“Blue, I’m a plastic surgeon. And I’m a damn good one.”
“And not the least bit narcissistic.” I rolled my eyes.
“All it took was two seconds of me watching you from across the parking lot.”
I opened my mouth, but he cut me off.
“Let me finish,” Cash said. “Please.”
I pursed my lips.
“All it took was two seconds of watching you from across the street to see what makes you tick.” His eyes flicked up and toward the beach. “And it’s whoever just walked away.”
I looked at him and narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t get upset at me for calling you out on the truth.”
“I—”
“I fix people for a living. Everything they don’t like about themselves—I improve. You’re the one person I haven’t been able to repair, and that’s been so aggravating.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “I’m not broken.”
“Don’t lie to yourself. Do you think this is the real me?” He gestured toward his face. “That I can be this much of an ass?”
“Um. Yes.”
“C’mon. I’m not arguing that I don’t have my dick moments. I’m a guy.”
Silence.
“Blue, think about it. I sang Mambo Number Five while we were having sex. I’ve mentioned your weight countless times and used every sleazy sex euphemism I know. Who does that?” He let out a breath through his nose. “Look. For a long time now, I’ve wondered what it’ll take to get real emotion out of you. Fuck. I’ve tried everything imaginable. Treated you like shit. Forced myself to be a minute man in the bedroom. I even pressured Price to lay you off from Jensen & Jensen. All of it was to try to get you to crack. And I finally saw a little bit of that happen tonight…but it wasn’t for me.”
My shoulders wilted slowly.
“I wanted to see the emotion that lives behind those gorgeous blue eyes. My cock maneuvers were amped up to the max to get a rise out of you. I honestly don’t know what more I could have done. None of it worked.”
I opened my mouth and was cut off yet again.
“Do you know why I hired you?”
“My D-cup twins?” I replied, looking down at my chest.
“No.” He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. You’ve got a great rack, but that’s not why I brought you on at Jensen & Jensen. I saw a flicker of something in you I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was innocent and beautiful and genuine. You were someone who didn’t care about my money and didn’t want lipo done on them for dirt cheap. You didn’t want any part of my place in the Sacramento spotlight. And I wanted to get to know that person.”
My jaw fell and he held a finger to my lips.
“But these walls of yours have been impossible to scale. After a while, it became an obsession to break you down and figure you out. I failed.”
I looked down at the ground.
He tilted my chin upward. “I thought I loved you, but tonight I realized I was wrong. I was in love with a concept—fixing a broken heart. And for whatever the reason, you craved the negativity I created. I wanted to repair you so badly, but I didn’t know how. And then,” he glanced toward the beach, “I saw the answer. He was here less than two minutes ago. For what it’s worth? I’m sorry I got you canned. I can talk to Price and tell him everything if you want to come back.”
I was speechless. Cash was the last person I expected to teach me a lesson, especially one that was so pivotal about myself. Every word he spoke struck home in the worst way.
“I don’t think I can ever go back.” I blinked, unsure if I meant go back to Sacramento or to the person who I’d been for the past two years. Hell, maybe I meant both. “Everything we had was fake. For both of us.”
“I get it. You know where to find me if you ever change your mind and want to get to know the real Cash.” He looked down at me and cupped my face in his warm hands before giving me a chaste kiss on the forehead. “Bye, Blue.”
Much like Adam, he began to walk away, vanishing while leaving with an echoing numbness of his own.
“Cash, wait!” I called out, emotion choking my voice.
He stopped and turned around, a glimmer of hope spelled out on his face. “Yeah?”
My voice hitched and my nose burned, knowing it was likely the last time I’d ever see or speak to him again. “Do me a favor? Look after Otis?”
There was a hint of disappointment behind his eyes. “Who? The old guy in the parking garage?”
I nodded.
“Who do you think bought him the sleeping bag?” He gave me a last of his signature winks before turning to leave.
This time, I didn’t stop him.
That was my first glimpse of the real Cash, and it hurt watching him walk away. How could a stranger be so important and so irrelevant to me at the same time? I was left standing alone on the sidewalk with heavy thoughts. He was right. I’d made myself unattainable by keeping everyone at bay. Friends. Neighbors. Men. Family. As he sped off in his Ferrari, he didn’t look my direction.
An even bigger question had reared its ugly head in the wake of his speech. What happened to the real Blue? I’d bottled her up the moment I’d left Steele Falls. Trying to pour all of me out in the past few days? It hurt so damn bad.
Tears burned my eyes over Cash’s departure as I stood alone. So much time was wasted, both of us doing a complex dance of chasing and avoiding ghosts for nearly a year. It was up to interpretation as to who led and who followed. But none of that mattered. Not anymore. He’d been brought into my life for one reason: to teach me how to let go.
Once again, perspective sucked big, hairy balls. I needed to evict Cash from my thoughts. There was someone I needed to talk to, and he was due all of my attention. With determination fueling me as I stood outside the door of The Fill & Spill, I buttoned my jacket and prepared to tackle one of my most intimidating demons.
As I was about to take my first steps toward clearing that hurdle, the door of bar flung open again and a bulky frame collided into mine, knocking me to the ground.
“Shit. I’m so sorry.” And then his tone changed when he glanced down at me lying on the sidewalk. “Oh…it’s you.”
“Yeah, well thanks for the informal plow down.” Bits of rock had embedded themselves in my palms. My flesh stung, but it didn’t combat the fear pouring through my veins. Instead of hunting down my demon, he’d found me instead.
No one could make the next move except for me.
“Beanbag.” I choked back tears. Don’t be a sissy and run, Blue. Prove you can do this. With every ounce of courage I had, I pushed myself to my feet and looked him in the eyes. “I’m ready to talk.”
“You…want to talk right now?” He looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby. “To me?”
I lowered my gaze to the ground and nodded. “Uh huh.”
“Are you sure you realize what you’re asking?”
I shook my head no and yes as I stood up, brushing bits of dirt from my palms. “I mean, yes. I’m sure. And no, I’m not running. Not anymore.”
His eyes sparkled with tears. “Don’t fucking play games with me right now, Blue Brennan. My heart can’t take it.”
I made the motion of drawing an X across my chest with my index finger. “I know. Promise.”
What I did to Beanbag in the past wasn’t fair. In fact, it was downright brutal and spineless. Everything I had coming was warranted. Forgiveness wasn’t in the cards, and I wasn’t going to ask him for it. Ever. All I could do was make an attempt to right my wrong, two years too late, and hope for some sense of peace—for both our sakes.
“How do I know I can believe you?” His face was unreadable. “You’re about to crawl through Hell.”
I wrapped my arms around myself to keep
from unraveling at the seams. “Even if it makes me bleed, I need to face what happened. Please?”
After studying my face, he nodded. “We should probably go somewhere private.”
“What about ‘Veigh?” I hiked my thumb over my shoulder.
“What about her? Your sister is blissfully unaware of the anchor I’ve carried around, and I’m not about to tell her now. Especially when she’s hopped up on baby hormones. This is between you and me.”
“But isn’t she waiting for you?”
“Daveigh’s taking Lucy home once she stops greeting her guts. Plus, I have to stop by Eddie’s on the way home, so I drove myself.”
“If you need to go…”
“Huh uh. I’ve waited too long for this. Walking away isn’t an option on my end,” his voice wavered. “Holding this in is killing me, and I can’t let go until…” He closed his eyes, stopping himself from crying.
I nodded in the direction of The Lean, Mean, Coffee Bean across the street. “Coffee shop? Eddie can’t be all wrong.”
“Not secluded enough. How about the park?”
I nodded and walked beside him for two blocks, the only sound our shoes connecting with the pavement. A thick layer of fog settled in the farther we went. Wisps of sheer white blanketed the grass, blade by blade. My teeth chattered as I fought off the shiver. Silently, I wondered how much was from the weather and how much was from trepidation.
Beanbag sat down on one of the tire swings and stared at the ocean. “You know, this was one of her favorite places.”
Anyone mentioning her felt like a dagger piercing my heart. But when Beanbag did it? It cut deeper than ever. “I remember.”
“When my sister…” He pushed out a deep breath. “When Madelyn took that monster pill cocktail…”
I fought back the urge to throw up with my hand clamped over my mouth.
“You knew about the OD, right? And the gun?” He looked alarmed.
I nodded, my voice unsteady. “It hurts. Hearing you say her name...”
He dug the toes of his shoes into the thick layer of sand beneath the swing and looked up at me. “Maybe we should start at the beginning. What do you know about that night?”
I sat down on the lowest platform of the big toy. “Not a lot. She was angry with me.”
“So, you know the how but not the why.” He stopped the swing from moving.
“It was because of me.”
There was a hint of argument behind his voice. “Being upset with you had nothing to do with what she did.”
I lowered my head in shame. “Right.”
“Jesus, Blue. Is that what you’ve thought for the past two years? She didn’t kill herself because of any fight you two may have had.”
“Don’t soften the blow for me. It won’t work.”
“She didn’t and I’m not. Madelyn didn’t tell any of us why until after, but she did a damn good job of hiding it.”
My heart skipped a beat in my chest. “Hiding what?”
“I have something for you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his worn leather wallet. Inside was a plain, white envelope that’d been folded into quarters. The edges were discolored and bent with age.
“What’s that?” I frowned, flashbacks of Tom’s unwanted envelopes whispering for my attention.
He held it out to me. “Take it. Please. I can’t carry this fucking thing around for you anymore. It’s too heavy.”
Fear ruled me.
“I’m begging.” Two tears tumbled down his cheeks.
Holding my breath, I took the envelope from him and set it on my lap, afraid holding it would heighten the sting in my chest. With the pad of my index finger, I traced over the bubbly letters that spelled my name on the front. Madelyn’s writing. I’d have known it anywhere. “What am I supposed do now?”
His response was simple. “Read it.”
Reality took a firm hold. Once I opened that envelope, my life would be forever changed. “What if I’m not ready for her words?”
“Come on.” He motioned for me to follow him over to a nearby picnic table where he sat down across from me. “If you need to stop, put it away. I’m not here to judge you or pressure you into finishing it. It took me damn near a week to get through mine, and every last sentence shredded me from skin to soul.”
My eyes flicked up at him. “Wait. She left one of these for you too?”
“I assume it’s similar; I didn’t open yours.” He counted on his fingers. “There was one for you, one for my mom and dad, and one for me. That was it.”
He reached across the table and gave my hand a gentle squeeze, compassion behind his eyes. “If you want me to stay while you read it, I will. You can lean on me when the pain’s too much to bear.”
“No!” My tone was snappish. I waited for him to rescind the offer before setting the envelope down, but it didn’t happen. “I won’t ask you to do that. You’ve already dealt…” I shook my head. The gesture was too much.
“Blue, you’re not asking. I’m offering. No one,” he pressed his thumb down on the paper, pinning it to the table, “should be alone if what’s in that letter is anything like what was in mine. I was by myself when I learned the truth, and it damn near broke me.
“When I found her body, the letters were clutched in her hand. Blue slack lips. Wide open eyes. A bullet hole. No evidence of breathing. But her grip? It looked so tight, I thought a piece of her hung on in there, and I could somehow win her back. But I was wrong. Madelyn spent a ridiculous amount of time piecing all of this together. I wish…she’d have invested those moments telling us instead, you know?”
“You were the one who found her?”
The weight of the conversation hit me like a ton of bricks, my body feeling like a deflated balloon. I couldn’t fathom the grief wracking his heart in losing a sibling. If Finn or Daveigh had died, unable to cope with…I don’t know what I would’ve done. And to top it off, the idea of not getting to say goodbye made me physically ill. But wasn’t I just as guilty? I’d done the same thing by cutting ties with Daveigh and Finn? And Adam. Internally, I fell apart.
He nodded. “When I found her, it took three tries to call 911. My hands, they wouldn’t work.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“Beanbag…”
He blinked, two more symmetrical tears falling down his face. “You can only outrun so much, but you can’t outrun what lives inside you.”
I touched the sealed edge of the envelope. It was time. My finger slid under the edge, breaking the seal before I pulled out three full-length pieces of paper. The front and backs were saturated from top to bottom with words.
The handwriting was in neat pink ink. Over time, I’d allowed myself to forget she’d only written in that color. Every i was dotted with a perfect star and each period had been replaced with a tiny heart. Signature Madelyn.
I straightened out the deep creases and looked up at Beanbag, who gave me a nod of encouragement. His eyes didn’t falter toward the paper. Instead, they remained fixated on me.
Holding my breath, I internally counted to three before I dove into what would be one of the hardest ventures of my life.
Blue,
If you’re reading this, you already know.
Before you ask aloud or give this piece of paper any judgmental looks, my decision was made three days ago. It was 100% mine. I want you to understand that before you continue reading. Let that concept sink in. No one else knew what I went through or what I’d decided, not even you. It wasn’t your cross to bear, so I sheltered you from my truth.
Are people gossiping and calling me selfish? Probably. Are they whispering I’m a chicken? Likely. In my opinion, it’s selfish for me to continue living, and I’d be a chicken to not carry out my plan. So, to those who call me greedy
or weak, I’m raising my final glass with zero fucks to give. Their opinions don’t matter because I’m finally going to be free from the burden of this body. Free. That single word sends a steady stream of tears down my face. They’ve been near-constant lately as I prepare my goodbyes, but they’re laced with a combination of salty terror and sweet joy.
Three days ago, I received a phone call from White Pines. You know, it says something when your cancer doctor is number six on speed dial. The sickening dread in my gut was immediate when I saw his name blinking on the caller ID. My hands began to sweat and shake while my heart pounded up into my throat. It reminded me of that same feeling we both got before riding the big roller coaster at the fair back when we were kids. Remember? God, I’m going to miss that.
It took four rings before I had enough courage to answer. Four rings. And they were doozies. Each one felt like a lifetime as I stared at the screen. Part of me thought if I didn’t answer, I wouldn’t have to acknowledge what he had to say. Pretty stupid, huh? Either way, I was wrong. My truth awaited, and I needed to face it head-on. Three words were all I needed to hear before I crumbled to my knees in the parking lot of The Lean, Mean, Coffee Bean. I probably looked like an idiot, but I challenge anyone to hear “inoperable brain tumor” and continue functioning. Thinking back, I think those were the only three words I remember hearing. The rest? I processed them, but it was hazy. “Aggressive” was mentioned and it felt like a knife in my chest. “Stage four” was another ugly combo. That was the one that made me dry heave the most. The real kicker was “only a few months”. That phrase was the worst, and it made me numb. Kinda like my body tried to protect my brain. Ironic since my brain had been the one attacking me. The bottom line was recovery had been yanked off the table like a cheap optical illusion at a magic show.
At first, I didn’t know how to describe what I felt most. Was it anger? Denial? Regret? Sadness? Looking back, it was all of those and more, but it was like my emotions were jumbled into a giant blender. It was an unpleasant feelings smoothie, and I had a tough time choking it down.
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