Holding On

by Sarah Hadley Brook

  “I’m sorry for your loss, sir,” Jeff said to my grandpa before grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the elevator. I looked at our joined hands and back up at him, but he just kept walking.

  By the time we reached his truck, I was too tired and drained to think about why he hadn’t let go of my hand. He held my door open and I climbed inside, staring out the windshield.

  Jeff slid into the passenger side and started the truck. “Seatbelt,” he reminded me.

  I sat frozen. I’d heard his words, but I couldn’t sort them out in my head. All I could see was my mom in that hospital bed. Dead. I felt like I was drowning.

  He reached around me, pulling the seatbelt across my lap and chest, and clicking it in place. I tried to say “thanks,” but the word wouldn’t form, so I lost myself in my own head.

  I wondered if my father knew. Probably not yet. Would he even care?

  When we reached Jeff’s house, I climbed out, following him inside, up the stairs and into his room. My movements felt robotic. Foreign. As if moving my own limbs was too much and someone was moving them for me.

  I sank onto the mattress and leaned back, my feet still on the floor. I was aware of Jeff talking, but I wasn’t sure what he said. He pulled me to a sitting position, then tugged off my shirt before he removed my shoes and helped me slide out of my pants. For a moment, I felt foolish letting him undress me, but exhaustion overwhelmed me and I rolled onto my side, facing away. I welcomed the shelter sleep would bring.

  The bed dipped as Jeff climbed in beside me. “I’m really sorry, Aaron.”

  I tried to shrug, but I wasn’t sure if I really did. He scootched close to me. He slid an arm under my head and draped the other over my waist until we were spooning tightly. I closed my eyes and sleep came. Jeff whispered something to me, but I was already gone. It was all too much. The worst day of my life had finally come to an end.

  Chapter 6

  The room was quiet when I woke up the next day, and for the briefest moment, I forgot my mom had died. I stretched and opened my eyes, and it all came rushing back. Tears sprang to my eyes and I swiped at them, furious.

  I was mad now. Still sad, but angry. How could my mom be gone? After all she had gone through, it seemed so unfair. Hate surged through me, directed at only one person: my father. He did this. Her death was his fault. The authorities would know that, right? I was supposed to meet with the detective and the prosecutor this week, but that might change now.

  I rolled over and noticed I was alone. A quick glance at my phone told me it was almost noon. Shit! I had to get over to the hotel to meet with my grandparents and Pamela.

  Jeff walked in as I was getting ready to head into the bathroom to take a shower. He seemed surprised to see me awake.

  “You need anything?”

  “Just a shower and a ride to the hotel.”

  “Sure. No problem. Mom fixed pancakes earlier. I’ll heat you up some, okay?”

  “No, thanks. I’m not hungry,” I told him, irritation rising for some reason.

  Jeff remained silent for a moment. “Okay, but you know my mom isn’t going to let you out of here without eating something.”

  “Shit, Jeff, I’m eighteen. I don’t need you or your mom babysitting me.” I didn’t look him in the eye, but I felt him watching. “What?” I barked.

  “Nothing. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

  It pissed me off that he was going to drive me, but I wasn’t really sure why. Logically, I knew he was only being helpful and kind. Unfortunately, I was just pissed at the entire world. “Fine.” I pushed past him toward the bathroom.

  * * * *

  Jeff was right about his mom. She was adamant I eat something, so I finally grabbed a pancake and a sausage link, rolled them up together and took a bite. Honestly, it tasted like sawdust, but I didn’t care. I grabbed a soda before we left.

  Silence filled the truck as he pulled out of the neighborhood toward the highway. I chewed quickly and chugged my soda, staring out the window.

  “I called the theater and told them what happened. You just need to call Robert when you decide you’re ready to go back to work. I also took off a few days.”

  “Why?” I turned to look at him.

  He flinched, like what I said hurt him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know why you do anything, Jeff. I’m not your keeper. I can’t read your mind.”

  His sharp intake of breath was his only response, and that pushed me to the edge. Not that I could explain why. Deciding that ignoring him was best for now, I scrolled through my phone. I had several texts I hadn’t answered. A couple from Jon asking how it went with Jeff. Might as well answer it now.

  Me: Didn’t get to talk to him. My mom died last night.

  Jon: Shit man! Sorry! U ok?

  Me: No. But I will be. Meeting grandparents in a few minutes.

  Jon: K. Let me know if u need anything.

  Me: K.

  We arrived at the hotel and Jeff parked instead of dropping me at the door.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  His eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t want me to come in?”

  “No,” I said flatly. “I’ll get a ride to your house from one of my grandparents.”

  He paled. “Okay, Aaron. If that’s what you want.”

  I turned to open the door and he placed his hand on my upper arm. “Let me know if you need anything, Aaron. Anything.” His voice was rough. Strained. I knew I was hurting him, but I needed to be away from him. I didn’t really know why, and at the moment, I didn’t care. So I nodded and climbed out of the car. I went inside without looking back.

  * * * *

  The whole day sucked. Everything about it. Grandma cried. Pamela cried. Grandpa cried. I didn’t, but I fought the tears all day. Nothing went well. Food tasted like crap. I missed my mom so much, it hurt. She had always been there for me.

  Every time I remembered how I had almost not seen her the day before, I wanted to vomit. My mom had been in the hospital, beaten to a bloody pulp, and I’d been caught up in my drama with Jeff. What kind of son did that? I hated myself so much, I shook.

  My grandparents made arrangements for the memorial service. They’d decided not to have a funeral because she was being cremated. Her ashes would be scattered at a later date with just immediate family. School was starting back in two days, so they left a voicemail with the attendance department for me, telling them I would be out for a day or two.

  A day or two…is that how long it takes to get over the death of your mother?

  Pamela stayed in bed almost the entire day, getting up to eat dinner only when our grandpa ordered her to do so. She hugged her pillow, just as she used to do when she was younger, and sat at the edge of the bed, nibbling her chicken nuggets.

  I sat next to her, taking a bite of my cheeseburger. We remained silent as we ate, while our grandparents watched the news. They looked exhausted.

  “Will you stay with us tonight?”

  Pamela’s question broke through my thoughts. She looked so sad, yet I saw a flash of hope in her eyes. Her life was going to change so much more than mine. I was graduating. I was going to college, whether locally or away, I wasn’t sure yet. She was going to live with our grandparents permanently, leaving behind her friends for good. If she wanted me to stay the night, I would. “Yes.”

  Her grateful smile warmed me, and I smiled back. The day had been extremely hard for me. The weight of my grandparents’ despair was almost stifling. I finished my cheeseburger and threw away the trash.

  “Grandma and Grandpa! Guess what? Aaron’s going to spend the night!” Pamela was happy for the first time since before Mom’s death, so I pasted on another smile.

  “That’s great. We can have the staff send up a roll-away bed for you,” my grandpa told me.

  Pamela’s face fell. “No, this bed is big enough. He can stay here.”

  I shrugged. “She’s right. No big deal.”
>
  “That’s fine. Don’t forget to let Jeff know you won’t be back tonight.”

  Jeff. I had been able to push thoughts of him out of my mind throughout most of the day, but now, irritation slithered down my spine. I sighed and pulled out my phone to text him. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to him.

  I saw he’d texted several times throughout the day.

  You doing ok? Need me to run anything by?

  How’s Pamela doing?

  Please talk to me, Aaron. Please.

  I sighed and stared at the phone. I didn’t know what to say. It all seemed so trivial. My feelings were all over the place. Anger, sadness, loneliness, and even despair. Possibly losing my best friend at the time I needed him the most was almost too much to bear.

  I texted…

  Staying at hotel tonight.

  And quickly hit SEND. Within seconds Jeff texted back.

  Need me to run some clothes by? Phone charger?

  Shit. I did need my charger. Maybe I could have my grandpa run me over. One glance at him told me that was not a good idea. He was crying again and Grandma was whispering to him. Dammit. I hated asking Jeff, but I needed my charger. Then I remembered my sister had the same type of phone.

  “Pam, can I borrow your charger? Do you have it here?”

  “Sure, it’s right here. My phone’s charged.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I texted him back…

  I can use Pamela’s.

  It wasn’t until about ten minutes later when I got the next text.

  Okay. Goodnight Aaron. If you need ANYTHING, please call me. I am here for you. I am so very sorry about your mom.

  I stared at his words for a minute before I turned off the phone and climbed to the top of the bed. I set a pillow behind my back and Pamela lay next to me. I clicked from the news program on TV to one of our favorite shows. She snuggled up as I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and we quietly watched without talking.

  When the program ended, I looked down to see Pamela silently crying. I didn’t know what to say, so I pulled her closer and hugged her tight.

  “Do you think Mom can see us?” she whispered.

  I wasn’t sure what I thought about that. While we had never really attended church regularly, I believed in a God—some sort of omnipotent being—but did that mean those who passed could still see this world? Deciding truth would be better than placating her, I answered, “I’m not sure what happens after we die. But I know one thing for sure.”

  She looked up at me and wiped her tears. “What?”

  I gave her a wobbly smile and brushed away a new tear from her cheek. “I know Mom loved us and she knew we loved her. No doubt about it.”

  Pamela nodded before closing her eyes and snuggling in. Her breathing evened out pretty quickly as she fell asleep, but I didn’t want to let go yet.

  Grandpa sat down on the edge of the bed. “Aaron, I need to talk to you about something. Not sure if Pamela should hear this yet.”

  I nodded. “She’s asleep.”

  He sighed, rubbing his face with the heels of his hands. He looked exhausted. Grandpa stared at the wall for a minute and I waited, my nerves on edge. Somehow I knew whatever he was going to say would be big.

  “The prosecutor called and spoke with your grandma and me. They’re charging your father with murder.”

  “They should. He killed her!”

  Grandpa placed his hand on my knee. “Yes, son, he did. But he’s your father and I wanted to make sure you knew what was going on. They—the prosecutor and such—need to interview you and Pamela again. Now that charges are changing, the case is a little different.”

  “Okay. When?”

  “The day after the memorial service.”

  Okay. The memorial service is in two days, so in three days. I can do that.

  “They want to re-interview Jeff, too, so can you let him know?”

  At the mention of his name, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Anger roiled up and I pressed my lips together. “Sure,” I told him, trying my best to sound fine with it.

  Grandpa didn’t seem to notice anything wrong, thank goodness. I didn’t want to explain my anger. Hell, I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t completely understand why I was so upset with Jeff anymore. Seeds of doubt had begun to spring to life in my mind, wondering if I was misjudging him over his reaction at the party. He’d tried to tell me it wasn’t because he’d been ashamed of me, but it had something to do with Jon. Had he said something about being…jealous? Jealous of what? Had I heard him correctly? I doubt it. I’d been so blinded by rage and despair, I hadn’t be able to make sense of his words. Plus, he had been crying, so his voice had been weak, had sounded muffled, and I hadn’t let him get it all out. And that’s when I’d received the call about Mom.

  Now, at the sound of renewed sobbing, I saw Grandma sitting in her bed, pressing a tissue to her face. Grandpa patted my leg and told me he loved me before going to comfort her.

  I slid away from Pamela and pulled the covers over her. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t care about sleeping in her clothes—I would be doing the same.

  Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get to sleep. Memories of my mom flooded my thoughts as I tossed and turned all night. I finally gave up at three in the morning and slipped out of the room to go downstairs to the hotel lobby.

  I found several tan, cushy sofas placed throughout the area, along with blue patterned throw pillows and a few floral armchairs in matching colors. Blue and tan striped rugs lay scattered across the tiled floor. Other than the older woman at the counter, the lobby stood empty.

  I dropped down into the softness of a sofa facing the large floor-to-ceiling windows. I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked my messages. Not really too much. A few condolences from friends. Nothing new from Jeff.

  I missed him. I needed him now, more than ever. My mind drifted back to the night of the party. Had it really been only a little over twenty-four hours ago? Time ran together for me.

  Jeff had been crying and he’d apologized. I could understand and appreciate the apology, even if I wasn’t ready to forgive him. But that didn’t change the fact that I’d embarrassed him. He’d made that clear at the party. I even understood the tears because it was a sad situation. In a way, we were “breaking up.” We’d been so close for years, but his disgust at seeing me with Jon had been obvious. The only thing I couldn’t understand was why he’d said he was jealous of Jon. Was it because he thought Jon was going to replace him as my best friend?

  Tears fell as I wished my mom were still here to talk it over with me. She always knew what to say. “I miss you,” I whispered into the empty room. “I’m so…alone.”

  My phone pinged and I glanced at the screen. Jeff had texted me and his message was eerily close to my own feelings.

  Can’t sleep. Miss you.

  My fingers texted before I thought the matter through.

  Me: I’m awake too. So exhausted.

  Jeff: Want me to come over?

  Me: Yes.

  Jeff: Be there in a few.

  Why the hell had I done that? Fuck. I was torn between needing him and telling him to stay home. My fingers refused to budge, though, and the screen stayed blank. I needed him more than I wanted to continue to be angry with him. I was weak and I let the tears fall as I stared out the window, waiting for Jeff.

  I texted Pamela to tell her where I was just in case she woke up while I was downstairs. I didn’t want her to be scared. My head fell back against the sofa and I closed my eyes against the tears that seemed to spring up endlessly. Was this grief? God, I missed my mom.

  My father’s face came to mind and I clenched my hands. Pure rage ran through me and I hit the cushion next to me with my balled-up fist, wishing I were hitting him instead. For so many years, he had tormented us. He was a hateful human being and his anger had killed my mom. I used to wonder what made him that way, but now I didn’t care. I just wanted him to rot i
n jail.

  God, I had spent my life hiding myself from him. Pretending I was fine with how he treated me, Pamela, and Mom. Had my pretended apathy contributed to my mom’s death? I couldn’t bear it if that were the case.

  I pulled up my legs and hugged them, resting my head on my knees. Sobs tore through me and I squeezed my eyes shut again, trying to close out the painful memories.

  When the cushion next to me dipped, I opened my eyes to see Jeff lean in and wrap his arms around me.

  “I’m here, Aaron. I’m here.”

  I gave in to sobs as I clawed at his shirt. “She’s gone, Jeff.”

  “I know. I’m here. For anything you need.”

  Panic gripped me and I held him tight. “I know you hate me, but please don’t leave me, Jeff. I need you right now.”

  He tried to pull back, but I held tightly. I didn’t want to see his face. I just needed things to be like they were before the fight.

  “I don’t hate you, Aaron. I could never hate you,” he whispered, his lips brushing the top of my head.

  My heart slammed against my ribs as I realized I might not be losing my best friend after all. “I know we need to talk, but can we just…pretend everything is the same as before so I can get through this?”

  A long silence ensued before Jeff finally spoke. “We can do that, but things aren’t the same.”

  My heart shattered right then, and I felt the pieces break off and slice through my veins. I didn’t know what to do. I pulled away, and yet, I wanted to be in his arms. The paradox was more than I could handle. “You need to leave,” I ordered, my teeth clenched.

  His eyes widened in shock. “What’s wrong? I’m not going anywhere!”

  “What’s wrong?” I nearly shrieked. “What’s wrong?” I seethed as I stood and looked out the window, my arms crossed over my chest, before twirling around on him. “In the last week, my father beat my mom to a pulp, I came out to my best friend, my mom died, and now I’m losing my best friend! That’s what’s wrong!”

  The lady at the counter coughed.

  I cringed, realizing I was making a scene.

  Jeff stared open-mouthed before standing in front of me. He grabbed my arms and leaned down. “Now you listen to me, Aaron. You are not losing me! Haven’t you figured it out yet?” His voice came out in a quiet rush and his grip around my arms tightened. “I’m gay, Aaron! No matter what happens, you will never lose me!”