by Rye Hart
Now, I was on my way back to Austin. Back to my childhood home. Back to the place I was arrested. Back to the last place I saw Caroline Michaelson.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - CAROLINE
Stephanie sat down beside me with a drink already in her hand. I glanced at it and she shrugged, taking a sip and wiggling her eyebrows at me. We’d only been at the bar for five minutes and already, she’d managed to have a drink bought just for her. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the beer I paid for myself, taking a long drag and sighing deeply when I set it down.
There was something about being at a bar with Stephanie that was terrible for my ego. She was always able to woo the first man she saw, twirling her hair just right and mesmerizing him into blind submission. By the time we found a table, she was drinking for free, and the guy of the night was eyeing her hungrily from across the room.
Sure enough, when I glanced around, I saw some guy staring at her. He watched her closely, biting his lip and raking her body with his eyes. I coughed meaningfully and jerked my head toward him. Stephanie followed my gaze and then looked back at me with a grin.
“Is that him?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said with a nod.
“How do you do it?” I asked. “God, we’ve been here five seconds and you already had someone buy you a drink.”
“I’m just approachable,” Stephanie said with a shrug.
“And I’m not?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“You give off a ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ vibe,” Stephanie said.
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and took another drink. “I have a date later anyway.”
“Oh?” Stephanie asked. “You do?”
“Yup.” I nodded but didn’t elaborate. The date was a blind one, and I knew Stephanie wouldn’t approve.
Ever since I left Yale five years ago, my life had been all about pursuing my dreams. I didn’t make time for dating, not since Dean. As his face crossed my mind, I winced and shook my head. Tonight was not the night to reopen that old wound. Instead, I focused on Stephanie and smiled.
“I really think I’m going to move forward with the art gallery soon,” I said proudly.
“You are?” Stephanie asked, bouncing up and down with excitement. “But, how?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted. “But I have to try, don’t I?”
“Tell me the idea again,” Stephanie said.
“Okay.” I nodded and cleared my throat. “Basically, it’s an art gallery turned café. You know how bookstores always have coffee shops attached? Well, I want to do the same thing with art. The only difference is, I want to make it totally accessible to all kinds of art. Not just paintings and sculptures, but mosaics and live shows. I also want to have a stage where people can show their independently made movies and present their spoken word poetry.”
“That sounds amazing,” Stephanie said. “I would totally go somewhere like that.”
“I know!” I said with a grin. “When I left Yale to go to art school, I never thought I would end up here but now that I have, I can’t wait to get started. The only thing I need is money, which is not easy to come by.”
“Just ask your parents,” Stephanie said with a shrug. I glared at her, and she sighed. “I know you don’t get along with them but—”
“I actually discussed the idea with them yesterday,” I said.
“You did?” Stephanie raised her eyebrows in shock.
I nodded. “My mother said it’s a stupid pipe dream that I need to abandon. She told me my only hope in life is to marry rich and settle down. She thinks I threw away my entire future when I dropped out of Yale.”
“In a way, you did,” Stephanie said. “You threw away the future your parents had planned out for you. That isn’t a bad thing though, Caroline.”
“I know,” I said quickly. “I’ve never regretted it, not for a single second.”
“So, your parents are a no go,” Stephanie said. “How will you get the money, then?”
“I don’t know.” I admitted. “But, the truth is, I wouldn’t take it from my parents even if they offered it.”
“Why the hell not?” Stephanie asked.
“Because this isn’t about them,” I said. “This is my thing. For years, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I thought Yale was my dream but it wasn’t. The second I got there, I knew it wasn’t right. It took me two years to figure out I needed to leave. Once I did, I felt this surge of independence that I never want to lose. If I took their money for my art gallery, they would own it. They would own me. I can’t ever let that happen. Not again.”
“I don’t blame you,” Stephanie said. “They can be ruthless.”
“You have no idea,” I said softly.
My mind turned again to thoughts of Dean. Remembering that summer was always painful and part of the reason I didn’t date much. Not only was my life solely about work, but guys just didn’t seem worth the effort. After getting my heart broken, I wasn’t eager to go through that again. Not to mention, my parents had been utterly horrible when Dean went to prison. To this day, my mother couldn’t see me without mentioning what a “mistake” that “stable boy” had been. Every time she said it, I wanted to throttle her.
Still, it hurt to think about him. Dating was hard but I knew I had to put myself out there. When I dropped out of Yale, I got a job at an art gallery and put myself through art school. The only money I took from my parents was for my rent. They paid for me to live while I paid for my education. No matter how much they disapproved, I didn’t stop. I eventually got my degree and continued working at that same art gallery. Between school and work, there wasn’t much time for boys.
“What if I had live performances during every art show?” I asked, the idea suddenly striking.
“Like music?” Stephanie asked.
“Exactly,” I said. “I could pair the music artist with the artist of the night. The music would help sell the art and keep the patrons from getting bored. Not to mention, the café would bring in customers by itself. I really think I could make some money with this idea.”
“You can,” Stephanie said. “But, how are you going to start it up?”
“Investors,” I said simply. “I have a few connections from my time at the gallery. I’ve worked there for five years now. People know me. They trust me. It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone to invest. Right?”
“I think you should go for it,” Stephanie said. “Throw caution to the wind and all that shit. Plus, if you’re desperate, I could—”
“No.” I shook my head firmly. “Absolutely not. I won’t take your money.”
“Technically, it’s my father’s money,” Stephanie said.
“Still,” I said, still shaking my head. “I can’t.”
“If you insist,” Stephanie said with a sigh. “Hey, is that guy still staring?”
I glanced behind her to see if the guy from before was still there. He was. His eyes were still focused on Stephanie’s body. He looked like he was ready to pounce. I shivered with disgust and nodded.
She grinned and slid out of her chair, making her way across the bar toward the man. He smiled and wrapped his arm around her when she approached. With a grin on her face, they walked over to the bar and ordered drinks. This time, Stephanie lingered long enough to talk to him. She kept glancing in my direction, checking that I was okay.
While I watched her, I felt a pit of envy settle in my stomach. Sometimes, I wished it was that easy for me. I’d dated a few guys over the past seven years but no one serious. My relationships were barely that, lasting only a week or two at most. It was exhausting but I knew I had to try. No matter how much I hated the idea, I hated being alone just as much. My job was great and my dreams kept me motivated but I was lonely. I had been for a long time.
After a few minutes, Stephanie found her way back to me. She placed a fresh drink in front of me while she sipped on her own.
“Here you go,” she said.
“Tha
nk you,” I said with a smile. “But, I have to get going soon. My date, remember?”
“You were serious about that?” Stephanie asked.
“Yup.” I nodded. “Not all of us can pick up any guy we want, you know?”
“Who is this guy?” she asked, ignoring my jab. “Someone from the gallery?”
“Um,” I said. “No. He’s just someone I know from—”
I hesitated just long enough for understanding to dawn on Stephanie’s face. Her eyes grew wide and then narrowed as she fixed me with a judgmental glare.
“Caroline!” she said. “Tell me, you are not going on another blind date?”
“Blind dates aren’t that bad!” I said defensively. “You just don’t like them because—"
“Because they don’t work!” she interrupted. “You can’t just manufacture love, Caroline. That’s why online dating doesn’t work and that’s why blind dates don’t work.”
“Countless people find love online,” I said.
“That’s bullshit,” Stephanie said. “Ugh, Caroline! Blind dates are for desperate, ugly people. You are not desperate or ugly.”
“You never used to be this judgy,” I said.
This was exactly why I didn’t tell Stephanie the truth about my date until now. She hated when I went on blind dates.
“Fine,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “Go. Go on your blind date.”
“Thank you,” I said with a smile.
I stood up from my chair and walked around the table to hug her goodbye. She squeezed me gently and smiled when I pulled away.
“Just promise I’ll be the maid of honor at your arranged marriage,” she teased.
“Ha. Ha.”
I rolled my eyes and walked away, passing Stephanie’s guy as he hurried toward her, excited that he could finally claim her full attention.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - DEAN
Being back home felt like something out of a twisted nightmare. The day I landed, I rented a car and drove straight to the hospital. I didn’t stop to eat or pee until I saw my little brother. Daniel was lying in the hospital bed, asleep and pale. He looked half dead and the sight made my skin crawl. It almost broke me to see him that way but I knew I couldn’t fall apart. We had to find a way to help him and my mother couldn’t be trusted to do it on her own.
“I want to talk to the doctors,” I told her by way of a greeting. She just nodded and hurried out into the hallway, returning with an older man behind her.
“Hi,” the man said. “You must be Dean. I’m Dr. Henfield. I’ve been working on Daniel’s case for a few months now.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to keep the demand out of my voice.
“Well,” Dr. Henfield began, “the sort version is, your brother got very sick due to a complication with his diabetes. As I’m sure you know, Daniel isn’t the best about monitoring his condition. A few months ago, he was admitted with kidney problems and now things are even more dire.”
“What does that mean?” I snapped.
“He’s in full-fledged kidney failure,” Dr. Henfield said bluntly. “Without a transplant, he won’t live much longer.”
“Is he on any list?” I asked.
“Of course,” Dr. Henfield said with a nod. “We put him on the list immediately, but with his condition it’s going to be hard to find a match. Our best bet will be a relative or someone close to your family. Private donors are often easier to find.”
“When can we get tested?” I asked.
“I’ve already talk to the doctor about that,” my mom said, her voice weak. “We can get tested first thing tomorrow.”
“Good,” I said with a nod. “Good.”
Dr. Henfield waited until he was sure all my questions were answered, then he left. I felt a blind rage working its way through my body that I had to control. It wasn’t Dr. Henfield’s fault and it also wasn’t my mother’s but I still felt angry at them both. Daniel was sick. He’d been sick his entire life and until the last few years, it fell to me to care for him. If he wasn’t keeping up with his insulin, it was because no one was around to make him.
That, more than anything, was why I could barely look my mom in the eye. I was surprised to find her sober when I arrived at the hospital. Still, my anger toward her was strong and it left me without much to say. She tried to illicit some conversation out of me but I wasn’t having it. I flew out here to be with Daniel, not to deal with her fucking drama.
Mom and I were both tested first thing the following morning. It would be a couple days before we received the results, so I went to the house. At first, I thought I would be able to stomach being there again but I quickly proved myself wrong. The second I stepped through the front door, I felt a wave of vomit rise in my throat. I choked it down and left, driving down the road to find a hotel. The best thing about finally having money was the ability to escape fucked up situations. Returning to my childhood home was the most fucked up thing I could imagine.
I stayed at the hotel that night and went back to the hospital first thing in the morning. When I arrived, my mom was gone. I was happy to be alone with Daniel, even if he was unconscious most of the time.
Sitting beside his bed, I sighed and leaned toward him, my eyes trailing over his frail body.
“What the fuck, Daniel?” I asked softly. “How could you let it get this bad? You know how to handle this disease! We’ve been dealing with it your whole damn life. Dammit, Daniel.”
I shook my head and stared down at my hands. My anger was giving way to fear. As I sat beside him, I felt so helpless and out of control. No matter how bad things got, I’d always been able to save my brother. From our mother. From hunger. From the gang. Even from prison when he shot Eric, I could always save him, until now.
Now, I was powerless.
There wasn’t anything I could for Daniel and the longer I sat there, the further my mind drifted. Ever since I arrived back in town, I couldn’t help but think about Caroline. She crossed my mind constantly. I wondered what she was doing with her life now. Thanks to social media and local tabloids, I knew a little about her life.
She left Yale to attend art school. When I found out about that, I was so proud of her. She was finally going against her parents’ plan for her life. I wanted to call her but I stopped myself, knowing I would only cause her more pain.
After art school, I knew she stayed in Austin but I didn’t know where she lived now. Everywhere I went, I thought I saw her. When a blonde walked by, I did a double take, sure that it would be Caroline’s bright blue eyes staring back at me. It never was. I’d only been home for two days and already, her memory haunted me.
As I sat beside Daniel’s bed, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. I wanted to see her but I couldn’t just call her. I didn’t even have her number anymore. Instead, I decided to reach out to Stephanie. She, more than anyone, would know what was going on in Caroline’s life.
***
I sat in the dining room of the country club, feeling awkward and out of place. Despite the fact that I now had more money than most, I still didn’t feel like I belonged here. When Stephanie suggested meeting here, I immediately knew it was a bad idea, but I pushed the nerves away and agreed.
“Dean,” Stephanie said as she sat down across from me. “I’m glad you called.”
“You are?” I asked, surprised. “I figured you would hate me by now.”
“No,” she said, laughing. “Not at all.”
“I won’t lie to you,” I said bluntly. “I only called you to ask about Caroline.”
“I know.” Stephanie’s eyes locked on mine. They were dark brown and full of understanding. I knew then that she had been the right person to call. “It’s not as if you and I were ever friends.”
“No.” I chuckled. “We weren’t.”
“Well, what do you want to know, Dean?” Stephanie asked.
I hesitate, unsure of where to begin. Truthfully, I just wanted to know how Caroline was but I didn’t kn
ow if I even deserved that much. Luckily, I was saved by the waitress who came over to take our order. We ordered lunch, and I finally found my voice again.
“How is she?” I asked. “I guess that’s all I want to know.”
“You know, she tried to visit you,” Stephanie said sadly. “After you ended things. She went back but they said you wouldn’t see her.”
“What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t let her wait for me. Not while I was rotting away in there.”
“You didn’t have to push her away,” Stephanie said. “She would have stood by you.”
“That’s exactly why I pushed her away,” I said. “She deserved better than that.”
“Well,” Stephanie said, a satisfied smile on her face. I knew she’d been testing me, trying to figure out what my real intentions were with Caroline. “She’s doing okay. She hasn’t dated much though, not since you.”
“I haven’t exactly been out there falling in love either,” I admitted. “Dating options are really fucking limited in prison.”
Stephanie laughed just as our food arrived at the table. We caught up a little over lunch, and then the conversation turned back to Caroline.
“She wants to open an art gallery,” Stephanie said. “An art shop with a café that will be like a safe-haven for local artists. She’ll feature all kinds of art, not just paintings. She even wants to put in a stage for live music performances and spoken word poetry.”
