“Not exactly. I’m not used to talking about myself.”
“With such an extraordinary child, I can see how you only spend time discussing Matilda. However, you matter too. When was the last time you went out on a date?”
“I can’t remember, but I have my daughter to think about first.”
“Do you and Matilda go out often?”
“I’m too busy.” And maybe this is why my child felt like she needed to reach out and ask for someone’s help. Not that I approve of her method. Who emails an influencer? I swear that kid is dead.
“Listen, it might sound as if I don’t know what I’m doing, but I do. It was complicated at the beginning after Matilda’s—” I take a moment to get a hold of my emotions and swallow the knot clogging my throat.
“After Matilda’s dad died, things were difficult. It took me a little time to start again. But I got a handle on this, and I’ll continue riding the wave until it’s over, and then I’ll jump onto the next one. Isn’t that how life goes?”
There’s a long silence. Then, she says, “Are you doing something nice for yourself every day?”
I touch my hair. This counts as nice, doesn’t it? “I’m trying, but there are times when it’s almost impossible. The days only have twenty-four hours.”
“You’re right, and I also understand how some jobs don’t pay well enough, so you need to complement your income. As I told Matilda multiple times, I admire you. You’re raising a brilliant child while trying to make ends meet and getting an education. But what if there were people out here trying to give you a hand? We want to do something for you.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Of course.”
“Can you not air this?”
“Not at all? We could edit it or do another interview. Many listeners would love to hear from you.”
Many listeners? I hold my midriff, wondering what that means.
“Not for now. I have to think about it. This is unexpected. I never thought that Matilda would call someone and ask for help so I can get a husband or for her to get a dad.”
“Maybe she wants a family?”
She has one. It’s the two of us against the world. We don’t need anyone else. Why would I want to add someone who, in the long run, might leave us? I can’t put my child through the loss of another person. Not again.
“Or maybe she feels like you need someone to lean on?”
“I’m okay. We’re fine with the way things are.” My voice comes out a little too harsh.
“Do you think there’s somebody out there who you could love the way you loved your husband?”
“I…” I’m not sure how to answer.
Chapter Eight
Zach
I hold my breath as I wait for Autumn’s answer.
Persy is the one who ends the long pause. “You might not believe it now, but one day you’ll meet someone.”
“Why would I want to meet anyone, for that matter? You know what they say, lightning never strikes the same place twice. It’s the same with love.”
Persy turns to look at Ford, who shrugs. I wish I knew what that meant. I hate when people just glance at each other and have an entire conversation. I have that with my brother, of course. It’s a twin thing, but when couples do it, it’s weird. I never had it with Callie. There are so many things that Callie and I never shared. Guilt strikes me again. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough, or I was too busy working to pay attention to her.
Callie said it several times. Work and my family absorbed all my time. I barely paid attention to her.
“You’re so young,” Persy continues. “What if there’s another person out there for you? Someone who will take away your heart and say, ‘you’re safe with me. Let me love you and grow old with you.’ You’ll know you can trust him not only with your heart but with your extraordinary kid.”
There’s another long pause, and I hang by the silence. By the words being said.
Is it even possible to love someone again?
“What was your husband’s name?”
“Paxton…we never married. We were young. Too young when we found out about Matilda. We decided to tie the knot after she was born, or maybe when she was walking so she could walk him down the aisle. It wasn’t important. What mattered to us was that we were starting a family, and we loved our baby. I see a lot of him in Matilda, though my family swears she’s just like me.”
I remember Paxton. Paxton Blackthorne. He was a junior when I was a senior in high school. I had no idea he and Autumn dated. The kid was okay—as okay as a Blackthorne can be.
“I bet she has the best of both of you. She might have the best traits of him, and that’s why she reminds you of him and maybe why you don’t miss him as much.”
“I still miss him,” Autumn whispers. “He had a way to make everything magical. It didn’t matter how bad things were. He reminded me that it was just a bad moment, not a bad life. That the next day, things would look different.”
“He gave me…”
And when she says it, I whisper it, “Hope.”
Like a bright light, I see it, the hope. The one I’ve been searching for the past couple of years—the light within the darkness. The fog of mindless despair that numbed me when Callie died begins to dissipate.
“Sounds like you two had something special,” Persy says.
“I want to think it was, or maybe it wasn’t, and I’m just holding on to an illusion.” Autumn’s voice is losing its strength. “At this point, I don’t know if my memories of him were real or fantasies of a girl who had to deal with a lot since she was sixteen. Do I want to…?”
She chokes, or maybe she’s sobbing. I’m not sure what’s happening, and I wish I could get to her so I can protect her from the memories.
“I think there’s a lot I have to think about after this conversation. I don’t know if I want you to air this,” she says.
“We’ll send you the release form, and you can sign it at your leisure, Autumn. The last thing I want is to make you feel uncomfortable. Though, I want you to know that if you ever need to talk to someone, I’m here.”
She laughs. “Sure, I’ll willingly call you to tell you how much life sucks and how hard it is to keep afloat.”
“I meant off the record.”
After a long pause, Autumn finally speaks, “Thank you.”
When Persy takes off her earpieces, I finally say, “Wow. You know, I’ve been listening to you for years, but I never paid attention to your show until now.”
She arches an eyebrow. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I tune in every week either at home, work, or…when I drop by. The point is that I never listened closely to them—to you. I get what you’re doing.”
Her eyebrows knit together as she stares at me.
“You’re using your mad counseling skills on her and anyone who dares to call you,” I state.
“I’m what?”
“You were shrinking her,” I insist. “You went from your child emailing to trying to get her to talk about her dead husband. I don’t know how to feel. I mean, maybe you helped her, but you made her feel uncomfortable.”
“I was trying to help.”
“Sure, but at what cost? You made her vulnerable in front of all your listeners. Why would you do that?”
She narrows her gaze, studying me. “Don’t get me wrong, but why are you here?”
“I came to visit,” I say casually.
Her suspicious glare tells me she doesn’t believe me. At this point, I don’t care much about it. I don’t like what she did with Autumn. No one is on the other end of the line ready to hug her and make her feel better after she had to bare her feelings to a stranger. I want to jump on a plane and search for Autumn. I’d take her into my arms and tell her that everything would be fine. I want to soothe her soul because she’s missing her other half.
If I could tell her just one thing, it’d be that no matter ho
w many times the world falls apart, it always falls back together. I’d give her the hope her voice and words just gave me.
I have no idea what I’m going to do with it, but the energy will be enough to continue for a few more beats or years.
“You came to visit?” Persy repeats, chewing on her lip. “Why?”
I’m here for Autumn, but I shouldn’t even think about her. I can’t explain it. There aren’t any answers. What the fuck am I doing here? Her question is like a punch to the gut. The fucking guilt is back like a heavy weight on my shoulders. Thick, polluted air filling my lungs and not allowing me to breathe.
Chapter Nine
Zach
“No offense but you don’t visit us this often, and you happened to be here when you knew I’d be calling Autumn.” She sounds so suspicious I want to get the fuck out of here.
“What are you talking about?” I try to play innocent.
She fucking caught me. How?
“You’re intrigued by Matilda’s calls, aren’t you? Last week’s visit wasn’t a coincidence either.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“They live in Seattle,” she says. “You know them. Well, you know Autumn and her brother—”
“It’s not a crime to know some of your listeners. Teddy is a fan. Should I give you a list of the people I know who listen to you?” I don’t mean to interrupt her mid-sentence, but I have to be proactive. The next thing I know, she’s going to drag her sister into this conversation.
Two years. We’ve known each other for two years, and she’s never said, Hey, so you should get over Callie. I want it to stay that way.
She crosses her arms and leans forward. “Okay, let’s stop playing around. What’s the plan?”
“Plan?” I ask, confused. I glance at Ford, who doesn’t say anything. What happened to brotherhood and being there for each other? He’s leaving me to the lion. She’s going to devour me and throw my body into the ocean.
“You have a plan. For the past couple of years, you’ve been on this kick to save every person you encounter and more. You know Autumn. I bet you already know how you’re going to come to her aid.”
“Persy,” Ford says with a warning voice.
I glance at Ford, who is glaring at her and shaking his head.
“Why does this feel like an intervention?”
“It’s not, or you’d have Nyx and Livy here too,” Ford says. “My wife is a little nosey.”
“I think what you do is extraordinary. You use your fortune to help people,” Persy says.
“But?”
“There’s no but. I just want to know how you plan to help Autumn and Matilda.”
I stare at her suspiciously. “Why do I have the feeling there’s some ulterior motive or a hidden agenda behind this?”
She shakes her head. “You’re overthinking everything. I just want to know the plan so I can help you.”
I eye Ford, who shrugs.
“Maybe I can offer her a job at the coffee shop or pay for a babysitter while she takes that long bath,” I offer. “I don’t know yet, okay? It’s weird to just drop back into her life and say, ‘here’s a hand, hold onto it so I can get you out of that hole.’”
“It sounds like she could use a friend. Instead of listening to my podcast, go and see her.”
I laugh. “So, I just show up and say, ‘’sup can I babysit your kid?’ That wouldn’t be creepy at all.”
“You don’t have to be sarcastic.” She stands up and walks toward me with her laptop in hand. She opens a folder called Matilda that has more than twenty thousand emails.
“What are those?”
“Emails from listeners who want to learn more about Matilda and how they can help her mom.”
A new email pops in.
From: Stella McEntire
To: Life with Persy
Subject: Matchmaking
I think Autumn is perfect for my brother. We should set them up.
Stella
“Why are you scowling at the screen?” Persy asks.
I don’t like the attention this is getting. Autumn would hate it. I remember when they took her dad to jail. The next day, Mrs. Wickerton sent Aiden and Autumn to school as if nothing had happened. She didn’t care if there was an angry mob waiting for her children. Mr. Wickerton stole from some families. They blamed Aiden and Autumn.
Burke, Seth, Archer, and I took charge of the situation. Arch and Seth tried to control the angry mob while Burke and I drove them to my house. Seth’s parents helped them move to Silver Lake to one of Mom’s properties.
My parents were upset with Mr. Wickerton, but they were supportive of their family. It wasn’t their fault that his father and business partners were thieves. I recall Autumn’s fears. She hated that everyone hated her, but even more, she despised the pity.
“I know this is getting you listeners, but it’s her life, and you shouldn’t. You’re comfortable selling your life and your family but these people—”
“This isn’t about fun and getting listeners. My family is off-limits. Do I mention my grump and the kids? Yes, but no one knows them, and no one will ever know that I’m married to Ford or see the faces of my children. I do this to help. Matilda stole my heart. You’re talking about a six-year-old kid who is focused on making her mother happy. She’s my hero. I’m not airing Autumn’s interview unless she agrees to it, and I’d never dare to force the situation. I’m going to have Nyx look into the signed releases from Matilda’s uncle. It might be a fun gesture from him, but it might not be one-hundred-percent legal.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like…”
“Callie?”
I nod.
“Since you’re already pissed at me, let’s go there. I love my sister. I’ll never stop loving her, even when she’s been gone for years, even when she hated me. I love her. Nothing will replace her memory. I understand she’s your wife and that—”
“Please don’t go there,” I plead because I don’t want to confront my truth.
“It kills me to see you half living.”
“You’re right, and maybe I should start by moving on and stopping the unhealthy relationship I have with her family.” I don’t say another word and leave the house.
Before I get into the rental car, I spot Ford. “That was too fucking dramatic.”
“She has no right to tell me how to live,” I argue.
“She’s worried about you. We’re concerned. I understand if you don’t want to come back, but you’re part of the family.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Everyone is fucking worried about me, but there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m dealing with it and handling everything one day at a time.”
“It’s okay to take a Brassard break. They can be a handful.”
“If I take a break from everyone who wants me to move on, then I’d have to avoid my family too.”
“You do avoid them.” Ford chuckles. “Hence why you’re here a lot. We like that you come often. As I said, you’re a part of this rowdy, noisy family, but the ladies are concerned about you.”
“I’m okay,” I assure him.
“I want to believe you, but you seem like you’re having trouble keeping your shit together. Something is eating you alive. I can’t understand what you’re going through. It’s impossible to think what I’d do without Persy. She’s the love of my life. All I can say is that you’re here, and you might as well try to live the best life you can.”
The guilt takes hold of me again. A pair of hands choking me, trying to kill me because I don’t deserve to be here.
“I don’t even know if Callie was the love of my life.” The words come out of my mouth before I can register them. I close my eyes and cover my mouth for a second.
“It’s okay,” Ford says.
I open my eyes and shake my head. “It’s not okay. By the end, we were almost abusive with each other. We fought a lot. Everything was a fucking problem. She couldn’t
stand my family. She hated the idea of Burke. We harbored secrets from her. She felt like an outsider because my brother and I had our own language.
“Our last fight was due to Archer’s celebration of life. His fiancée and Teddy organized the annual party to celebrate him. It was the fifth anniversary of his disappearance. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to celebrate our sixth month anniversary in fucking France.”
I scrub my face with both hands. “I called her a spoiled brat. I was supposed to drive her, but she picked up her shit and left saying, ‘I hate you, and I might never come back. If something happens to your—’” I pause because what’s the point of saying that out loud?
“‘I hate you’ were her last words.” I tap my head with the tips of my fingers then toss my hands up in the air. “Every night, I wonder if it’s my fault that she got on that bus. If I had done things differently or…”
“You didn’t kill her,” he says.
“It feels like I threw her under the bus.” I shake my head. “I never told anyone what happened before she died.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he assures me.
“Wasn’t it?”
“It. Wasn’t.”
My head drops along with my shoulders. After taking a couple of cleansing breaths, I straighten my spine and look at him. “Why does it feel like I did it? You should beat the shit out of me for killing your sister-in-law. I brought nothing but sorrow into this family.”
“As I said, I can’t pretend to understand that I know what you’re feeling. You didn’t bring sorrow to the family. I never met Callie, but I watched her being a bitch to my wife and her family. She wasn’t a nice person. I’m going to stop talking shit about her because she’s gone.” He points at his house. “My wife loves you like the little brother she didn’t have. You should reach out to her and ask for help. I bet she knows someone as kick-ass as her who might help you get through your grief. You have to let yourself grieve, or the pain will eat you alive.”
Until Next Time Page 6
