green pine trees with wispy trails of mist winding their way through the tops of the trees.

  If I tried hard, I could imagine that this wasn’t real. We were just in a scene from Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. This was all just a story.

  But then Clay put his arm around me and pulled me close, and I looked up into his face. It was lit up with pure affection. I’d even say adoration, if I were in the mood to flatter myself. And I knew in that moment it wasn’t fair to let this go on.

  When I was with him, I felt free and unfettered. I knew that he’d take care of everything, including me, and I didn’t have to worry. But that was a fantasy. It wasn’t real life; I couldn’t stay in this beautiful dream with him forever. Not when Sandy and my mom still needed me so much.

  That’s not who I was.

  “Let’s sit,” I suggested and gestured at the stone bench that sat along the retaining wall about a yard away from us.

  After we were settled, I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t look at him. I wouldn’t be strong enough to say what I had to if I was looking at him.

  “You’re really quiet. What’s wrong? Is it your mom?”

  “Yeah. But not in the way you’d think.”

  “What do you mean?” His voice sounded wary.

  I took a deep breath and dove in. “I just…she’s decided to quit drinking. I mean, again. Sure. It’s happened a lot before, and it’s never really stuck, but I don’t know. She seems… different this time?”

  “Is that a question?”

  “No. She definitely seems different. I guess the question is whether that means this time actually is different, or whether it’s going to stay in the ‘seems’ category. And, either way, she’s going to need me to be there for her and support her.”

  “Okay. And that’s what’s on your mind?”

  “Partly. Then there’s also Sandy. This whole thing of finding out we actually have a dad—I mean a living dad, who’s going to be in our lives—she’s going to need a lot of support from me. You know, to process that.”

  “Huh. She seemed fine to me. Pretty happy, even.”

  “Sure. She seemed happy. And she is happy. But sometimes she gets manic about things she’s happy about, and that can lead her to do even more flighty and boneheaded things than she’d do if she were depressed. And then, of course, there’s the whole thing with Hunter.”

  “Oh, that’s a ‘whole thing,’ huh?”

  “It’s totally a whole thing. Sure, she’s super stoked about it now. But how’s she gonna be a week after Hunter leaves to go back to school?”

  “Um. Sad?” he guessed.

  “Yeah, sad. Falling apart, in fact. I’d bet on it. And she’s gonna need me. To lean on, to keep her together. It’s gonna be intense.”

  “It is, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  Silence stretched between us. Clay finally broke it when he said, “I feel like all of this is leading somewhere. Do you have something to say to me?”

  I squeezed my eyes closed. I didn’t want to. But I had to.

  “I can’t be with you right now,” I whispered.

  He was silent for a while, then calmly said, “Why?”

  That wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d thought that maybe he’d yell at me, maybe he’d call me names, maybe he’d storm off. But the last thing I’d expected was a reasonable question in a calm tone of voice.

  Damn. Maybe my upbringing had conditioned me to expect drama. Maybe it had normalized it to the point that I really expected that being on the receiving end of hysterics—yelling, crying, screaming, throwing things—was the only option when delivering difficult news.

  This calm way of discussing things was new to me, and I liked it. It felt adult, and rational, and those were two things that I valued.

  Still it didn’t make the news I was delivering any more bearable. It was still painful to say the words. In fact, they made me feel absolutely sick to my stomach as I heard them coming out of my mouth.

  “For all of the reasons I just told you,” I whispered, a tear running down my cheek.

  He shook his head. “None of those were reasons, Bran. They were ‘maybes’ you invented in your own mind.”

  I barked out a bitter laugh. “They’re not ‘maybes.’ I didn’t pull these scenarios out of thin air. These are the way I know things will play out based on long experience, Clay. If you want to call them anything, then let’s call them ‘probablies.’”

  “Okay. I can live with that.”

  “Oh, good, I’m glad you can live with that.” My sarcastic streak in the face of conflict has never been my most attractive quality, but it had been one of my most persistent.

  “So, even if they’re ‘probablies,’ why do any of them mean that you can’t see me anymore?”

  “Well, because my family needs me.”

  “They don’t need you, Brandy. In situations that may or may not happen at some point in the future, they may or may not need you. But, even then, I’m asking you a simple question—why does that mean you can’t see me?”

  “I… it just does!” I felt my brain spinning out of control. Tears fell down my face.

  “Why?”


  How in the hell was Clay still so calm when I thought I might hyperventilate?

  “Because…” I felt something hot and molten boiling up inside me, and then words came spilling out of my mouth in a tumble, expressing feelings I hadn’t even admitted to myself that I had. “I’m not myself when I’m with you! I’m just happy, and I don’t care about consequences because I know that you can take care of both of us and that’s what I want but that’s not what my mother and sister need. They need reliable, dependable Brandy who makes sure the bills get paid on time and there’s food in the fridge even though I’m only in the third grade!”

  I leaned forward, breathing hard. Clay rubbed my back as I calmed down slowly, bit by bit.

  Finally, he said, “But you’re not in the third grade anymore. And neither is your sister. She’s an adult, and so is your mom. When do you get to live your own life?”

  I looked over at him, into that handsome, wonderful face that I couldn’t imagine living without even though I was letting him go. I smiled gently even though despair settled in the pit of my belly as I said, “I don’t know, Clay. But I know it’s not today.”

  Chapter 40

  Brandy

  “Ev, I don’t know if this is such a good idea. I mean, what kind of book is the school library going to have that’s gonna help me get over how shitty I feel about not being with Clay? It’s not exactly a ‘research library book’ kind of problem.”

  Evelyn shrugged as we moved between the stacks. “I don’t know. I just thought…hey, Brandy’s very studious. She likes the library. Also, she has a problem and she needs to know how to solve it. Where do you get information? The library. It, like, worked on multiple levels.”

  Just then, a girl with a bright pink streak in her hair turned into the aisle that we were on, a stack of books piled high in her arms. I brightened at the sight of her. “Oh, hey, Michelle!”

  “Hey, guys!” She came over to us and set the impressive stack of books she was holding down on an empty space in the shelf right next to us. “It’s good to see you. What are you looking for? Can I help you?”

  I shook my head, feeling silly at even the thought of explaining our mission. “Remember Clay, the guy I met over spring break? I told you about him?”

  “Yep. He sounds great.”

  “He is,” I said miserably. “But we aren’t. We broke up.”

  She put her hand on my shoulder. “Sorry about that, Brandy. That sucks.”

  Evelyn took over. “So now we’re here looking for books that might be able to make Brandy feel better. You know, of the self-help variety.”

  “Hmmm. This is really more of a research library. We don’t have a whole lot of commercial categories, like self-help. Did you have a particular title in mind? I could go and look it up to see if we’ve got it.”

  “Not sure. Maybe something like I Broke Up With My Boyfriend But I’m Moping Around Like He Broke Up With Me. Or, the classic Guys with Leather Jackets Hiding Hearts of Gold and the Women Who Won’t Let Themselves Love Them. Something along those lines.”

  I shook my head. “You think you’re real funny, Evelyn.”

  “Correction. I know I am.”

  Michelle, ever the conscientious library employee, took a serious stab at the conundrum. “We don’t really have anything like that. But we do have the psychology section. It’s academic, so it would be pretty dry reading. Still, there are some texts on the psychological underpinnings behind self-sabotage. Things like that. Interested?”

  Evelyn grinned. In my opinion, it was just a little wider than the situation called for. “Lead the way, Library Goddess.”

  As we made our way over to the psychology section, Michelle said, “You know what you really need? A good, old-fashioned girlfriend gossip session. We can do that when we get together tonight for study group.”

  “I hope you’re putting the words ‘study group’ in air quotes. We haven’t studied in months,” Evelyn laughed.

  “Exactly,” Michelle agreed. “That’s why putting Brandy’s breakup right at the top of our agenda for topics of conversation will be a no-brainer.”

  I didn’t exactly love the idea. The center of attention was not my favorite place in the world. But, hell, if they could shed some light on making me feel better, I’d take it.

  Besides. Once that group of girls sank their teeth into a topic, they were like terriers. They were never letting go. So, apparently my love life, or lack thereof, was going to be discussed among the group that evening whether I liked it or not. May as well just go with the flow.

  “Sounds good,” I said, and I even managed to sound halfway enthusiastic about the prospect.

  Chapter 41

  Brandy

  “Come on, Brandy. Don’t be sad,” Cat said, her voice filled with tender concern.

  “She should be sad. That was a bonehead move, dumping Clay,” Sandy interjected with her usual confidence. She had no doubts whatsoever that her opinion was a hundred percent correct, as usual. And, also as usual, she’d completely overlooked the fact that a big part of my decision—my sacrifice—was because of her.

  “The situation was a little more nuanced than that.”

  She let out a disbelieving snort.

  I looked around at the rest of the girls in the room. Besides Sandy and Cat and I, there was also Evelyn and Michelle. At the beginning of last semester, we’d formed a study club called Around the Bend. ATB, for short. Within a couple of weeks, though, it had devolved into a weekly hangout session. I didn’t mind at all, which surprised the others. Being the most studious of the group, they’d all thought I’d be the one to object. But the truth was, I could study anytime on my own, and probably more effectively, too. Girl time was harder to come by.

  But now, I really was being a buzzkill. Not for the reason they’d originally thought I’d be. But still. “Sorry, guys,” I said regretfully, “I realize I’m bringing down the room. It’s not my intention. This is just really hard.”

  “Of course it is!” Michelle interjected. “And you’re not bringing us down.”

  “Yeah. This is what these nights are for—talking about what’s going on in our lives,” Evelyn added.

  “I thought they were for drinking wine coolers and trying to copy ridiculously complicated YouTube nail polish tutorials after we’d gotten a buzz on and then Snapchatting the results,” Sandy smirked.

  “That was one time.” Michelle laughed. “And my Instagram followers still haven’t forgiven me for the visual assault.”

  “So, Brandy, is he still in Arcata?” Cat asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “How could you not know that?” Evelyn asked.

  “Well, because we’re broken up,” I said irritably. “He’s not exactly updating me with his whereabouts when he texts.”

  “Hold up, hold up, hold up,” Michelle said. “He’s been texting you?”

  “That is kind of shocking, Brandy,” Cat confirmed.

  “Holy guacamole, why have we been talking about anything else?” Sandy put in. “What do they say?”

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled back though our text chain. “Let’s see. ‘I’m not giving up.’ ‘Just my daily checkin.’ Um… ‘I miss you.’ Stuff like that.”

  My voice grew increasingly miserable as I moved through the messages. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces, for the thousandth time that day.

  “Okay, Brandy. I hate to pile on, with Sandy already saying this—but I think it really might’ve been a bonehead move to let him go. You seem so miserable!” Michelle said.

  “See? People should listen to me,” Sandy proclaimed.

  I shook my head in frustration. “You guys don’t get it. He would’ve left anyway! It was only a matter of time. That’s who he is. He’s a wandering spirit. A rolling stone.”

  “Are you sure?” Cat asked. “People can change, you know. Maybe the way he feels about you changed him.”

  I buried my hands in my face. I couldn’
t answer. I didn’t want to break down. I took a trembling breath and pulled myself together, and sat up and smiled. It was fake, but it was a smile. “Okay, guys. I’m done talking about Clay. There’s nothing more to say, anyway.”

  “Thank God,” Sandy said cheerfully. “I’m so ready to move on to other topics.”

  “Well, gee, I’m so glad I could be of service. So sorry my heartache got in the way of your good time.” There was that “sarcasm in the face of conflict” thing again.

  She rolled her eyes. “Damn, Bran. I don’t mind you discussing your heartache. Hell, I’ll get you drunk and talk about it with you all night long. I just can’t take how much you blame me for your heartache. That’s what I’m ready to move on from.”

  “I never said I blame you!”

  “Well,” she conceded, “maybe blame is a strong term. But in your mind, I definitely had something to do with it.”

  The other girls in the room looked back and forth between us as we spoke in turn, as if they were watching a tennis tournament in which Sandy and I were lobbing resentment back and forth instead of a little green ball.

  I paused. Telling her she was right and giving up the higher ground wasn’t something that was easy for me to do, instinctively, but I couldn’t deny that her assessment was right on the money. I let my shoulders slump.

  “I was kind of thinking that, actually,” I admitted reluctantly.

  “No shit, Sherlock. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. You’ve been giving me those baleful ‘you’ll never understand all the sacrifices I’ve made for you’ eyes all night. Look, Bran. It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me all our lives. I do. You were my mother, basically. If society issued work permits to eight-year-olds so we could’ve replaced Mom’s paychecks, occasional as they were, we would’ve been better off living on our own with you in charge. And I’m grateful. I am.

  “But, Mama Bird, it’s now time for you to do what nature tells all mothers do at one point or another.”