A Shattered Moment

by Tiffany King

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said as the doorbell chimed. “That’s Bentley. Wish me luck,” I added, grabbing my cane.

  “They’re going to love you.”

  “Right,” I muttered skeptically. I swung the door open, revealing a completely delectable Bentley. Thanks to the mild temperatures that had moved in the day before, he was wearing a light sweater that wasn’t tight, but still defined his chest and arms, making him appear wider than usual. The black in the sweater made his eyes seem darker and his lips somehow lusher. I thought about how pleasant they had felt hours before. Too bad we had to waste all the delectableness on a group of people I’d never met.

  “Don’t you look pretty in pink,” Bentley said, sliding his arms around me.

  “Is that supposed to be a joke?” The smirk on his face made me cynical of his sincerity.

  “Sorry. You know what a John Hughes fan I am. I couldn’t let that one slide.” He laughed. “I’m not taking you to an execution, by the way,” he added, taking in my expression.

  “I’d prefer that.” I called out a good-bye to Mom as I left the house reluctantly.

  nineteen

  Bentley

  Mac looked like she wanted to jump from the moving vehicle as she twisted her hands in her lap. It was a little funny at first, but now I was beginning to feel like a dick for asking her to do something she didn’t want to do. After dodging a bullet at dinner the day before, I knew this was the best way to get my family off my back. It was like ripping off a Band-Aid. After meeting Mac, they’d see for themselves that I was crazy about her, and it would save me from having to articulate it.

  “You sure you wouldn’t rather go to a movie by ourselves?” she offered as we drove.

  “I definitely would,” I said, smiling at her hopeful look. “Just not today.”

  Her smile dropped. “Besides, we’re meeting them for lunch first.” I patted her knee as we turned into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant.

  “Oh, shit,” she said like I’d told her we were going to the dentist or something.

  “Is that okay?”

  “Well, yeah. It’s just that I ate breakfast kind of late. I’m going to look like an idiot sitting there while everyone else is eating.”

  “Babe,” I laughed, “it’s cool. I won’t order anything either. I’ll say it was my fault, that we just had Starbucks or whatever.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do that. I’ll order a salad.”

  “It’ll be fine. They’re loud but harmless. I’ll be right there with you,” I said to reassure her.

  “Maybe you won’t find a parking spot.” She looked hopeful as I drove down each row without finding a single space open. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on her side. I spotted an older couple backing out their Towncar.

  “Crap,” she grumbled, slumping back in her seat.

  “Ready?” I laughed, pulling into the space and turning my car off.

  “I’m hoping for a quick death,” she muttered, opening her door.

  We were halfway across the parking lot when I noticed that Mac seemed to be putting a great deal of effort into trying not to limp. She held me tightly with one hand while her other hand gripped her cane tight enough to make the knuckles white.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, stopping on the sidewalk to face her.

  She looked confused. “What do you mean? We’re walking inside.”

  “Why are you trying so hard to hide your limp?”

  “I am not.” She tried to deny it, but I pointed to her hands.

  “Mac, seriously? Look at your knuckles.” In her stubbornness, she refused to look down at the irrefutable evidence.

  “Whatever. I was doing it for you. Introducing your girlfriend to your family for the first time is awkward enough without me limping around like Quasimodo.”

  I sighed at her words. Was it really worth it for me to put her through this much stress? If she wasn’t ready to meet my family, I’d only make things worse by forcing her. “Let’s go,” I said, tugging her back toward the car. I would call Mom later and tell her we got hung up.

  “What?”

  “Let’s go somewhere else. I can get us out of this,” I told her, tugging at her again. She wouldn’t budge as she dug her feet in.

  “No,” she said, straightening her spine. “I’m whining, but I can do this,” she added, turning back toward the entrance. “I have to do this.”

  She started walking, still clutching my hand tightly. At least she wasn’t trying so hard to hide her limp now. Her nerves were starting to rub off on me, and even I was beginning to worry. I knew my family would love Mac, but I was now afraid of how they would react to her cane. They wouldn’t say anything stupid, but I was more afraid of the initial looks. I should have been less of an evasive asshole the day before and explained things when I had the chance. I didn’t need them gawking at her.

  As we turned the corner toward the main entrance, I spotted my sister, Allie, standing discreetly outside the restaurant smoking a cigarette. She looked surprised when she saw me, trying to put the cigarette into the receptacle by the door. “Allie?” I greeted her as we approached.

  “Hey, Bentley,” she answered with smoke exiting her mouth.

  “Since when do you smoke?”

  “Since whenever. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Do Mom and Dad know?” I asked the question, but I already knew the answer.

  “Oh, I’m sure they will now, won’t they? I mean, you are the Boy Scout,” she hissed. “I’m Allie, by the way,” she said to Mac with her fake smile painted on her face. “The bad child.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Mac answered. The tension between Allie and me didn’t make the introduction any easier.

  After Allie started middle school, our relationship as brother and sister became dicey at best. We didn’t seem to understand each other anymore after that. It didn’t help that Mom and Dad were always on her case and expected me to be an example for her.

  We followed Allie inside, where everyone was seated at a long table in the far corner of the restaurant. I could tell right away the size of our group overwhelmed Mac. Yet another thing I should have mentioned. I was obviously trying for asshole of the year.

  Mom stepped in, automatically sensing Mac’s discomfort. I guess you’d call that motherly instincts maybe? Her eyes never once moved to Mac’s cane. I should have known. Taking Mac under her wing, Mom took charge of introducing her to the family like they were old friends. Watching the scene from Mac’s perspective, I could see how our loud and boisterous behavior could be intimidating. Growing up with it had obviously made me immune.

  Mac and I sat next to each other through the meal. No one noticed that she barely ate her salad, or at least if they did, no one commented. After a while, she began to feel more comfortable and was able to answer the many questions being fired at her. I intervened anytime they got too personal.

  “So, what’s with the cane?” Allie blurted out, silencing everyone at the table. I couldn’t believe she had gone there. Mac looked to the floor, completely unprepared for the ambush.

  “Allie James, that is personal and none of your concern,” Mom scolded her. Allie remained unfazed as she looked at me ominously before turning back to Mac.

  “I mean, if it’s a trendy thing you’re going for, it works. Especially with the limp. Do you spend a lot of time practicing that?”

  I jumped from my chair, ready to wring her neck. Dad grabbed my arm to stop me. “Allie, you can wait in the car,” he said, pointing toward the door.

  “Of course!” she snapped. “Because Bentley is perfect, right? He brings his crippled girlfriend to lunch and we’re all supposed to fall all over her and feel sorry for her.”

  “Allie, get the fuck out!” I yelled, attracting the attention of the rest of the restaurant, including the manager, who came over. I couldn’t help myself. Allie had pushed me over the edge. She left the table with her phone at her ear, having accomplished what she
wanted. Mac, who looked like she had been dropped in a tank of ice-cold water, stood up and left as quickly as her limp would allow. My mom tried to call after her, but it was too late.

  I went after her, not even sure what I would say. This was my fault for dragging Mac here. I should have listened in the first place instead of thinking I knew what was best for her.

  I stepped outside to see Mac’s retreating backside making a beeline for the car. Allie was standing next to a bench on the sidewalk, talking on her phone and smiling with satisfaction as she watched Mac walk away. Still pissed, I snatched the phone from her hand and smashed it against the asphalt, scaring the shit out of some poor old couple approaching the door.

  “You asshole!” Allie yelled, seeing her phone in pieces on the ground. She stormed back into the restaurant while I raced after Mac.

  “Mac, I don’t even know what to say,” I said, rushing to her side. I couldn’t get a read on her expression. She didn’t look mad or happy or anything in between. Her face was blank.

  “Can you just get me out of here, please?” She backed away from the car so I could open the door for her. She lowered herself quickly into the seat and closed the door, not even caring that I was still in the way.

  I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car, but hesitated before backing out. “Mac, I—”

  “Bentley, just drive,” she interrupted.

  “Sure,” I answered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I drove toward her house wondering if this would be it for us. I wanted to make a case for myself, but at the moment it seemed pointless. Mac stared directly ahead with her arms crossed across her chest.

  “So, your family was nice,” she said, breaking the silence. She caught me off guard and I wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly. “Well, except your sister. Don’t take this the wrong way, but fuck her.”

  I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t tell if she was being facetious or if she was serious. “Hey, no offense taken. That was pretty much my sentiment, too. So, are you okay, or do you, you know, want to talk about it?”

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not mad like I thought I would be. I think getting the hell out of the restaurant was more of a reflex action, but after thinking about it for a few minutes, I kind of realized that this is my life.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” I said.

  “People are always going to stare and look at me differently. There’s nothing I can do about it. For the rest of my life, I’ll just have to put up with it.”

  “Mac. There’s no way I’d ever tell you how to feel, but no one in there was looking at you differently. As for my idiot sister, that was more an attack on me than you. Trust me. My parents will make her pay. Even more than I did.”

  “What do you mean, more than you did?”

  “Let’s put it this way, my dad’s still probably helping her find the broken pieces of her phone.”

  “You didn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Bentley, you shouldn’t have done that.”

  “What?” I asked incredulously. “I did it for you, to defend your honor or whatever.”

  “I didn’t ask you to smash your sister’s phone. Believe me, if I can’t handle an insult from a bratty teenager, what hope do I have?”

  “Well, shit. I don’t even know what to say. I mean, you sound okay, I guess?”

  “Whether I am or not, it’s not your job to come to my rescue every time you think I need saving, or fix me if you think I’m broken.”

  “It’s in my nature. Hell, it’s what I do for a living. I have to help,” I said, trying to justify my actions.

  “Well, if we are going to be together, then you’ll have to get over it. Just be there. That’s it.”

  “So, we’re good then?” I asked. I was at least happy to hear her describe us as “together” still.

  “Sure. I’ve gotten used to being carried around, so you’re stuck now.”

  “What about all that talk about not saving you or fixing you? Now you still expect me to carry you?” I teased.

  “Why do you think I said ‘just be there’? I need your muscle.” She smiled.

  “Well, it’s nice to be needed in some way, I guess.”

  “I did like your mom and your cousin. What was his name again?”

  “Grant. Yeah, he’s cool. We were thick growing up even though he’s a couple years older than me. I do remember being jealous, though, because he got to do all the cool stuff before me. Eventually I realized the benefits of having an older cousin,” I said, flashing a wicked grin.

  “Meaning?”

  “Older chicks and scoring booze before I was old enough. Well, before he was old enough, too, but he had older friends, so it all rolled our way. We got caught so many times that Grant was on my mom’s shit list for a long time. Now it’s funny to see her singing a different tune since Grant will be popping out a baby.”

  “Really? I didn’t realize your cousin had the equipment to ‘pop out’ a baby.”

  “Sorry. I meant his wife, Devyn, will be popping out a baby.”

  “Word to the wise: I’d refrain from referring to it as ‘popping out’ when she’s around. I’m not sure pregnant women like that phrase. It’s kind of gross.”

  “Good point. In my experience women get a little testy about that kind of stuff when they’re about to have a baby.”

  “Have you had a lot of experience with women in labor?” she asked as I steered the car toward our next destination.

  “I’ve seen a few babies born out on calls, but I haven’t actually delivered one myself. It’s definitely a life-changing moment.”

  “That’s pretty awesome. I guess I assumed you only handled bad calls.”

  “Actually, most of them aren’t life-or-death situations. For the most part, people just need our assistance, like a grandma who fell and broke a hip, or a kid who tried to fly out of a tree and broke his leg. One time we had a little girl who had an asthma attack and her mom didn’t have an inhaler.”

  “So you really are like a hero,” she joked.

  “Hell yeah. You’re looking at Batman right here,” I said, flexing a muscle.

  “And so modest. Where are we going, by the way?” She looked out her window, taking in the surroundings as we passed.

  “Well, I figured the movie was out. To tell you the truth, for a while I was just driving around without taking you home, hoping I could get you to talk to me. I thought now we could walk on the beach a little. It’s such a nice day. It should be pretty pleasant,” I said, heading toward my favorite beach spot. It was more of a private beach access, farther down the coastline from the large hotels, so it was hardly ever crowded. “Is that cool?” We approached a secluded parking lot that not many people knew about. I found out about it from a friend who works beach patrol.

  “Yeah, it’s just been a while since I’ve been to the beach.” She climbed tentatively from the car after I parked. The breeze off the ocean whipped her hair around her face until she gathered it in her hand behind her head. She studied the long expansion of sand that led to the water.

  “Are you okay? We can go somewhere else. I figured after everything that happened today, you could use a little space.”

  “No, this is okay,” she said, removing her shoes before stepping onto the sand. Her cane sank slightly as she probed for harder ground. That was why she’d been hesitant about the beach. She didn’t know how to tell me I was a dumb-ass. I moved to her side with the intention of scooping her into my arms when she held up a hand to stop me.

  “I just need to get to the hard-packed sand. Can you help me get there?” she asked, holding out her free hand.

  She stumbled slightly a time or two, but with my firm grip on her hand, we made it out of the soft sand without falling. I expected the proud look she had on her face when she had navigated the stairs at the arena, but instead, she looked troubled and wasn’t saying much.

  I was dying to know what she was thinking, but Mac was like listening to a for
eign language without a translator. I was clueless.

  “Did you know we came to the beach graduation night?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  I shook my head. Now I understood.

  She moved to a dry spot in the sand and I helped her lower herself down so she could watch the waves roll in. I joined her, draping my hoodie over her shoulders when I noticed her shivering slightly in the breeze. She reached down for a handful of sand, letting it drift away in the wind.

  “You know what sucks the most? It’s going to sound completely selfish and totally bitchy . . .” She paused, grabbing another handful of sand. I waited patiently for her to continue. Despite myself, I was curious about her life before the accident. “The part that sucks the most is I’m tired of being sad. I’m also fucking sick of all the firsts. We used to come to the beach all the time. Especially after Zach got his license. Almost every Saturday or Sunday, we’d load up in that Suburban and stay there all day. It was where we could let loose, you know?” She paused to toss a seashell into the waves that rolled in and out with the tide. “Graduation night we went to the beach to celebrate. It was part of an agenda we’d made months before. Graduation night was supposed to be perfect.”

  I continued to listen without commenting, placing an arm around her shoulders.

  “I’m so damn sick of being sad,” she repeated, nestling close to me.

  “I know.” There were no words that would take away what she was feeling. Grief was a greedy bastard. I felt hopeless listening to her talk. In spite of what she had said in the car earlier, I wanted to protect her from harm, but she was facing a monster I couldn’t save her from. Instead, I was forced to sit at her side while it ripped out my guts.

  “I’m sorry I brought you here. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,” I whispered after she fell silent.

  “I’m not. I’ve wanted to come for a while. I can’t believe it’s been over a year. A year of missing the sound of the hard rolling waves during high tide, a year of missing the scent of the briny sea air, the way the cool sand feels after the sun goes down,” she said, digging her toes in the sand. “I can’t believe it’s been over a year,” she repeated.