by MK Schiller
I didn’t get out of the way this time, Texas!
Anna tucked the blanket around me. “You’re still coming off the meds. Don’t move too much.”
“Okay, Anna Banana.”
She smiled, tousling my hair. “Dad’s here, too.”
“Really?”
“Of course, he’s worried sick. We flew down as soon as Rose called us.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Only two days.”
I lifted my shoulders, working through the pain. “Did I miss her funeral?”
“Lay back.”
“Answer my question.”
“It’s tomorrow.” She leaned in close to me. “What happened? You’ve been gone for less than a week. From what I can work out, you fell in love, fought a man with a gun, and stopped drinking.”
“It’s a long story. One that would take two lifetimes to tell.”
“Just tell me this.” Her lower lip trembled. “Did you try to kill yourself?”
“No,” I said to reassure her.
She took a deep breath. “I saw her photo. She was beautiful.”
My heart ached at the tense Anna used. “I loved her. Do you believe me?”
“Was she the one in your dreams?”
“Yes.”
“Then I believe you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Against everyone’s objections, I’d signed myself out of the hospital, not wanting to spend a second longer there.
I also needed to be at Scarlett’s burial. I didn’t want her to be alone when they put her in the ground. Aunt Rose found a suit for me. Anna made sure I dressed and shaved.
It rained the day of her funeral. A girl so lovely that even the sky mourned her. She wouldn’t have wanted this. She would have wanted her ashes thrown in the sea like Tommy. But these things were rarely decided by the deceased.
Anna watched me closely, the way cars slow down to look at accidents. She wanted to confirm how hurt I really was. If I might explode. How long I would keep up the calm façade. If I was drinking.
She and Dad wanted to check me into a mental hospital, but I refused. The police had questioned me at length until they were satisfied with the few answers I could give. They labeled it a lover’s spat on the news.
Idiots.
Everything in me became numb, except my heart. It beat inside my chest, but its rhythm was off, like a watch that ran a few ticks too slow.
This was someone’s idea of a cruel joke…one without a punchline.
I turned to my sister and did my best to form a smile, but the muscles did not seem to work that way anymore. I adjusted my tie and stared at the casket being lowered into the ground. Scarlett loved me in a tie.
Anna stood on one side of me and my father the other. He’d tried to talk to me several times, but I’d cut him off. But he refused to leave, saying he wanted to stay and see me through this. We had a lot to unpack, he and I, but I didn’t have the bandwidth to unzip that suitcase.
Aunt Rose was there, too, looking smaller than I remembered. I guess grief could do that…grind up a person inside and out until they were an empty shell. A turtle with no home.
I looked around at all of Scarlett’s friends and family. Some I had met, some I recognized from her going away party that felt like an eternity ago, but there were others I didn’t know. Our mutual grief connected us, the force of it tangible, making it clear my angel had touched many lives.
Everyone held large black golf umbrellas, except me and Russ. Maybe he wanted to feel the rain on his skin like I did. I needed to feel something. Unlike me, he cried. I couldn’t do it. There was something violent inside my soul. I was afraid if I showed any emotion, a levee might split open and everything inside of me would pour out.
No one blamed me for what happened, but I was the catalyst, nonetheless. Vance was right. I’d killed her in my own way. He’d never have shot her if we hadn’t been struggling with the gun. She’d never have run if I hadn’t scared her.
The pastor said some nice things. But they sounded hollow to me. What could you say about a girl who died before her time? One who was dealt such a cruel hand? She loved music and dancing and peppery sausage gravy on Sundays? She cared about people, even when they didn’t deserve it. She had more darkness in her life than anyone deserved, but she never lost her smile? That’s what I would have said if I was capable of talking.
“Can you and Dad take Aunt Rose home?” I asked Anna after the service.
“What about you?” Anna asked.
“I’d like to stay. I need to say good-bye.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her eyes shifted down toward the pocket of my suit jacket.
I patted it, trying to show her it was empty. There wasn’t a pint in there, not that it meant much in the long run. Don’t think I hadn’t memorized the way to the three places that sold liquor on this damn island.
I turned to my dad, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet, as if he wasn’t sure where he fit in. Funny, the man bought and sold buildings, his business was a real-life game of Monopoly, but here, he let Anna take the lead.
“Do this for me, Dad.”
I wasn’t sure if he saw how much I needed this or if he simply wanted to do something for me. But my appeal worked. He placed a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “Let’s leave, Anna. Jason will be fine.”
“But Dad, he’s still ill and—”
“Everyone needs to grieve in their own way. Let him have this.”
Dad gave me an awkward hug. Keith shook my hand. Anna told me to call her when I was done. Bob gave me a bear hug so hard I couldn’t breathe.
“She was my friend,” he said. “I wish he made more like her.” Bob jerked his thumb toward the sky.
“She was a once in a lifetime,” I agreed, shaking my head at the irony.
“Come along, Bobby,” Aunt Rose said, taking his arm.
Aunt Rose kissed me on the cheek, the scent of citrus lingering after she pulled away. She looked at the grave once. When she turned back, there were fresh tears in her eyes.
She patted my chest. “You didn’t have each other long, but you did have each other. You made her happy. Remember that.”
“Thanks,” I said.
At least no one had said something stupid like she was in a better place. A better place would be next to me. After everyone left, I bent over the plot of fresh earth, which would now be her home. The rain finally slowed to a constant mist.
Russell stayed, too. We were silent for a long time. Him standing, stoic and quiet. Me, on my knees, staring at her headstone. How can a piece of stone with some etched words represent a life? Especially one as good and beautiful as hers. Russ approached and gripped my shoulder.
I spoke first, leaning my forehead into my palm. “I’m so sorry, Russell.”
“You blame yourself.” His voice had no inflection. It had no flavor at all as if he’d lost all feeling.
I nodded. “I couldn’t save her.”
“I blame myself, too.”
I stood and turned to him. “Why?”
“Because when Vance was released from the hospital, I took him to get his truck. He was going to follow me to a treatment facility, but he ditched me and went to the island instead. The ferry operator was new and let him on. Do you understand?”
“No.”
He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. “It might have been me or you or the fucking ferry operator or all of us. But in the end, it was Vance who…” He tugged at the knot on his tie as if it was choking him. “He did that.”
“Yeah, but if I hadn’t come here, she’d be in Nashville right now.”
“No one can predict the future.”
No, but I had a better chance than most. He held out his hand for me to grip. I shook it firmly.
“I think you’re a good man, Jason.”
“I know you’re a good man, Russell. We were friends once.”
“We’re friends now.”
> “I mean we were best friends. Like brothers almost. You, Tommy, and me. We grew up together.”
He shook his head, taking a step back. I needed him to believe me. I was desperate for someone to know my truth. I threw my jacket on the wet earth.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Just wait. I’m going to prove it to you.” I ripped the buttons on my cuff, my hand shaking too badly to undo them. He stared at me, slack jawed, as I pushed the sleeve on my shirt up, exposing the black band of ink around my left arm.
“You have this, too, don’t you?” He didn’t answer except to take another step back. “Answer me.”
“Yeah. We have the same tat. So fucking what?”
“I know why you got it. In another life, we got them at the same time…right after…right after Tommy died. It was our permanent band of mourning for the brother we lost. The friend we could not save.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I am. God, Foster, don’t you remember me?” I looked over at the gravesite covered with every single flower imaginable. “The three of us all loved her. Not like I did…well, maybe you loved her the same way, but you always respected that she chose me. Tommy treated her like a little sister.” I laughed, recalling a memory or a dream. I took a step closer.
“She used to be so bossy. We’d call her Miss Scarlett like in Gone with the Wind. She made us go to the beach and help the turtles cross so they could start their lost year safely. We pretended she annoyed us when we were kids. But when a bully picked on her, the three of us were there. We always had her back.”
I choked on burning lump lodged in my throat. I had to finish telling him all the things I needed to say. “And sometimes we were the bullies and we took things too far. She always forgave us though no matter what foolish-ass thing we did or said.” Russell’s eyes darted around like he was searching for an exit. He moved past me, but I blocked him, almost slipping on the wet grass. “Wait! Just fucking wait. You remember our big secret?”
“What secret?”
“We beat up her mom’s boyfriend when we figured out, he…he…” I could not finish the sentence.
“Shut the fuck up, Flynn.”
I shook my head. “I won’t. I can’t. It was a fucked-up situation. We never talked about it afterward. I have to make you remember. We were only thirteen and complete dumbasses, but we knew something was wrong her. She never told you and me, but Tommy figured it out.”
I clutched his shirt. “She was dying inside. We couldn’t watch her die. Can you fucking believe three scrawny island kids kicked the shit out of a grown-ass man? We sent him a very clear message that he was not welcome on our island or anywhere near her. He never came back, either, but we never figured her mom would choose him. She abandoned our girl for that…” I spat on the ground, not able to form the words.
My throat hurt, but I kept going, fighting the emotional damn threatening to explode inside of me. “But Scarlett was stronger than any of us gave her credit for. God, Russ, we loved her so much. She was there for us, too. As much as one friend can be for another. Damn you, Foster, please tell me you remember.”
A flicker of understanding or recognition for one of those stories spread through his face. It disappeared just as suddenly. “Did they put you on some voodoo medication in the hospital, man? I’d appreciate it if you fucking derail the crazy train and cut this shit out. Some of that stuff happened, but you sure as hell weren’t there.”
“Not this time, but I was once.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve lost my two best friends in less than a year. And I don’t think I can take much more. I’m gonna let it pass, though, because I think you did love her. Maybe when you drowned yourself, you caused some severe brain damage, so I’m going to shake your hand once more and let it go.”
He shook my hand, but I pulled him in for a hug. He stiffened but didn’t pull away. His shoulders quaked. We cried together…for our girl.
“Russ, you taught her to play the fiddle and guitar. Tommy showed her how to swim and surf. I tutored her in quadratic equations and made sure she didn’t fall behind in school. But that was nothing compared to the lessons she gave us. She taught us to be better men.”
Russell choked a sob. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit me or hug me again. “I swear I really don’t want to kick your ass in front of Scarlett’s grave. She would haunt me for it. I don’t have a fucking clue how you know what you do because Scar didn’t even know about all of it. But I’m begging you to please shut up before they bring you a custom-size suit with connecting arms.”
“Russ.”
“But I will give you this because it’s been bugging the hell out of me. As soon as you threw that football to me in the diner, I pictured the number four. You have any idea why?”
So many fours in our life. Four freckles across the bridge of her nose that I’d kissed so many times I could do it in the dark. Scarlett gave Vance four years of her life. I had four real days with her. The hospital told me I was declared dead for four solid minutes. But none of those things were the answer Foster sought.
I jabbed my thumb against my chest. “I was number four. It was my uniform number. I was the quarterback. You were my left tackle. Tommy was my right. She was always in the stands holding up a sign. Three signs….one for each of us. We were the four best friends in the whole fucking world before everything turned to shit.”
He jabbed his thumb against his chest, shaking his head. “I was the quarterback.” He took a few steps before turning around one last time. He swallowed. His sorrowful stare too heavy to shoulder. I saw sympathy in his eyes. “She once told me that her plan was to end up in New York, but she didn’t have the money yet. Nashville was a halfway point of sorts. Did you know that?”
I shook my head, grateful for the information, latching onto it as a brief reprieve from the grief. Was she looking for me, too?
“Did she say why?”
“Not really. Only that she was drawn to New York, but she could never explain it to me. She didn’t seem to like big cities, but she wanted to go there. I didn’t get it. I don’t think she did, either.”
“Thanks, bro.”
Maybe all our dreams were really nightmares, Texas. Our stars, bright and bursting with energy, always longed to stand in the other’s light, but they were crossed no matter what direction we took.
“I think this has really messed with your head or maybe it’s messing with mine,” Russell yelled, looking back one final time. “Get some help, Flynn. Do it for her.”
I watched him leave. Then I turned back to her grave.
I fell to my knees before her. My journey had ended.
“You believed me, didn’t you, Texas? Even before we both died—you forever and me for only four minutes. I made you see why we belong to each other. It’s why you ran back. It’s why you remembered how much you loved me. Angel, I love you, too. And I promise, I will never stop loving you.”
It didn’t matter, though.
I had failed.
I had failed her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I didn’t go home. I walked or maybe dragged myself on the two-mile journey to Scarlett’s house. The rain didn’t let up, but it didn’t bother me, either.
Her mother answered the door, her mouth gaping at my appearance. The woman shared the same red hair and blue eyes as Scarlett, but the resemblance ended there.
Her red lips formed a perfect circle as she took me in. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here for the cat. May I have him, please?”
She blinked; recognition flickered in her features. She opened the door, gesturing me inside. “Jason, right?”
“Yes,” I said, looking around for Septimus. My clothes dripped onto the shag carpet and my footprints left deep impressions. I didn’t care. Scarlett loved that cat, and that meant he was mine to protect.
“This is my boyfriend, Frank,” she said.
I had
n’t seen him at the funeral, but then again, I couldn’t see further than my own grief. Good thing too since I probably would have found a shallow grave to drag him into. I’d bury that fucker alive.
My fists clenched. Rage covered the sorrow for just a moment. I had to get this over with fast. I liked the rage too much. I welcomed it.
He was tall with a paunch belly and had a long beard with strands of white running through the brown. My God…he looked like Santa.
Oh, Scarlett.
She’d once told me her nightmares were about monsters and villains and axe murderers and Santa. I’d promised to protect her. Was that in this lifetime or another? I couldn’t remember.
Her mother handed me the cat carrier. She started loading up cat toys, and food, in a plastic bag.
“You don’t have to do that. I can go shopping.”
She waved her hand. “It’s not as if I can use it. I suppose this is good. I’m not exactly an animal person, but I was planning to find a good home for him. How did you know I wasn’t keeping him?”
Because I know you.
I just shrugged in response. “Guessed.”
“I never approved of Scarlett keeping him, but she could be stubborn about things. She always wanted to take care of everyone.”
“I know.” It was the best I could muster. I didn’t want to give this woman anything more. I wasn’t here to commiserate or comfort her.
“Please thank your father for me once more.”
“My father? What for?”
She arched her brow. “He paid for the funeral. He didn’t tell you?”
“No.” I would have been surprised, maybe even pleased by this, but the misery and rage kept any other emotions buried so deep I doubted they would ever resurface.
“Well, please thank him for me. Because of his generosity, we were able to have a lovely service.”
“I will.”
She wiped away a fallen tear. Lady, I hope the tear is one of regret for all the times my girl waited for your affection only for you to disappoint her every single time.
She composed a smile, but it seemed rehearsed. “She told me about you. We spent the whole day together that day she was supposed to leave for Nashville. I’m so glad I had that day.”
