by Brynn Hale
“I’m…fine. You’re here early.” He leans against the doorway. “Have you seen my mom?” I hear the questioning in his voice.
“I think she’s in her bedroom.”
“Were you in her bedroom?”
“I fixed the toilet, so yes, I was in the bathroom.”
“It’s interesting that your truck is in exactly the same place as last night when I came home to grab clothes.”
I should’ve just manually opened the garage door and driven my car. It’s time to have a little discussion with the man of the house.
“You wanna go get donuts with me?”
“Only if they’re Jack’s Donut Shack donuts.”
“Oh, dude, Donut Hut is so much better.”
“Not a chance.”
I stand. “Guess we’ll just have to get both and have a taste-off.”
“Bring it.” His cocky teenager face reminds me a lot of myself.
I text Harlow as we’re out the door. We climb into my truck. I drive to Jack’s Donut Shack first, getting a dozen variety through the drive-thru.
“Make sure you get French crullers. They’re mom’s favorite.”
“She like coffee?”
“Yeah.”
“You?”
“No.”
I add the two donuts and two coffees.
“But no jelly donuts!” I demand at the very end, almost forgetting my number one donut rule.
“I hate jelly donuts, too,” Roan agrees.
“It’s stuffed with fruit goop.”
“Precisely. No one in our family likes them.”
At Donut Hut, I get similar donut choices and three French crullers.
“Hey, not fair. You’re trying to bribe her!” Roan laughs.
I don’t disagree.
I start back to the house. “Roan, I know you’re the man of your family now and I’d like to ask for your permission to date Harlow.”
Roan looks out the passenger window. “I want my mom to be happy. I really do. She faked her happiness for so long after dad died. She didn’t think we could tell, but she wasn’t herself. It’s just…it’s just that we’ve started to be a family again, just the three of us. I don’t know if I can see someone else fitting in.”
It’s hard to accept, but if it’s the way it has to be, I’ll walk away. But…I tell Roan about being adopted and how hard it was to fit into a family, so I understand.
I turn onto their street. “I understand it takes time to be accepted into a family that’s broken and hurting. I know it’ll take time, patience, and I won’t ever expect that you’ll accept me, I’ll earn your acceptance.”
I park in front of their house and turn off the truck.
Roan’s eyes gloss with tears and I know how hard it is for him to show these emotions. I’ve been there.
“Roan, I’ll leave your mom alone and get someone else to do the installation. It’s okay. I understand.” If I have to, I will walk away. I don’t want to, but I won’t break a family and mess with what Harlow has with her kids.
Roan uses the back of his hands to clear away the tears. “No. I want her to be happy and yesterday when I came home for lunch, she was in her office for the first time in forever, and all I could hear was her talking to her characters. It’s been forever since she’s done that. Now granted what she was saying was a little gross. But still, if she’s writing again, and I think I know what’s different…you…then maybe we should keep you around to see where this goes.”
My stomach calms.
“I promise, I won’t hurt her, Roan. I will do anything to make sure your mom’s happy.” I clear my throat. “And speaking of happy…I know you took my stack of Playboys.”
He smiles, opening his door. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Just don’t let your mom see them!”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got them well hidden.”
He’s almost eighteen, he’ll be able to buy them for himself soon. And if she does find them, she and I will have a discussion.
“Some of those are classics.” They were from my college days in early 2000s. But now…now I have my own Playmate in the flesh. Not that I’ll tell him that.
“Old. They’re old, dude.”
“Grab a bag.”
He does and we walk into the house bantering about professional football.
Harlow’s in the kitchen, everything’s cleaned up from last night, her hair pulled up into a chaotic bundle on top of her head.
I don’t kiss her. Even if I want to. I don’t touch her. Even if I’m dying to. I want to tell her that my heart is hers. But it’s too quick. I’ll scare her away.
“Mom, Copper thinks that Donut Hut is better than Jack’s!”
Her dark eyes brighten. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that.”
I just wink and she winks back.
Eight
Harlow
We sit around the table and laugh and it’s easy and nice. I won’t tell Roan—Jack’s crullers are better. But with every second that my heart is falling for Copper, I realize how much I’m forgetting Corbin. How much I owe him for giving me two beautiful children, twenty-plus amazing years in his arms, and allowing me to know true love.
I like Copper, there’s no doubt about it. But I don’t want to have to forget Corbin to let him into my life.
Roan goes to Copper’s to take a shower and we’re alone.
I stand to take my cup to the sink. I find myself staring absentmindedly into the water as it runs cold.
Why isn’t it getting hot? Oh right.
Copper stands to my right. “Everything okay, Harlow?”
“We need to talk.”
He nods. “You talk, I’ll listen.”
He follows me into the family room, and I crawl onto the couch, pulling my legs under me. His arm lays along the back edge of the couch, but he doesn’t touch me. And I’m grateful for that.
“I want you to know what last night meant to me.”
“Okay, tell me…”
“For the last three years I’ve been living in a haze. I’d lost me.” I reach out and grab his hand. “But you brought me back. With your listening, your patience, and…” I smile and release a little giggle. “That fucking amazing cock of yours.”
He chuckles. “Glad to hear that our time means something to you.”
“But…I’m not sure I’m over Corbin. I don’t know if I’ll ever be over him, or if I want to be over him. I wish I could love you. I wish I could find a way to open my heart completely to you, but it will always be owned by Corbin.”
He leans forward. “I’ve never fell for someone as hard or as fast as I have you, Harlow Kincaid, but it has to be right for both of us. I know that.”
“I wish I could be different. I wish I could fall, but I can’t.”
He kisses my cheek and I clasp his face, pulling his lips to mine. My salty tears coat our lips.
“I’m sorry…”
He cups my chin, his long fingers holding me tenderly. “Don’t be. I’ll get someone else to do the install, but you have my number. If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you, Harlow.”
He stands and in seconds, the door closes. I sit in silence for a long time. Listening to my heart, waiting for it to say something.
I head to my office and start writing. Emotions pour from my fingers and onto the pages. By early evening, I’m looking at a finished manuscript. Every word filled with heart and soul.
Heart and Soul…
That’s the name of the series. Five books, all about finding love after loss.
I head upstairs to shower. I don’t care that it’s cold. I want to feel the pain. The water isn’t completely freezing, but it numbs me like I hoped. I wrap up in a towel and stand at the bottom of the bed, looking at the crumpled bedding. Remembering every moment of the night before.
I stare at the nightstand. Before Corbin left on tour the last time, he gave me a letter to open, if the worst happened.
>
I’ve never read it. I couldn’t. The fear of what it said, to hear his words again, I couldn’t imagine how that would break me.
I pull open the drawer and the white envelop sits alone. I lift it out and open it.
Taking a deep breath, I read:
My beautiful Harlow,
First, I love you. I loved you from that first dirty look you gave me over the fry basket. And since you’re reading this, I want you to know that I still love you.
Second, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m gone. I’m sorry you have to do all of this by yourself and I’m sorry I’m not there for you. I know you didn’t always understand why I was so devoted to my career, and sometimes I didn’t know why either, but to know that I made a difference and maybe made the world a safer place for you, Roan, and Arya, that’s all I was working for.
Lastly, cause I’m not the writer in the family and I’m going to keep this short. I want you to find someone who will love you even more than I did. And I loved you to the moon and back, baby. Make sure he can do shit around the house. Make sure he gives you whatever your heart desires. And most of all, make sure he loves you and the kids like I loved you. With all my heart and soul.
I gasp. He’s talking to me. Tears hold in the edges of my eyes.
Baby, you’re the best and I will see you again. Make sure he likes to play pool because I’m going to want to be his friend in heaven.
Now go write me a story and make it a good one.
Love you now and always,
Corbin
I sit back on my bed and hold the letter to my chest. “I hear you Corbin. I hear you.”
After getting dressed, I find my phone. I need to talk to someone. Not Copper. Not the kids.
Harlow: Can you come over here? I need to talk. I think I made a horrible mistake.
In seconds, my phone rings.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Let’s go out for a drink.” Jillyn sounds out of breath.
“No, just come over here.”
“Viv’s on call and I want to go out. Please…”
Either I do it her way or I sit her thinking about everything and getting nowhere closer to knowing what to do.
I stand up. “Fine. Where?”
“Graffiti Street Bar.”
“Ugh. Downtown.”
“Take a Lyft.”
“Okay, but I’m not interested in being hit on in that meat-market.”
“It’s not like that anymore, the new owner cleaned it up. Great craft cocktails and a good vibe.”
“Fine. Half an hour?”
“Yeah, that’ll work. I’m just finishing my fifth mile; I’ll shower and be there.”
Her dedication to her health and fitness as a personal trainer impresses me. I can only imagine how hot Copper would look if she was his personal trainer. Hell, he could probably teach her some things. I tried going to her once. And only once. She’s nice as a person, mean as a trainer. If I want someone to get in my face about five more of something, I’ll be at an ice cream shop picking out flavors.
I order the car pickup and in fifteen minutes I’m sitting on a couch in a dim lit corner of the Graffiti Street Bar. They have one of those jukeboxes where you can order a song, so I fill it up with my favorites, some slower and some faster.
“Remember the Name” by Fort Minor—one of Corbin’s favorites. “Downboys” by Warrant—I’m a hairband junkie. And “When I See You Smile” by Bad English—it reminds me that I can smile and what has recently made me smile. I add a couple more songs and call it good enough. I don’t plan on being here longer than an hour.
Jill beelines to me. “What’s up?”
“I think…I think I made a big mistake.”
Nine
Copper
That wasn’t how The Rebellion was supposed to go. I wasn’t supposed to be the one to get shit on.
I let myself become attached. I fell for Harlow Kincaid. She might have questions, but I wasn’t done, yet. I wanted to give her some time and maybe she would find a space for me in her heart. I swore I already touched her soul. What we did last night wasn’t a casual one-night stand fuck. It was making love. I knew the difference.
I sit at home, mindlessly watching golf on TV. Something to numb my brain. I lift my phone when it buzzes.
“Hey, Cray, what’s up?”
“Copper, we have a problem.”
I stand up. “What’s wrong?”
“Leif. He’s gone off the deep end. I need some help, bro.” My phone buzzed with a picture. I look at the line of shots on a bar top.
“Shit. Is he considering doing that?” I ask.
“I think so. He sent me the picture.”
“Okay, you want me to call Hemi?” I’m at the garage door, I release the door from the overhead chain and in one quick lift, it’s up and out of the way.
“Already tried. No answer.”
I get into my BMW 5 Series and pull out, parking in the driveway to close the door.
“Okay, where are you?”
“Outside of Evo Room, getting ready to go in.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I tear out of the driveway and I’m shifting gears like I’m a professional racer. It’s only about ten minutes away, but Cray never sounds panicked. He’s ex-military. He’s Mr.-I-Don’t-Give-A-Shit. If he’s involved and worried… it’s bad.
I park, pay the meter on my phone, and I pull open the door to the Evo Room.
I see them at the bar. The place is clean. Like sterile and bleach coated. It’s not my kind of place, but I know why Leif was here. It’s not our normal kind of place.
Please don’t let him have drank anything.
I approach and see the five shots of various colors of alcohols lined up in front of him, just like in the picture.
“Hey, Cray. Leif.” I grab his shoulder, but he doesn’t look back.
I mouth to Cray. Has he?
He shakes his head. Mouthing, no.
That’s a relief, but the fact that he wants to, that’s a problem. Leif’s two years sober. Two years of making the commitment to being drug and alcohol free. It’s a major win, but he’s on an edge.
I pull out the bar stool next to him.
The bartender catches my eye, but I shake him off.
“Leif, what’s going on?” I ask.
“I’m tired.”
“What are you tired of?”
“Doing the wrong thing.”
“We all do wrong, Leif. That’s part of being human.”
“I’m just tired of feeling like I’m a step away from being a disaster. Dillon deserves more.” Dillion being his young son, I think eight or nine.
“You texted Cray. You did the right thing.”
Cray looks at me like he’s questioning that statement.
Leif stares at the shots. “I don’t want to drink these, but I don’t not want to drink them.”
I pick up the bronze AA token in front of him. “Leif, you earned this. If you drink that this is nothing more than a piece of metal. Right now, it’s more. It’s a promise to Dillon. It’s a promise to me and the guys. It’s a promise to yourself. If you’re going to drink, I’m going to be here for you, but I hope you understand the power you have inside of you not to do it.”
Leif pushes back. He reaches for a shot glass and my stomach clenches. “Just kidding. Let’s go to Graffiti Street.”
It’s safe there. Leif doesn’t feel the pressure or opportunity. He knows they won’t serve him and that’s why he came here. Opportunity. The pressure is inside of him.
Cray and Leif are already half a block away by the time I’m out the door. I run to catch up with them. Cray wanting to get him out of there. It made him uncomfortable, too.
Maybe this is what I needed tonight. To be with my guys.
I look up and see a billboard for Donut Hut. My feet shuffle to a stop. Roan was right, their donuts were good. But I’d swear that Harlow liked the French crullers from Jack’s more.
I’d have to call in another plumber on Monday to do the installation. Part of me still wanted to complete the job and show her that we could still be friends.
You’ll never be able to be just friends.
You love her too much.
Ten
Harlow
I’ve told her about Copper and I’ve let Jill read the letter from Corbin. She’s crying by the time she reaches his name. She grabs for a napkin on the coffee table.
“He could be so annoying,” she says on a chuckle while wiping her eyes. “So, what do you want to do?”
I don’t know so I don’t answer her. “I finished a book today.”
Her mouth drops open. “Really? That’s fantastic.”
“I called it Heart and Soul before I read the letter.”
Jill’s mouth drops open in surprise. “That’s really weird.”
“No, it’s the way Corbin was. He knew me.”
“So again, Harlow, what do you want to do?”
I bite my lip as the bartender Rissa brings me a refill. Everyone else has to go to the bar, but Jill seems to have the insider lead on getting personal attention. I take a long sip. It’s the Graffiti Street take on an Old Fashioned, and it tastes like honey, leather, and a splash of spring rain. The trifecta of my favorites.
“I don’t even know his last name.” I do have his phone number, so I pull out my phone.
The front door opens, and two big guys come through. One much bigger than Copper and one a little smaller. The door closes.
I take another drink and Bad English starts crooning.
“I love this song,” Jill leans back and drinks her vodka, soda, and lime.
“Me, too.” I down my drink quicker than I probably should, but I want to coat the fears inside of me.
I don’t look the next time the door opens, but when I see Jill’s smiling face, I turn to look at what she’s seeing.
My heart stops. I’m seeing an apparition. It can’t be. He doesn’t see us in the dark corner of the bar as he crosses to pull out a barstool next to the two guys who just came in.
