They left me alone after that, leaving the bar.
Bert stood near me, staring my way, not saying one word. His head tilted to the left, and then to the right, and within seconds, he sat back down at the booth across from me. His hand landed on top of mine, and he gave it one light squeeze, a squeeze that reminded me of Maggie, because everything in the world reminded me of her.
Bert picked up the bottle of whiskey and poured me another glass.
He didn’t offer me his apologies; he didn’t feed me bullshit words to wash away the hurt.
Instead, he gave me whiskey to drown out the memories.
As I sipped the drink, it burned down my throat. The burning sensation reminded me of the rumors, the lies, the accident, the scars. It reminded me of every single pain that lived in my chest until it managed to completely shut down my mind.
I woke up each morning out of habit. I brushed my teeth, showered, and got dressed because of my lifelong routine, but that’s about all I did. I woke up, I read lies, I drank, I went to sleep.
The band tried their best to convince me to allow them to come stay with me, but I refused. It wasn’t their fault what happened, it was mine. I forced us to go out on the boat when they wanted to chill inside.
Mrs. Boone’s cabin was the best place to escape from the world. There weren’t cameras in my face at all times, trying to figure out my future. I was able to just be alone.
The only days I changed my daily activities were on the days it rained.
During the rain, I’d go sit in the middle of the lake, in a small canoe.
I’d boat out to the middle of the water as the raindrops fell against me. As the sky was loud, I always remained quiet and still.
Even though I was supposed to come to the cabin to find myself, each day I became more lost. I could feel it too, the shift in me. I was becoming colder. I was becoming a stranger to myself.
I was walking a road that would never lead me home.
“This will do,” Daddy said, bringing in the last box from the truck outside. We’d somehow traveled back in time to when it was just him and me in a tiny apartment, dreaming of a bigger world. Only this time there was a sister with dreadlocks, who wouldn’t leave our side.
That night, Cheryl went home to stay with Mama, and I slept on an air mattress in one of the bedrooms, while Daddy slept in the other on his air mattress. Around three in the morning, I woke up to hearing movement throughout the apartment. Sitting up, I tiptoed into the kitchen to see Daddy wide awake, making a pot of coffee. When he turned to see me, he almost jumped out of his skin. “Jesus, Maggie! You scared me.”
I gave him an apologetic grin, and grabbed my dry-erase board before sitting on top of the countertop.
“You can’t sleep?” he asked.
I heard you walking around. Are you okay?
He grimaced. “I thought that was it, you know? I thought she was forever.” He poured two cups of coffee, then handed me a mug. “When I first met Katie, she was a ray of sunlight. She had this energy about her that spread through me, you know? I don’t know what happened to her over the years, but she started changing. She became colder… I wondered if it was something I did, something I said, but I lost my wife a long time ago. But heck, I changed too.
“I convinced myself she was just going through some things, that what had happened to you somehow happened to her too—not directly, just a cause and effect kind of thing. But things got worse each day. The woman I knew disappeared right in front of me each day. And the man I knew myself to be went away, too.”
You miss her?
He brushed his fingers against his temple. “I miss the idea of missing her. Truth is I stopped missing her even when she was in the same room as me. Over time, I wanted to leave. But, I couldn’t rush you. I couldn’t make you leave when you weren’t ready.”
My heart landed in my throat. He only stayed with her because of me. He stayed unhappy to keep me safe.
I’m sorry I made you stay.
He shook his head. “I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”
We sat up drinking the blackest of coffee and not saying a thing. Daddy and I were pretty good at being silent with each other. It always felt right. Right before I was about to head back to bed, he paused. “An English teacher asked a student to name two pronouns. What did the student ask?”
I smiled at his joke and answered it. Who, me?
He chuckled to himself. “Who, me.” As he walked toward his bedroom, he turned back my way and told me the truth he’d been avoiding telling himself.
“I miss her.”
Even through the struggles—even through the hurt—he still loved her. That was the thing about love. It didn’t leave because you told it to go. It simply stayed quiet, bleeding out from the pain, still praying you wouldn’t let it slip away.
“He hasn’t unpacked,” Cheryl said to me from the living room.
Daddy sat at the kitchen island drinking yet another cup of coffee. It’d been a week since we moved into the new apartment, but his bedroom still lived within boxes.
“Why do you think?”
He’s waiting for her to tell him to come home.
Cheryl’s eyes dulled, and her brows grow closer in thought. “Mom’s no better. Not trying to judge, but by the greasiness of her hair, and the swarm of flies following her around, I doubt she’s even showering.”
I snickered at my dramatic sister.
“Love is hard, isn’t it?”
Yup.
“That’s why I’m just going to get a cat. Cats don’t need anything from you except for food and a place to poop. That’s all I want from relationships, too. Give me some tacos and a toilet for the aftermath of tacos, and I’ll live happily ever after. I’m definitely going to get myself a cat. And maybe tacos for dinner. Will you come over and clean the litter box for me?”
No. Probably not.
“Okay then. I’m definitely not getting a cat.”
I snickered. My cell phone started ringing, and I answered using FaceTime.
“Hey, sis!” Calvin said, smiling into his phone.
I waved, and Cheryl popped over to be seen.
“Hey, Brother!” she shouted, waving.
“Ah, two for the price of one. Digging the dreadlocks, little sister. I’m out in LA with the guys for some meetings and stuff, and I only have a few minutes before the next one starts. But I was calling to ask for your help, Maggie.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“I called Brooks, and he sounded pretty wasted when he answered. He wouldn’t talk to me for long, but I think he’s in bad shape. I know he told you he needed space, and I know you were only giving it to him because he gave you your space in the past, but this is different. I get him needing time to collect his thoughts, but I don’t think that’s what he’s doing. I think he’s doing the complete opposite, and I was hoping you could go check on him.”
The answer was yes. If Brooks was lost, I’d be there for him. In a heartbeat. Sometimes, when people thought they needed space, they really needed anything but.
Drive me up there? I asked my sister.
She nodded. “Of course.” She rubbed her stomach. “Can we stop for tacos, first? Because—tacos.”
Raindrops fell over the small town of Messa as Cheryl and I pulled up to the cabin. We unloaded my suitcases and went to the front porch. I’d knocked on the door a few times, receiving no reply from Brooks. My stomach was in knots, thinking the worst thoughts possible. I was thankful that Mrs. Boone gave me a spare key when she heard I was coming up to stay with Brooks for a while.
Turning the knob, the front door opened, and Brooks was nowhere to be found, which was odd, because his car was sitting parked out front.
Maybe he walked into town.
I took out my board. You can go, Cheryl.
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t want you here if he’s nowhere to be found…”
I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll call you if I ne
ed anything.
She was hesitating to go, but after some convincing, she drove off. I waited in the living room, sitting on the couch for Brooks to return, but he didn’t. After some time, I grabbed an umbrella and headed outside to walk into town as the raindrops kept falling. When I reached the local library, I hurried inside, taking my writing board with me.
The library was huge for such a small town, and made me feel as if I were back in my bedroom, surrounded by my favorite stories. As I walked in, a woman sitting at the front desk smiled my way. She had a sweetness to her, with her chocolate eyes and short gray hair. Her nametag read Mrs. Henderson. “Hi, can I help you somehow?”
I began writing. I’m looking for someone, and not sure if he’s been seen lately.
She snickered. “Honey, I know it’s a library, but you don’t have to be that quiet.”
I grimaced, and tapped my throat, and shook my head back and forth.
She frowned. “Oh my, you can’t speak? I’m so sorry. Okay, well, who are you looking for?”
Brooks Griffin.
She narrowed her eyes. “Now don’t come up into this town playing the sweet card, and then turn out to be a stalker of that poor boy. He’s been through enough already. The last thing he needs is someone coming up to bother him for an autograph or something.”
I’m a friend.
“Prove it.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone, and showed her pictures of Brooks and me cuddling together.
She smiled. “Seems like you both are close friends. Okay, well, it’s raining so he can only be in one place. Come on, follow me. I’ll show you. But if it turns out that those pictures are Photoshopped, so help me I’ll call Lucas. He’s not only the town cop, but he’s my husband, too.”
She grabbed her umbrella, then walked me out of the library and across the road to the coast of Lake Messa.
“You see him?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“There.” She pointed out to the water. “That tiny speck is him. Him and his tiny canoe,” Mrs. Henderson said, staring in the same exact direction in which I stared. Brooks was seated in the middle of the lake in his solo canoe. The rain was hammering against him, but he seemed unfazed by it all. “He only goes out there when it rains, never on the sunny days.”
I cocked my head to Mrs. Henderson, filled with wonderment, and she shrugged before speaking again. “A lot of the townsfolk think he goes out there during the storms trying to drown.”
I knew better, though. I knew the best place in the world to try to breathe was beneath the water.
As the rain let up I started paddling back toward the cabin. It was late, around eleven at night when the rainclouds decided to move on to their next town. I tied the canoe up to the dock and ran my hands through my soaked hair, shaking off some of the excess water.
“Shit,” I mumbled to myself, freezing my ass off. I wanted nothing more than to walk into the cabin, change my clothes, and crawl into bed. Yet as I dragged myself closer to the cabin, my chest tightened, seeing someone lying on the porch swing, sleeping. Damn paparazzi. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d tried to camp out at the cabin to get information from me, but normally the town sheriff, Lucas, was good at getting them to stay away.
After hours and hours of solitude in the water, I couldn’t handle some creep sitting outside the cabin, taking photos of me.
I marched over to the porch and huffed. “Listen, you asshole. Don’t you have something better to do than take fucking pictures of—” My voice faltered off as a sleepy Maggie started to wake, alert and alarmed. She jumped in her seat a bit, startled, reaching for her neck. When her eyes locked with mine, her hands eased back.
“Maggie?” I choked out, almost doubting my words. My chest tightened more. “What the hell are you doing here?” I barked, a little confused, a little mad, but happy. Mostly happy.
So damn happy to see her.
She scrambled around her back, searching for something. When she came back up, she held a board in the air, and I began reading my own hand writing.
Someday you’re going to wake up and leave your house, Magnet, and you’re going to discover the world. Someday you’re going to see the whole wide world, Maggie May, and on that day, when you step outside and breathe in your first breath, I want you to find me. No matter what, find me, because I’m going to be the one to show it to you. I’m going to help you cross off your to-do list. I’m gonna show you the whole wide world.
She stood up and her clothes were soaking wet as if she too had stood in the rain all night long. She sneezed and started shaking from the cold.
Maggie stood there staring at me, waiting for me to say something more, anything. So many thoughts passed through me as our eyes locked, but they weren’t thoughts I deserved to think. I didn’t think I deserved to miss her. I didn’t think I deserved to hold her. I didn’t think I deserved to love her.
All I did was drink and sleep in my self-pity.
She deserved more than my sadness. How could I show her the world while I was doing my best to avoid it?
“Come inside to dry up,” I said. I saw the small tinge of sadness wash over her as she nodded. It was almost as if she hoped I’d pack up my bag and join her on the journey to complete her to-do list.
It was the first time I felt as if I truly let her down.
We walked into the cabin, and I noticed suitcases in the living room. “Yours?”
She nodded.
“I’ll be right back.” I walked into my bedroom and darted directly toward the bathroom, where I splashed my face with water. “Jesus, Brooks. Pull yourself together.”
Seeing Maggie shook me. Being reminded of something so beautiful when all I felt lately were ugly moments was a hard transition for me. Seeing her made me want to breathe, when for the past few weeks all I’d been able to do was hold my breath.
“How did you get here?” I asked, coming back out to find her drying her hair with a towel and sorting through her suitcase for pajamas.
She scribbled. Cheryl.
I sighed. “It’s late, and I’m a bit drunk, so I can’t drive you back home until tomorrow. You can stay one night, but then you have to go. I’ll show you a room.”
She did as I said, and I took her to the European bedroom.
“You can stay here until the morning, then I’ll take you home. First thing in the morning, Maggie. There’s day-old pizza in the fridge if you want it and some sodas. Night.”
I kept things short. I didn’t want to dive into any kind of conversation with Maggie that night, because she had a way of making things better. I didn’t want to feel better.
I didn’t want to feel at all.
Turning to leave, I shut my eyes as I felt her fingers fall against my forearm. “Maggie,” I whispered then hesitated, but she pulled me back toward her. I met her blue eyes, and she gave me her perfect smile. “I can’t do this right now,” I told her, but she didn’t let me go. I broke my hold from Maggie, turning away. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”
I left her room before turning back to see her reaction. Slamming my bedroom door as I entered the room, I grabbed my bottle of Jack Daniel’s, and tried to forget what it felt like to feel again.
“Why are you cooking? We have to go,” I barked at Maggie the next morning as she stood in the kitchen cooking pancakes. I didn’t understand it. I was short with her the night before. I made it clear that we were leaving first thing in the morning.
She didn’t turn to acknowledge me. She kept cooking.
“Maggie!” I shouted, and still, no response.
I rolled my eyes, went to the fridge, and opened it for a beer. But, there was no beer to be found. “What the…” Fine. I moved over to the liquor cabinet and opened it wide, to find nothing. “Are you shitting me?” I grunted. “Maggie, where’s my alcohol?”
No reply. “Jesus, Maggie. You’re mute not deaf!”
She turned to me, narrowed her eye
s, and gave me a look of death, which somehow forced me to apologize. “Seriously, though. Where’s my stuff?”
She pointed over to the emptied bottles in the sink. My gut tightened, and I drew in a sharp breath. “You need to go home, Maggie. You need to go get your suitcases so I can take you home right now.”
She walked over to me and placed a comforting hand on my cheek. Then her fingers lightly grazed over the scar across my neck. I closed my eyes. Too much. Her touch gave me too much comfort.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, my hand falling on top of hers. I cleared my throat. “I asked you for space…” I swallowed hard.
She slid her lips against mine and held up her right hand. Five minutes.
I shut my eyes. “I can’t…”
She pulled me closer to her, resting her hands against my chest. When I opened my eyes, she was staring up at me with so much hope.
“Okay.” I shifted my feet and took her hands into mine. “Five minutes.”
The first minute, I had the hardest time staring her way. She reminded me of everything I always wanted and everything I’d already lost. The second minute, she reminded me of the best days of my life. The third minute, I thought of music. Maggie always reminded me of music. She was my music.
She moved in closer, and I stepped back, dropping our hold from one another.
I shook my head. “No. You can’t comfort me. I’m sorry. I can’t be near you. I’m sorry, Maggie. I’m going to go into town for the day, and when I get back, please be ready to leave.” I turned to walk away, embarrassed by my rawness, and as my foot hit the doorway, I spoke my truth. “You can’t fix me, Maggie. You gotta let me drown.”
I wouldn’t leave, and that pissed him off.
Each day that passed I received two different versions of Brooks Tyler Griffin. The first was the silent one, who’d walk past me without saying a word. In all my time of knowing him, he’d never once made me feel invisible until I came to that cabin.
The Silent Waters Page 23
