Don't Look Back

by Wendy Vella

  She'd exposed him, if he was honest with himself, and that alone should be enough to get him on his bike and leaving town. But still he stayed.

  The sun was starting to climb as he parked, and the day once again promised to be a warm one.

  “Morning,” he said, walking into the Hoot, where Buster and Willow stood behind the counter.

  “Hey there, boy.”

  “’Lo, Buster.”

  “How's Razzle?”

  “He's sleeping, but he did a poop and pee outside this morning, didn't he, Brad?”

  “Sure did.” Brad felt two sets of eyes studying him. “You go on and get a seat now, and I'll just order our food.”

  “Kind of early for you to be over at Macy's, don't you think?” Buster rested his hip on the counter, which suggested he wasn't going anywhere. “Where is she anyway?”

  And this, Brad realized, was what Macy was worried about. People asking questions about them.

  “I called by to check on the dog.” Brad was an excellent poker player, no one could read anything in his expression if he didn't want them to. “Macy took a call from her mom when I arrived, and her dad's worse, so she had to get over there. I offered to drop her and look after Billy.”

  It all sounded totally plausible to Brad's mind, but these people weren't the accepting type. They were the questioning, invasive type.

  “Oh that's horrible, poor Macy. I hope that man doesn't suffer too much longer,” Willow said, jabbing Buster in the ribs as she passed him to reach the cabinet. “Make coffee, Buster.”

  “Stop nagging me, woman.”

  The man followed his words up with a kiss on his lady's check, then thank God, he moved to the coffee machine and the questions were over. Brad knew this was merely a hiatus, but he'd take it.

  Billy found a table and a coloring book and pencils, and Brad had just joined him when he heard the thud of boots on the floor.

  Millicent Lawrence looked to be walking toward him. Dear God, she wasn't deviating. Getting out of his chair as she arrived, because he had a feeling manners meant a great deal to this woman, and his height surely gave him a slight advantage if he needed to look intimidating.

  “Aunty Milly.”

  Two words, and suddenly her face changed. Gone was the thin line of her mouth, and the “who can I stomp on next” look was replaced with a smile. Not exactly sweet, but a smile nonetheless.

  “Hello, darling.”

  She hugged the boy and kissed the top of his head, then pulled up a chair and sat. Brad straightened and threw Buster a look, who in turn raised his hands and retreated.

  Bastard.

  “Where's Macy?”

  “Her father's worse.”

  “Why do you have the boy?”

  “I was handy when she took the call.”

  “Why?”

  “I was checking on the new pup.”

  Brad felt a trickle of sweat roll down his back. He now knew what it was like to be under the spotlight.

  “Just see you don't hurt either of those two.”

  Brad couldn't answer that one, so he shook his head.

  “I've found a bird that makes its home on Buchanan land. It's on the endangered species list. It's my belief we may be able to use this.”

  “Good work,” Brad said, because he felt something was needed.

  “What are your intentions toward Macy?”

  “P-pardon?” The switch in conversation wrongfooted him.

  “Not deaf, are you?” She roared the words at him.

  “Not that I'm aware of, but you keep speaking in that tone, I could be.” Brad respected his elders, but only if they respected him right back. He didn't tolerate insults from anyone. He'd made that decision after leaving home.

  He wasn't sure but thought Buster, who had returned to the counter, may have gulped.

  “Don't be insolent.”

  “No offence meant, Ms. Lawrence, but you don't need to glare at me, I'm not the enemy.” She may be a terrifying woman, but she wasn't anything to him, and now that he'd retrieved his backbone he wasn't about to let her intimidate him. He'd been raised by a man who would eat her up and spit her out.

  “Pleasant change to see a man with a backbone!”

  Brad watched her turn and scowl at Buster, who immediately began wiping down the counter.

  “Not bothering that boy are you, Millicent?”

  A big woman was now walking toward their table. Her brows met in the middle as she glared down at them. She had gray hair and eyes, and Brad had seen her around town, but not up close.

  “Course not, we're just talking about the Buchanan land, Henrietta.”

  “And?”

  “Rare bird could be the key.”

  “See that it is.”

  It was like listening to men conversing. No embellishment or hand waving, just the facts.

  Billy, Brad noted, remained quiet, watching. Smart boy that one. He knew when to lie low.

  “Name's Henrietta Roberts Haigh.” The woman turned back to him suddenly and stuck out her hand. His was then pumped several times hard. “I'm in the book club, and we want this business stopped.”

  He'd heard about the power this book club wielded in town.

  “I believe Newman and the others are working on the matter also, ma'am.”

  “Good, and you too I believe. Saw how you stood up to that big city lawyer.”

  She spat out the words big city as if they tasted foul.

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “You look after our girl.”

  “I—ah—”

  “She's a good one, and been hurt before. See you treat her right.”

  “Oh, I ah—”

  “We'll be off then, but another meeting of those working on the Buchanan land mutilation will take place at 1800 hours at my house this coming Tuesday.”

  He wanted to salute, but as he'd never been in the services he wasn't sure he’d get it right, and had a feeling this woman would know the difference.

  “Pass our thoughts on to Macy. I understand her father has taken a turn for the worse,” Henrietta Roberts Haigh then said, before nodding to Millicent Lawrence, who took that as some kind of sign, as she got to her feet.

  Brad fell into the seat as the two women walked out the door, taking all the air with them.

  Buster arrived seconds later.

  “Holy crap, you okay? Sorry, Billy, erase that word from your memory.”

  “Mom says crap all the time.”

  “Bet she doesn't talk with her mouth full though,” Buster added, which made Billy snuffle.

  “I feel violated,” Brad said, wondering what the hell had just happened. “And they never laid a hand on me.”

  “I can't believe Militant approves of you. If that don't beat all. Wait until I tell the others.”

  “That's approval?” Brad was fairly sure he looked dazed.

  “Tell us what?”

  Ethan, Newman, and Annabelle walked in, the latter pushing a stroller with the McBride baby inside.

  “This place is like living in a sitcom,” Brad muttered. “Everybody hanging out in the local café, nosing about in everyone's business.”

  No one took any notice of him, and soon chairs were pulled close, tables moved, and Rosie was placed in a highchair next to Billy, who proceeded to break up small bits of muffin and place them in the little girl’s mouth, which earned him a wide smile.

  Buster filled them in on the meeting time at Ms. Roberts Haigh’s place, and Brad learned she was nicknamed HRH, which suited her perfectly.

  “Some kind of bird, Militant said,” Buster added. “Think it may be a rare one.”

  “You need to know that our father won't stop until he gets what he wants.” Brad didn't yell the words, but everyone heard him. “He'll do what it takes to get at Ethan and me, and if this fails, he'll find something else.”

  “Then we'll fight that.” Annabelle shrugged. “He's one man, Brad, and we have both his sons to fight him with. He doesn't
wield that much power.”

  Ethan looked at him then, and an understanding passed between them. EG would strike at them by any means he could.

  “So, why have you got Billy, Brad?”

  “Granddad’s sick, and Brad was visiting Razzle, so he stayed to watch me.”

  “Me and Billy the kid here are planting a garden.” Brad ruffled the boy’s hair.

  “Yeah?” Newman got to his feet. “We've been at her for ages to brighten that monstrosity up.”

  “Why didn't you just do it?”

  “We tried a time or two, even brought over paint colors, but she just kind of brushes you off.”

  Ethan lowered his voice so Billy couldn't hear. “I hate that place, it's as austere as the day he left. Macy hates it too, but like she said, no one is going to buy it, so she's stuck there. The only person in town who likes it is her mother.”

  Newman looked at Brad then the others.

  “She's going through a tough time with her dad, and from what Jake said his time is running out. Shall we give it a makeover today?”

  He wasn't sure how his buying a few plants had turned into everyone doing a makeover at Macy’s, but Brad rolled with it.

  They purchased plants and other stuff that he couldn't identify, and Brad thought that maybe he'd enjoy having friends like this one day. People that you shared your life with on a weekly basis.

  He thought about Macy then, and pulling out his cell phone, sent her a text to say Billy was doing great and he was with the others now. No reply came, and he hoped she wasn't suffering too much.

  DJ O'Donnell arrived with a can of paint when they had been back at Macy's a while.

  “What the hell are you going to do with that?”

  “Paint something,” he said to Ethan.

  “What?”

  “I'm thinking that front door for starters.”

  Brad gave up worrying about what Macy would think and went inside to make coffee, because Newman was bellyaching he needed one. Weird, how he felt comfortable walking in and out of this house as if he lived here.

  Billy was in heaven. He and Razzle galloped around the backyard, laughing and going from person to person. Rosie was asleep in her stroller, although God knew how with the noise going on outside.

  They'd decided on a garden by the drive so Macy could see it as she drove up. Annabelle and Newman were arguing over the exact plant placement, Ethan was running interference, and a young boy called Mikey Tucker had arrived and was put to digging holes.

  The phone rang as Brad was pouring water over the grinds.

  “Hello, Reynolds residence.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  Brad had a feeling he knew who this was, but until he had proof he wouldn't tell the man exactly what he thought of him.

  “A friend. Who are you?”

  “Her husband, you fucker! And if you think she'll put out for anyone but me, then think again!”

  Brad's blood went from simmer to boiling.

  “You listen to me, you sick fuck. You are never getting near her again, because I'm making sure of that. Take your pathetic scare tactics and go find yourself a nice little friend in that cell you're calling home these days.”

  Brad made himself cut off the call before he said more.

  “Nice work.”

  Ethan stood in the doorway.

  “I shouldn't have said any of that.” Brad unclenched his fists and got out the milk.

  “I'm not so sure about that.” Brad felt Ethan moving around behind him, taking down mugs. “Brian knows she has us, but none of us have ever been able to get at him to intimidate him. I think it's a good thing he now knows she's got someone watching over her.”

  “What else did he do to her?”

  “He abused her in a cold, calculating manner, and in such a way that none of us ever knew he was. He never left marks, and from what Annabelle tells me, it was physical, but the physiological stuff was just as bad.”

  “She vacuums at least twice a day.”

  Ethan whistled. “I thought that had stopped.”

  Brad leaned on the bench and took the mug. It was his third cup for the day, but what the hell, he needed it.

  “I asked her why and she said she didn't know, it was just one of the things that was still inside her. He used to come home and put on white gloves and run them over the furniture to test for dust.”

  “I wish he'd taken that bullet and not Branna,” Ethan snarled.

  “You guys all disliked her, right?”

  “She was like this prissy homecoming queen when I first met her. Kind of fake. Poofy hair, layers of makeup, tight clothes, and sky-high heels. Her smile never reached her eyes and she even spoke differently,” Ethan said. “It was Branna who found her.”

  Brad listened as Ethan talked and filled in the gaps about Macy.

  “She's strong now.”

  “I've never thought of her as strong, so it came as a shock when you said that.”

  Brad looked at his brother.

  “Nothing's going to happen between us, Ethan. Billy's her focus, and I have my own agenda. So we're calling it at friendship.”

  Ethan shrugged.

  “Be a shame to call it that if it could be more, but you're both adults, so it's not my place to interfere.”

  “Like hell,” Brad muttered pushing off the bench, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  Macy held her father’s cold hand in both of hers. Jake had his on her shoulder, the warmth seeping into her body, but doing nothing to fight back the numbness.

  She'd been sitting here for three hours, they all had. Her mother sat on the other side, mascara smeared, lipstick gone, looking pale and shaken. Macy could honestly say that this was the first time she had ever seen her mother crying real tears. The first time she had seen vulnerability in Delany Reynolds.

  Nancy McBride, Jake's mom, stood behind her.

  Macy watched her father inhale, and the exhale seemed to take forever.

  “Delany, he doesn't have long now,” Nancy said softly.

  Her mother staggered to her feet and bent over the bed. She whispered something, and then kissed her husband softly on the lips before collapsing back into her seat.

  “Your turn, sweetheart.”

  Macy looked up at Jake, saw the sympathy, and nodded. She leaned over her father, listened as he tried to draw in another breath.

  “I love you so much, Dad. Let go now, we're going to be just fine. You taught us to be strong. Let go and be at peace.”

  Tears poured down her cheeks as her father inhaled, his breath like a rattle, and she knew that it would be his last.

  The sob came out loud and anguished, but Macy didn't hold back. She wept for the man who had raised her. He may not have been perfect, but he was hers and had been the one man in her life who she had loved since she was old enough to understand the emotion.

  She felt Jake's hands on her shoulders, and then turned and fell into his arms.

  “It's okay now, Macy, he's not in pain anymore.”

  The Doctors McBride took over while Macy and her mother sat huddled together on the sofa. She didn't know who made the call, but thirty minutes after her father had left the house, Delany Reynolds’ friends started arriving.

  Macy had never been overly fond of Peggy Miller and Tyree Little, but today they surprised her. They hugged her, and patted her head, then told her that they would look after her mother, so she wasn't to worry.

  Jake and his mother had to leave, but as they did Branna arrived, and Macy clung to her friend. Branna was the first person to understand the hell Macy had been living, and ever since they'd been close.

  “Branna, you take Macy home to her boy now. We'll look after Delany tonight, and if she wants her daughter, we'll come over and collect her.”

  “No.” Macy looked at Tyree. “I don't want to leave her.”

  “Macy, your boy needs you, and you need him. Now give your mother a hug and then go on home with Branna.”


  “Mother, I don't have to leave.”

  Delany's eyes were swollen from weeping, and she hugged Macy close.

  “You go home to Billy now, Macy. He will be confused if you don't arrive, and I-I'll call you if I n-need you. Tyree and Peggy are going to stay here with me tonight, but I'd like to see Billy in the morning.”

  “If you're sure?”

  “I am. Tomorrow we'll organize the f-funeral.”

  Branna led Macy outside, and she drew in a deep lungful of air. The sun warmed her face, but she felt cold inside. Her father was dead. She wouldn't hear his laugh or bring him his favorite cookies anymore.

  “In you get, Macy.”

  She let Branna belt her into the seat, and then rested her head on the back. They drove in silence, but it was good to be with someone who knew her, someone she trusted. Her head could not quite process the fact that the world no longer had Harvey Reynolds in it.

  “They're all at your place, Macy.”

  She'd known her friends would be; it was their way. If one of them was hurting, then they were there for that person. She saw the cars as she drove up, then the garden with pretty flowers, and the tears started again.

  “Oh God, they b-built me a garden.”

  Brad appeared in the doorway as Branna switched off the ignition. His blue eyes looked at her through the windscreen and then he was walking.

  “That gene pool is just damn hot.” Branna sighed. “He swaggers like Ethan.”

  Macy's laugh was half a sob. Her door opened and then there he was, crouching before her.

  “Hey.”

  “H-hey.”

  “I'm sorry, baby.”

  “M-me too.”

  She felt Branna unclick her belt and then she was falling sideways into his arms. He eased back and sat on the drive holding her. He rested his head on hers, closed her inside his embrace, and simply held her. She felt the numbing cold slowly ease as he replaced it with warmth.

  “He's not hurting now, honey. The pain's gone and he has peace.”

  “I-I know.”

  “It’s the people left behind who suffer.”

  Macy wasn't sure how long she sat there huddled on his lap. Probably longer than she should, especially with her friends waiting for her inside.