The Road to You

by Melissa Toppen

  I swallow down the hard lump in my throat, not able to take my eyes off her as we both make our way toward the car from opposite directions.

  She replaced her black dress with dark leggings and a long gray sweater that almost hangs to her knees, her long blonde hair now tied into a messy knot on top of her head. She’s so damn beautiful that for a moment I forget who she is entirely and just focus on the way her hips sway as she walks. On the way she nibbles her bottom lip nervously when she reaches the car. And the way her sweet vanilla scent engulfs me the instant she climbs into the seat next to me.

  “Ready?” I ask, watching as she nervously pulls the arm of her sweater over her brace.

  “Ready,” she answers after a moment, nodding.

  Slipping on my seatbelt, I back out of the driveway, meeting Elara’s gaze in the reflection of the window for the briefest moment before she quickly looks away.

  “Can I ask you something?” I ask after several long moments of silence have stretched between us.

  “Okay.” I see her glance in my direction out of my peripheral vision but I keep my gaze locked on the road.

  “You loved my brother?”

  “Is that a question?” She seems confused.

  “No. I mean, you loved him. I know that. And I know how much you meant to him. So why did you two never…”

  “Why did we never date?” she finishes my sentence, clearly picking up on where I’m going with this.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Most things are.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” She shrugs.

  “Try me,” I offer.

  “Kam was my best friend. And I was in love with him,” she admits, looking back out the window. “At first I thought he didn’t feel the same way. But as time went on I knew he did. I could tell.”

  “Then what was the hold up?”

  “I don’t know, honestly.” She lets out a slow breath. “I guess I didn’t want to be the one to come out and say it. I needed him to do it. It seems so stupid now. All the time we wasted.” She sniffs and only then do I notice the tears that have once again welled in her eyes.

  Without thinking I reach over and squeeze her hand, not missing the way she once again tenses at my touch.

  “I told him I was in love with him the day of the accident,” she admits, a couple tears streaking down her cheek. “I told him I loved him and then I watched him die.”

  In an instant, I’m yanking the car to the side of the road. After unclasping my seat belt and then hers, I have her in my arms within seconds of putting the car in park.

  “Shhh,” I whisper into her hair, fighting back the overwhelming urge to just let myself go right along with her.

  “Be strong for her,” I hear Kam say in my mind. “Take care of my girl.”

  “We missed out on so much.” She turns her face into my chest, clenching the sleeve of my shirt with her good hand as the sobs rack through her. “We wasted so much time.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know a single word that can comfort her right now. So I do the only thing I know to do. I hold onto her as tightly as I can and let her cry herself out.

  I don’t know how much time has passed by the time she finally pulls away. Maybe it’s seconds. Maybe it’s several minutes. All I know is that when she pulls back and looks up at me with swollen blood shot eyes, I nearly lose it.

  “I’m so sorry.” She withdraws quickly like she’s only now remembering who she’s with.

  “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I have a lot to be sorry for,” she mutters under her breath, wiping at her cheeks.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Nothing.” She shakes her head before meeting my gaze. “I’m just sorry to dump all my stuff on you. You and your family have suffered such an unimaginable loss and here I am acting like I’m the only one affected by this.”

  “You’re not dumping anything on me. Selfishly I want you to need me because in some weird way I think I need you.”

  “Why would you need me?” She seems genuinely confused by my statement.

  “You were the closest person to my brother. You knew him better than anyone else. I guess being close to you makes me feel closer to him.”

  “You remind me a lot of him,” she says, once again pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. “Being near you makes me feel closer to him too.”

  “What do you say we skip the pancakes? I think we’re in need of something a little stronger than syrup,” I suggest.

  “I think that sounds like a good idea.” She gives me a soft smile and I swear in that instant my heart kicks back to life, finally beating inside my chest for the first time in days.

  “He did what?” I cover my mouth to contain the laughter that bubbles in my throat.

  “You heard me.” Kane chuckles, taking a long pull of beer before setting his bottle back on the small bar table that separates us. “Completely naked.”

  “And you let him do it?” I gawk, trying to process the story he’s been telling me for the last several minutes with the heavy buzz running through my veins.

  “He knew the stakes and he took the bet anyway.” Kane shrugs, smile firmly in place.

  “So he ran through the front yard full of people completely naked?”

  He nods, laughing like he can picture it perfectly in his head. “I will never forget the look on my mother’s face.”

  “Remind me to never play cards with you.” I shake my head, trying to envision Kam as a ten year old boy streaking through his parents’ yard in the middle of their Fourth of July cookout.

  “Technically it was our cousin Brock who named the punishment for losing, not me.”

  “As if that makes it any better. You still let him do it.”

  “Trust me, there was no way I was talking him out of it. Kam always kept his word. If he said he was going to do something he did it. He agreed to the terms of the game. Hell, he was walking out of the garage with half his clothes off before any of us had processed that he was actually going to do it right then and there.”

  “Oh my god.” I laugh. “Your poor parents.”

  “Trust me, they were pissed. But they got a good laugh out of it too. Well, after everyone had left they did.”

  “Kam was never like that with me. He was never the one doing the crazy things. He was the one always trying to talk me out of doing them.”

  “That’s just because he cared so much about you. He probably didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “He used to get so mad at me,” I say, tracing my finger around the rim of my glass. “I told him he reminded me of my father. The way he used to scold me whenever I did something he thought was dangerous or reckless.”

  “Sounds like my brother.” He nods knowingly. “He was always a bit of a wild card but when it came to taking real risk, he always aired on the caution. Hell, surfing was even a bit of a stretch for him. But he loved the water so much there was no keeping him out of it. His love for the sport overshadowed his fear,” he stops, falling silent for a long moment.

  I know what he’s thinking. How could someone who always played it safe die the way he did? The answer is me. And as much as I want to say that, as much as I want to tell him how all of this is my fault, I can’t find it in me to utter the words.

  I guess selfishly I don’t want him to look at me the way I know he will once he learns the truth.

  “He told me about you though,” he continues after what feels like forever.

  “Told you what?”

  “What a daredevil you are.”

  “I don’t know that I would go that far.” I shake my head, needing away from this conversation and the guilt that accompanies it. “What about you? Are you a risk taker or are you like your brother? Liking to play it safe.”

  “I think I’m a little bit in the middle. I don’t take unnecessary risk if I don’t have to, but I al
so love the thrill of doing something that pushes the boundaries. I’m all about the experience.”

  “Is that why you like to travel so much?” I ask. “Kam told me about all the travelling you do for your job and about how much you travelled before that as well,” I say in way of explanation.

  “I guess, yeah. It takes me out of my comfort zone and submerges me into an entirely different world. I love experiencing different cultures, meeting all different kinds of people, seeing the world in a completely different way.”

  “Sounds amazing.”

  “It is,” he agrees. “What about you? You travel at all?”

  “Nope.” I take a drink of my cranberry and vodka, before continuing, “I’ve only been here, Arkansas, and Florida.”

  “Seriously?”

  “My mom loved Clearwater. We vacationed there every year so I didn’t get to see a lot of different places growing up. And then of course my Aunt Carol lives here and now so do I. Other than that.” I shrug as if to say there’s nothing else.

  “Wow. Sounds to me like we need to get you out of here, show you a different part of the world.”

  “Is that so? What? You gonna fly me to Paris or something?”

  “Do you want to go to Paris?” he asks, his expression void of humor.

  “Not really no.”

  “No?” he questions, cocking his head to the side. “Paris is a beautiful city.”

  “I’m sure it is but if I was going to go out of the country I’d want to experience something not quite so touristy.”

  “Well clearly you’ve thought about it. Tell me, if you could go anywhere in the world where would it be?”

  “Manarola Italy,” I answer without hesitation.

  “Well that’s very specific.” Kane chuckles. “Care to elaborate why that location?”

  “My dad’s grandparents are from Italy. Manarola is where my great grandfather and grandmother lived. I think I’d like to see where I came from more than I would some fancy tower.”

  “I like that.”

  “What?” I ask, feeling slightly squeamish under his penetrating gaze.

  “That you would rather connect to your roots than visit somewhere just to visit. We should go there someday.”

  “We?” I choke around the drink I was in the middle of taking.

  “What? You don’t want to travel with me?” he fakes offense.

  “Well, I don’t really know you,” I remind him.

  “Yet,” he states matter of fact.

  “Yet?” I question playfully, taking another drink.

  “Give me time, Elara. I just might grow on you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I quip.

  Kane laughs at my rebuttal, finishing off his beer before gesturing to my near empty glass. “You want another?”

  “I probably shouldn’t.” I place my palm over the opening of my glass. “I think I’ve had too much as it is.”

  “Three is too much?” He grins. “Lightweight.”

  “I won’t argue there. I don’t drink very much and considering I’ve only had pretzels from the bar to eat I think I’m even more intoxicated than I normally would be,” I say, realizing just how buzzed I actually am. Not to the point that I feel like I can’t function or anything but enough that I feel a bit unsteady on my stool.

  “Perhaps food would have been a better idea before drinks,” he offers, holding his hand up to signal the waitress as she walks by.

  Asking for the check, he waits until she walks away before turning his attention back to me. “I guess since I got you sloshed the least I can do is feed you,” he teases, his dark eyes almost black under the dim bar lighting.

  “How very gentlemanly of you,” I deadpan, taking the last drink of my vodka cranberry before scooting the glass off to the side of the table. “And here I thought you were an asshole.”

  “Oh, I am an asshole,” he promises. “But only when I want to be.” He stares at me intently for a long moment before a wide smile breaks across his face.

  He looks so much like Kam when he smiles. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure how that makes me feel. A part of me loves how much he reminds me of Kam. Being here with him has shown me just how similar they really are. It’s almost like having a piece of Kam still here on Earth.

  But for all their similarities they are also very different. And in their differences I am reminded that he isn’t Kam, no matter how much I wish he was.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I finally respond, swallowing past the knot that has once again lodged itself in my throat.

  ****

  “So you live in Chicago?” I ask, taking a large bite of pancakes while Kane sits back in his chair across from me sipping coffee.

  “Technically yes, though I travel so much for work I don’t know that I would say I actually live anywhere.”

  “Kam told me you do some kind of consulting?” I question, having not cared much at the time.

  “Risk Management.” He nods, taking another sip of coffee.

  “And what does that entail exactly?”

  “I’m hired by outside companies to identify threats, assess the vulnerability of critical assets, determine the risk, and identify ways to reduce those risks.”

  “I have no idea what you just said,” I admit, a small smile on my lips.

  “Yeah, exactly.” He chuckles.

  “So you go in and make sure that companies don’t take any unnecessary risks to help protect their business?”

  “Sort of.” He nods. “That’s an easy way to put it I guess.”

  “And you get to travel a lot doing that?”

  “Because I’m not employed by any one company, many of the companies that hire me have offices out of the country. When working with these clients I travel to them for the length of the contract I’ve been hired for.”

  “You must see some pretty amazing places doing that.”

  “I have.”

  “Tell me your favorite place that you’ve been.”

  “That’s hard.” He thinks on it for a moment. “I guess I’d have to say my favorite so far is Madrid. I lived there for almost four months last year and really fell in love with it.”

  “Doesn’t it feel weird, going somewhere for that long, getting used to the way of life, and then coming back here?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes I’m glad to be home, other times I wish I could go back. It just depends on the location and the job.”

  “That sounds incredible though.”

  “It really is,” he agrees.

  “Did you choose this profession because of the travel opportunities?” I ask, enjoying having a conversation that doesn’t revolve around anything too heavy.

  “Yes and no. I didn’t set out with the goal to be a risk management consultant but it turns out I’m really good at seeing the bigger picture. The travelling is just a bonus,” he says, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “Oh, well right now I work as a receptionist at my aunt’s salon but that’s not the end goal.”

  “What is?”

  “I’ll let you know once I figure it out.”

  “You went to Southern State with Kam, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What did you major in?”

  “English.” I curl my nose. “In retrospect it probably wasn’t the most responsible choice to get an education in something I’m not sure I’ll ever use.”

  “Then why English?”

  “Honestly I really don’t know. I guess I thought maybe one day I would try my hand at writing. I’ve always wanted to do screenplays, on top of other things.”

  “Really? That’s interesting.”

  “It’s silly and something I’ll likely never do. Really I just went to college to make my father happy. It didn’t hurt that Kam was there with me.” I let out a slow breath. “Kam on the other hand, he knew exactly
what he wanted to do.”

  “When he said he was majoring in photography I didn’t think he was actually serious,” Kane admits.

  “But he did it.” I smile past the sadness welling in my chest. “He was always so talented. The way he saw the most ordinary things was like he was looking at them with a different type of eyes. He found beauty in everything.”

  “Some things are more obvious than others, I guess.” The way he says it makes my skin prickle from the inside out but I shake it off, knowing I’m probably in no state of mind to assume he’s talking about me.

  “Anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter now.” I sigh, setting my fork onto my plate, suddenly feeling like there’s no way I can stomach another bite.

  That seems to be all it takes. One minute I feel okay, the next I feel like the walls are closing in on me. The panic slowly starts to creep back in, brought on by discussing a future Kamden will never get. A future I took from him. Feeling like I might suffocate at any moment, I stand abruptly and take off through the small restaurant.

  “Elara,” Kane calls after me but I’m already outside by the time his voice registers.

  I cross to the side of the building and lean over, putting my hands on my knees as I take calculated breaths, willing myself not to vomit.

  “Elara.” Kane stands next to me, yet I hadn’t heard his approach.

  “Just leave me alone, Kane.” I don’t change my position, my eyes closed tightly.

  “I don’t understand. What did I do?”

  “Nothing. Okay? You didn’t do anything. I just need you to go.”

  “Elara.” He says my name the way Kam used to always say it when he wasn’t sure how to handle me – hesitant, like he’s afraid I might snap at any moment.

  “I just can’t. I can’t sit in there and talk about him like he’s never coming back.”

  “He’s not coming back,” he says somberly.

  “You think I don’t know that.” I stand upright, my gaze finding his in an instant. “You think I don’t know he’s dead. I watched him die.” My voice shakes as it rises. “I watched his eyes close for the last time five days ago and now I’m sitting in the restaurant he used to always bring me to, talking to his brother who I keep trying to pretend is him. But you’re not him, Kane. And I hate you for that. I hate you for not being the person I want you to be. And that’s totally irrational and unfair, I know, but I can’t help it.”