Storms Over Secrets

by J. A. Derouen

  After a few minutes pass, Kimberly storms back down the aisle and throws herself into her seat, crossing her arms. Her chest heaves with each breath, and unshed tears swim in her eyes. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and squeeze.

  “What’s the matter, babe?”

  “Sara said she had the twins under control.” She breathes a sigh and presses her fingers into the corner of her eyes to stop the tears. “Why do they always have to be so mean to me? What did I ever do to them?”

  I catch Adam’s attention and shake my head, silently telling him to leave well enough alone. I inhale a deep breath in a feeble attempt to get my temper under control. They don’t have to be her best friend, but there’s no excuse for being bitches. Maybe they aren’t the people I think they are.

  “Fuck ‘em. You don’t have to take that shit, Kimberly, and neither do I. We’ll take off as soon as we can,” I say, running a hand through my hair in frustration.

  I feel her relax in my arms, but rustling from behind catches our attention before she can respond.

  Lily and Gage stand together at the far end of the aisle, stock-still and petrified as all eyes turn to them. Sara places a kiss on top each of their heads before taking her seat next to the rest of the gang.

  That’s when I see her.

  Celia kneels next to Lily and Gage and whispers something. Whatever she said causes giggles to erupt, and she places her finger over her lips to quiet them.

  God, I can’t pull my eyes away. She’s positively stunning. She sparkles, and I swear it has nothing to do with her damn dusting powder. She shines like a beacon, and I’m powerless, completely overtaken by her beauty.

  Gage’s eyes brighten when Celia places something in his hand, and he quickly shoves it into his pocket with a sly grin. She holds her fisted hand over Lily’s head. At Celia’s command, Lily twirls with a bashful smile, and her eyes light up with magic as Celia sprinkles glitter over her head.

  They both crash into her for a hug, almost toppling Celia to the ground. She gives each of them a quick squeeze and pushes them forward. They hustle back to the aisle and begin their duties as ring bearer and flower girl. Gage holds the pillow perfectly still in front of him, and Lily pelts the guests with flower petals.

  Celia stands up and dusts off her knees. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and it’s electricity, quickly followed by the sting of longing. The current that flows through me only serves as a reminder of what I’ll never have.

  The music changes, and Alex starts down the aisle, looking every bit of the beautiful bride. My attention turns to West, the luckiest fucker here today. I see the look in his eyes—the realization that nothing else in the world matters more than this woman standing before him. I’m well acquainted with the feeling. It’s exactly how I feel every time my hungry eyes get the tiniest glimpse of Celia.

  And isn’t that the bitch of it.

  Pledges are made, rings are exchanged, and happy tears flow like fountains, but my clouded mind can’t appreciate any of it. I feel her behind me. She couldn’t be any louder than if she were screaming at the top of her lungs, although she never utters a word.

  I pull Kimberly away from the festivities the first chance I get. I hate to take off without a word, but my chest will explode if I don’t. I’ll give the happy couple my congrats at their going away party. Since Alex and West don’t leave for their honeymoon until next week, our friends organized a going away honeymoon party. I need to ready my heart for another round of tap dancing.

  But for tonight, I focus on yet another reason why my cock can’t come out and play with Kimberly’s over eager lady parts.

  Fuck, I feel a fake headache coming on…

  “What happened to you yesterday, dude? I thought we had plans to play basketball, and your flaky ass never fucking showed,” I say as I open my front door and toss my keys on the counter.

  “Damn, it completely slipped my mind. Sara and I ran all over town yesterday getting ready for Alex and West’s party this weekend, and then Lily had dance. It was a shit show of an afternoon. Sorry about that.” Even now, I can hear the yelps and giggles of Lily and Gage in the background.

  “Look at you, all domesticated. Is your fiancé only going to let you out to play on special occasions now?”

  I balance the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can feed and water Biz. He’s lucky I’m feeding him at all with the shit he’s pulled lately. He’s taken to peeing on every surface Kimberly sits on after she leaves. My sofa is draped in towels, and the woman is questioning my obsession with her sitting on one particular barstool. I’d sell the hound to the gypsies at this point, but they’d probably return him the next day. I get that Biz isn’t her biggest fan, but there are better ways to make his point than with piss.

  “Aw, so that’s how it’s gonna be from now on? Make fun of the engaged guy?” Adam chuckles.

  “Nothing to get riled up about, man. It’s good to know your balls have taken up residence in Sara’s purse, though.”

  “Don’t you give two seconds thought to where my balls are, fucker.”

  At that, I bust out laughing.

  “So, big plans tonight?” he asks with a laugh. Now it’s my turn to take the ribbing.

  Adam’s quick mention of my date tonight has gravel settling in my gut. Kimberly planned the “perfect” date for us. Candlelit dinner at The Lamplight Inn with the honeymoon suite rented for the night. The message is clear: Sex tonight, at all costs.

  Fuck me … literally. I don’t even remember agreeing—I swear she drugged me.

  “Yeah, big plans—” I mutter. Before I can finish my sentence, my phone beeps, alerting me to an incoming call. I pull the phone away from my ear and see it’s Granny. “Look, I have to take this, man. Talk later?”

  “Yeah, later.”

  I hang up and switch to the new call, and adrenaline rushes through me as the speaker fills with hysterical sobs.

  “Granny?”

  “Oh, thank God, Cain. It’s Sarge—you need to get here now. Hurry.” Granny’s frantic voice sends chills down my spine.

  I tag my keys off the counter and race out the door before she finishes her sentence. “What happened, Granny? Is he all right?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know,” she sobs. “He left early this afternoon in the truck. He said he needed to pick up a few tools at the hardware store. It’s been hours, and he’s still not back. I knew he shouldn’t drive anymore, but I was afraid of how he’d react if I took away his keys. And n-n-now he’s m-m-missing.”

  “Stop, Granny, you don’t know that. He probably stopped by the Melancon Farm to shoot the breeze with Mr. Larry or something. I’m gonna swing by there on my way to the house. I’m headed there now,” I say with the calmest tone I can muster as I fire up my truck.

  “Yes, he could be there. That’s a good idea, Cain.” She releases a pent up breath.

  “I’ll see you in a few. We’re gonna find him, Granny. He’s fine, I know it.”

  “The Space Between” by Dave Matthews Band

  Present Day

  I TURN INTO the driveway after coming up empty at the Melancon’s, feeling dread deep in my bones. I’m gonna find him, no matter what.

  I throw the truck in park and notice a familiar Buick pulling up behind me. I don’t give it a second thought as I race up the stairs and find my mom and grandmother clutching to each other at the kitchen table.

  “No luck at the Melancon farm. Any word?” I ask, shifting from one foot to the other, way too much nervous energy pulsing through my body to sit down.

  “Not yet,” my mom offers. “Will and Mo split up to hit as many places as possible. We’ve searched everywhere … we’re running out of ideas.”

  Celia races past me, and Granny immediately wraps her in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, Granny. What can I do? How can I help?”

  “I’m so scared, Celia.” Granny’s voice cracks with the admission. “What if he’s lost and confused somewhere? What if he’s a
fraid? This is all my fault for letting him drive.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. This is not your fault. No one is to blame here,” Mom says in a stern voice.

  “We’ve looked everywhere I can think of. I’m not sure where to go from here.” Granny’s slumped shoulders and hanging head scream defeat, but I won’t give up.

  “I can’t just stay here. I have to help,” I say as I head for the door. “I’ll call Mo and Will and see where they’ve already checked. The more people looking for him, the better.”

  “Wait,” Mom calls out before I close the door. “Take Celia with you. Two heads are better than one.”

  Great.

  The last thing I need right now is Celia Lemaire anywhere in my vicinity, but it won’t do any good to argue with a distraught woman. So I give a quick nod and head out the door. If Celia plans on coming, she better follow me.

  She catches up quickly and hops into the passenger seat of the truck. That works for me, because I don’t have the time to worry about her right now. All I can think about is Sarge.

  I barrel down the country road as I dial Mo.

  “Where to next?” I bark when Mo answers my call.

  I take a sharp turn right at her response. Today, I plan on leaving no stone unturned.

  The afternoon flies by in a blur, and dusk looms with still no sign of Sarge. I scrub my hands over my face, and my forehead hits the steering wheel.

  “Where the hell could he be?”

  Celia brushes a hand up my back and squeezes my shoulder. “We’ll keep looking.”

  I huff in frustration and face her. “I’m all out of ideas, Celia. I don’t know where else to turn.”

  Her eyes soften, and her lips turn down just as my phone rings. When I see Kimberly’s name on the screen, I groan.

  “Fuuuuuuuck,” I growl, and then hit the TALK key. “Hey, there’s a little change of plans tonight. I won’t be able to make dinner.”

  Celia stiffens and shifts to the far end of the truck. As crazy as it sounds, I feel like I’m betraying Celia by picking up the phone and talking to Kimberly.

  “Oh, no you don’t, Cain Bennett. Tonight is our night. You aren’t backing out on me.” Kimberly skipped whiny today and moved on to downright hostile.

  “My grandfather took off this afternoon, and we can’t find him. We’ve torn the town apart with no luck. I don’t know what else to do … or where else to go.” It stings to say the words out loud, but the truth is, I’m beginning to lose hope. After hours with no sign of him, I’m starting to believe the worst.

  Kimberly expels a loud huff. “Look, he’s gonna turn up, and everything will be fine. Old people do things like this, Cain. And didn’t you mention he has Alzheimer’s? He’ll snap out of it and show up at home like nothing happened.” Just when I think her version of a pep talk is over she starts up again. “He’ll turn up, and our night will be ruined for nothing. We made these plans over a week ago, and I’m not canceling them.”

  What. The. Fuck?

  I fling open the truck door and slam it with enough force to shake the cab. I pace the length of the truck in an attempt to rein in my temper, which is dangerously close to boiling over. Kimberly’s selfishness and complete lack of concern floors me.

  “I’m pretty damn sure my night is already ruined, Kimberly, since my grandfather is fucking missing!” I roar into the phone. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t dismiss my feelings and my family crisis and get back to it. I’ll be sure to phone you when we find him. It’s fucking obvious how concerned you are for him and for me.”

  I hang up before she responds. It’s for the best. No words will make up for her callousness. I spend a few extra moments outside to calm down. When I open the truck door and see Celia’s wide eyes, it’s obvious she heard every word I said.

  “Don’t,” I warn, and she nods in response. I need to clear my head of the bullshit and focus on Sarge. I’m not interested in Celia’s commentary on Kimberly, now or ever. “How did you end up at Granny and Sarge’s house anyway?”

  She jerks at my question, her spine stiffening in defense. I have a right to know, whether she agrees or not. They’re my family, and excuse me if I’m feeling a little protective of them right now.

  “Granny and Lila both called me,” she explains, wringing her hands in her lap. “Sarge and I … well, we spend a lot of time together.”

  “Is that right?”

  “He’s my friend,” she whispers softly.

  “Don’t you think it’s odd that you’ve welcomed every one of my family members into your life, except me?” The question, its implication and the harshness of my tone, fly out of my mouth before I have a chance to censor it.

  “You don’t like my terms.” A shuddered breath releases from her lips, and her watery eyes meet mine. “For someone like me, with no family left, they’ve come to mean so much to me. I never want to lose them, but I understand if you want me to stay away.”

  I shake my head as I dial the phone. She cuts me down to size with one sentence. God, I feel like such an asshole. “They love you as much as you love them. I’d never ask that of you.”

  Her shoulders relax as I call Mo and place the phone on speaker. The ringing fills the cab, and Mo picks up right away.

  “Any luck?”

  It’s clear by her tone she’s come up empty, too.

  “None. It’s time for a fresh start. We need to comb Granny’s brain for more places to look.” I rub my burning eyes, feeling as if I’ve aged ten years today.

  “Where would you go?” Mo asks. “Where is the first place you’d go, Cain?”

  “That’s easy. The pond. It always clears my head, and I have so many good memories of the place. That’s where Sarge taught me to fish, where I had my first kiss … we’ve already looked there, Mo.”

  “Wait, has anyone checked Highway 88?” Celia asks with wide eyes.

  “What the hell is on Highway 88?” Mo shouts through the phone.

  “The oak tree where he proposed to Granny … among other things. Not the point—he mentioned to me he goes there when things get rough. It’s his thinking place.”

  “I’m calling Granny,” I say.

  “Hurry,” Mo says before I end the call and start dialing.

  For the first time this afternoon, I feel a spark of hope.

  The gravel and dirt crunch under the tires as I turn off the main road. Sugarcane towers over us on both sides as we drive forward. The red glint of a truck tailgate is barely visible next to the sprawling branches of the imposing oak tree. It stands regally in the back corner of the field, far away from the road.

  I never would have found it on my own.

  “Thank God,” Celia breathes when she notices his truck.

  I park behind him and kill the engine. He’s sitting on a large rock, head hung low and shoulders slumped. I shoot off a text to Mom before getting out of the truck.

  We got him.

  He never looks up as we approach. He slices the outer layer of the cane stalk in his fingers and hands a piece to Celia when he cuts off a chunk. She sidles up next to him and pops the cane into her mouth.

  “Thank you,” she mumbles while gnawing on the sweet stalk.

  “Lots of people worried about you, old man.” I reach out and take a chunk of cane from his outstretched hand. The sweet juice bursts in my mouth as I chew.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” He continues to cut at the stalk. “I needed a minute—just me and the memories. I feel them slowly slipping away.”

  His voice cracks with emotion, and it’s a knife to my gut. This is my tough as nails grandfather. Cross him, and he’d just as soon punch you as look at you. But today, he’s all out of fight, and it hurts.

  Emotion clogs my throat, strangling any words of encouragement I may have. I give Celia a helpless glance. She smiles at me as she fiddles with the pendant around her neck. If anyone needs St. Jude’s help today, it’s Sarge.

  Celia bends down to meet Sarge’s lowered e
yes. “Memories get me through the hard times. They anchor me … keep me grounded to this life. Sometimes, it seems memories are all I have left. I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose them. They seem to be written in chalk, slowly washing away over time, don’t they?”

  Her words remind me of her truth—her insistence that we can never be. No matter how many times I hear it, it still hurts.

  “It feels like I’m wasting away, like this body of mine is an empty shell. It’s a sick joke. My body is in perfect health, and my brain is rotting from the inside out. The fog in my mind keeps getting thicker every day, my words and thoughts sitting just out of my grasp,” Sarge says, outstretching his trembling hand.

  “Your mind is your enemy, and time is mine. As the years pass, memories lose their color,” Celia says. She lays a soft hand on Sarge’s leg and giggles. “I’ll never forget the dog my Grams had when I was a little girl. She was the fattest rat terrier I’ve ever seen. In the evenings, Grams and I would sit on the porch swing, listening to the wind chimes and feeding the fat hound caramels. Her butt would drag the ground.”

  Sarge chuckles. “Sounds like a great dog to me. Poor thing probably dropped dead of a heart attack with all she ate.”

  “Oh, no. Myrtle lived long past her years. Myrt, Myrt, old as dirt. That’s what I would sing to her. She died in her late teens. A truck ran over her on one of her squirrel chasing missions. She could only drag her butt across the street so fast, ya know?” Celia shrugs with a playful frown. “Myrtle was a good dog. All thirty pounds of her.”