Love, Hate & Us

by S. P. West

  “I get how you feel, Dad,” I say softly. “I feel the same about Brooke. I miss her. There isn’t a day that goes by when I wish that I could turn back time, but I can’t, I can only go forward. So can you.” I sit down beside him on the bed. “If you don’t do something, then Mom’s going to file for divorce. She’s hurting, Dad. She’s hurting really bad, and you acting like you are makes her think that you aren’t willing to fight for her.”

  “That’s not...I do…I do want to fight for her. I can’t go on without her, Brody. Your mom is my life. I’m so damn sorry.” Tears start to fall down my father’s cheeks. I pull him toward me and cradle him in my arms, doing my best to comfort him like he did me when I was a child.

  “You’ve got to start trying, Dad.”

  “I know.” He sniffs.

  “How about we get you some strong coffee, try and sober you up a bit, huh? Then we can start cleaning this place and then…pizza? Or I can cook you dinner at my place.”

  “I don’t deserve you, Brody. You or Caden.”

  “I’m not an angel, Dad. I never will be. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up a bit.”

  “So,” Dad says, as he takes the last piece of pizza, “you haven’t heard from Brooke at all?”

  “No.”

  “Asked anyone in town about where she is?”

  “I asked Lola, but if she does know, she won’t tell me,” I answer, leaning my head on the back of the couch.

  “Do you blame her?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “You know she’s probably with Hope, don’t you?” he says, keeping one eye on the game that’s playing on the TV. “Find Hope and you find Brooke.”

  “Can’t find her either. Like I told you earlier, Cade already tried.”

  “Well ain’t we just a bunch of fuck ups,” he says.

  “You think stupidity is inherited?”

  Dad turns his head to look at me, then lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, I would say it is in our case.” His face is alight with amusement. “Can’t believe we all banged the same chick.”

  “Don’t remind me.” I groan. “It’s bad enough that I slept with her…”

  “You get tested for STDs?”

  “I’m not having this conversation with you, Dad.” I can’t believe that he just asked me that.

  “Well did you?”

  “Jesus, Dad.”

  “Not an answer, Son.”

  “Yes, I did, okay? Did you?”

  “Course I did.”

  “Good. I can’t believe that we’re talking about this.”

  “Hey, you asked first.”

  “Well I used a condom with her.”

  “So did I…at first.”

  “I don’t want to hear this.”

  “Brody, just promise you’ll wrap it up in the future. If a girl says she’s good for protection, don’t believe her. Hell, just don’t go near her. That was my mistake right there. Giving into temptation like I did, and now I’m paying for it.”

  “And that right there is why Mom won’t have you back,” I mutter.

  “What did you say?”

  “Why did you do it, Dad? If you love Mom so much, why did you go behind her back?”

  “Because I’m a pig-headed fool, Brody. An attractive young woman showed me attention and I decided to act on it. I wish to God that I hadn’t.” He shakes his head. “Listen. I love your mom, more than anything. I know that I’ve been an ass...but I swear from now on I will do everything I can to make this right.”

  “Amen to that.”

  “Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Brooke?”

  “Not really.”

  “Be good to get it off your chest.”

  “No.”

  He’s quiet for a minute or two before hitting me with, “I’m going to ask Joely for a DNA test for Kyan.”

  I wasn’t expecting that.

  “I figured that I’ve been paying her money all this time out of fear that she would tell your mom, and now that it’s out in the open…”

  “Hate to break it to you, Dad, but you weren’t the only guy she slept with back then. I’m surprised you haven’t got tested before now.” I fix him with a glare. “Hell, I’m surprised half the town hasn’t been tested. How could you, of all people, be that stupid?”

  “Joely said that if I made her get one, then she would tell your mom about our affair. I didn’t ever want Judy to find out.”

  “Jesus Christ, Dad. Are you fucking crazy? Do you know how many men Joely has spread her legs for in this town alone?”

  “I didn’t know that at the time.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “Were there others?”

  “What?”

  “Did you cheat on Mom with anyone else?”

  “No! God no.”

  “Well that’s something.” I spit.

  “Hey. Show me some respect, I’m your father.”

  “Who cheated on my sweet, kind mother and drove her away.”

  “Like what you did was any different.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “What you did with Brooke was no different.”

  “Brooke and I had split up.”

  “You were still living in the same house. Kind of cruel to be going on dates with another woman while your ex is still living with you, don’t you think? So, before you go accusing me of being an old bastard, which,” he says, pointing to his chest, “I am. You should take a good, long look at yourself.”

  “Dad…”

  “No, Brody, you think because I’ve spent most of my time drunk that I don’t see what’s going on. I see it, Brody, believe me, I see it.” Dad leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “I can see you struggling to move on, I can see you hurting. You found out the hard way that the grass ain’t always greener on the other side, and now you’re lost. Lost without that sweet girl. Brody, you are a smart guy. I’m so proud of you and Cade, but it hurts me to think that you have both made the same mistakes that I have. Don’t be like me. Do the right thing and fight for what you want. Move heaven and earth to make it right.”

  “How can I when I don’t know where the hell she is?”

  “You’re just not looking hard enough.”

  “If one of the top P.I.s in the country can’t find her, then how the hell do you expect me to?”

  He sighs, and scrubs his hand across his jaw. For the first time I notice the lines in his skin and the gray hair on his head. My father has always looked young for his age, now, now he looks old…weary. “In two months-time it’ll be Christmas Eve,” he says quietly.

  “So?”

  “Brooke and Hope visit their parents’ graves on Christmas Eve, every year without exception.”

  “I know that. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Without exception, Son.”

  “You think that…”

  “Yes. I do. Question is, what are you going to do about it?”

  Brooke

  Growing up, Christmas had always been my favorite time of the year. Everything about the season seemed so wondrous and magical. Every memory I had of the holidays was filled with love, laughter, and lots of fairy lights. To me, it was joyous and remained that way, even after the loss of my parents.

  It’s funny how that can all change.

  Now the thought of celebrating something I’d loved so much is the last thing on my mind, thanks to Brody. Instead, I’m spending Christmas Eve standing next to Hope as she lays down the bouquet of white roses that we bought to place on our parents’ graves.

  We’d made the long journey back to Emmerton by car, arriving late last night. Lola had been overjoyed when I asked her if she minded if we stayed with her for a few days over the festive period. It turned out that her boyfriend was whisking her away for the week to some exotic beach somewhere but she had no one to look after her cat. She was grateful when I offered to house-sit for her.

  Staying at Lol
a’s meant that Hope and I could keep a low profile. No one needed to know that we were here unless we wanted them to. Hope suggested that we drive to the next town over any time we needed supplies to limit the chance of meeting someone who would recognize us. It was kind of weird stepping out on to Lola’s porch this morning and seeing my old house next door. I wondered if Brody still lived there or if he’d moved in with Joely.

  Our shopping expedition was non-eventful. We didn’t see anyone that we knew, and that was fine by me. I didn’t want the town gossip grapevine to go into meltdown over the fact that the Elderhouse sisters were back in Emmerton. I especially didn’t want my ex-fiancé or his parents to know we were here. I couldn’t cope with seeing any of them. Not today.

  The snow falls lightly around us as Hope pushes up from her kneeling position, taking my hand in hers and wiping away her tears with her other one. We stand in companionable silence, gazing at the writing on their joint headstone.

  HERE LIES ELIZABETH AND JASON ELDERHOUSE.

  BELOVED PARENTS OF BROOKE AND HOPE.

  Orphans.

  Brooke and Hope Elderhouse, the orphans that no one wants.

  “You okay?” Hope asks me.

  “No.”

  “Me either.” I give her hand a squeeze. “Someone has been looking after Mom and Dad. They put fresh flowers down and cleared away the weeds,” she says, nodding toward the bouquet of pink lilies that had been on the graves when we got here.

  Mom’s favorite.

  “Judy,” I say with a smile. I guess Brody’s mom has been looking after Mom and Dad in our absence. I’m glad someone did.

  “Do you want to stay a little longer?”

  “No.”

  The snow falls heavier as we make our way back to the SUV. I take one last look back to where our parents rest and mentally say goodbye until the next time we come up here.

  We drive back to Lola’s in silence. The snow now so bad that I can barely see the road ahead of us. Thank God we don’t have far to go.

  Hope and I both sigh with relief as we make the final turn on to Maple Street and pull into the drive. Snow crunches underfoot as we make our way in to the comfortable little house that Lola calls home. I pause briefly to look at my old house. I can just make out twinkling lights from a Christmas tree in the window, apart from that, there seems to be no other decorations. Not like when Brody and I lived there, when every conceivable space was filled with Christmas related things and you could see our small abode from space.

  A stray tear rolls down my cheek as I think of all the good times we had in the home that I’d loved so much, until Brody had ruined it for me. To me it was my forever home—the place where Brody would carry me over the threshold on our first day as a married couple, where we would excitedly wait for the pregnancy test to show two pink lines, where I would pace up and down the hallway with my baby while Brody made up a bottle. I hate that some of my last memories of the place will forever be tainted by the sounds of Brody having sex with another woman.

  Today should have been so different. Today, I should be celebrating my marriage, surrounded by the people I love. In a couple of hours’ time, Brody and I would have taken our vows and began spending the rest of our lives together. I would have visited the cemetery with a couple of glasses of champagne and raised a toast to my parents with Brody by my side.

  Today should have been a happy day—I doubt it ever will be happy again.

  The curtain of my old house twitches and I can see someone in the window looking at me. I walk as fast as I can toward the warmth and safety of Lola’s. Just as I reach the door handle, I hear someone call my name.

  “Brooke?”

  Shit.

  “Brooke. Is that you?”

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Brooke?”

  Why? Today of all days, why?

  “Baby?”

  I’m tempted to pretend that I didn’t hear him, just slam the door behind me and hide in Lola’s, but the fact that the asshole has the nerve to call me baby makes my blood boil. I curse myself because I never asked Lola whether he still lived next door, because I didn’t want to hear about his awesome new life without me.

  “What do you want, Brody?” I snap, my hand paused on the handle in readiness to flee. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to see how happy he is.

  “I…I…” He clears his throat. “I thought I was seeing things. I can’t believe you’re back.”

  “Well, I am, and now you’ve seen me.”

  “Brooke, please look at me.” He sounds closer now, the creak of the porch step tells me that he’s feet away from me.

  “Don’t come any further, Brody,” I say, briefly leaning my head against the cold door.

  “I won’t…I promise.” I just know that his hands are held up in surrender. “But do me a favor and turn around?”

  “Why?”

  “I want to see you,” he whispers.

  “Well, I don’t want to see you.” I snort.

  “Please, Brooke,” he begs.

  “Why the hell should I?”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Is it possible to love and hate someone in equal measure? Because that’s how I feel right now. I’m done with this crap. Maybe I can persuade Hope to leave tonight. I can’t stay here. Not if I know that he’s next door.

  “That’s really great,” I say through gritted teeth as I open the door. “Have a nice life, Brody.”

  “No, wait,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  My plan to slap him across the face falls flat when I slip on the ice covered wooden porch as I spin around to face him. Instead of delivering him a stinging reproach, I end up in his arms, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. His arms tighten around me and my heartbeat speeds up as he holds me still. I allow myself to bathe in the familiarity of his touch, pretending for a moment that the past year didn’t happened and we are still together. The spell that I’d been under is broken when he places a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

  “What the hell, Brody?” He looks surprised as I push him away.

  “I’m sorry,” he mutters, reluctantly letting me go, and I immediately miss his warmth. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He steps back into the shadows so that I can’t quite see his face.

  “No, you shouldn’t have.”

  “I just forget, you know?”

  “No, Brody, I don’t.”

  He doesn’t answer, just stares at me from a safe distance. It could be seconds, it could be minutes, or it could be hours before he speaks again.

  “You look good, Bab…rooke.” There’s a sadness to his voice.

  “I’d say the same but I can’t see your face.”

  He steps forward cautiously, as though he’s approaching a wild animal, not the woman he had claimed to love for most of his life. I now realize, as he walks toward me, that he’s only wearing a towel around his waist. His feet are bare, his ink black hair is tipped with frost and plastered against his head.

  “Did you just get out of the shower?”

  “Yeah,” he says with a shy smile. “I saw it was you and ran straight out here.”

  “Why the hell would you do that? You’ll catch your death out here.”

  “Getting the chance to talk to you seemed more important than my dick falling off because of frostbite.” I struggle not to laugh at his confession. “You never returned my calls,” he says suddenly, chasing away any warm thoughts I’d had toward him in an instant.

  “I didn’t want to talk to you.”

  “Then you blocked my number.”

  “Because I didn’t want to talk to you,” I hiss. “And news flash, I still don’t.” I back up toward the door, groping behind me for the handle.

  “But I want to-to ta-talk to you, Brooke.” His teeth chatter. Even in the dim light I can see that he’s turning blue.

  “We have nothing left to say to each other, Brody. You made it perfectly clear that you m
oved on, I get it, okay. Please don’t keep rubbing my nose in how much you’re enjoying your life without me. Now please, for the love of God, go inside and put—”

  “I’m not,” he says, interrupting me.

  “Not what?”

  “Not doing so…so good without you. I miss you, Brooke. I-I love you.”

  “Brody.” I sigh, surprised that I haven’t broken down in a weeping mess. “You made the choice to end us. Not me. You were bored and wanted to explore. I didn’t. I was happy.”

  “I was happy, too.”

  “No, you weren’t, Brody. Don’t lie to yourself. Now do me a favor, and go back inside to your girlfriend and get some clothes on.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Just go back inside and have a nice life.”

  “I ca-can’t without you in it.”

  “Brody…”

  “Just give me ten minutes, okay? Ten minutes to-to say what I ha-have to say, and then if you never want to hear from me again, you won’t, I promise. I’ll st-stop stalking you.” He grins. “I’ll even make us some hot chocolate.”

  “Will you put some clothes on?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Well in that case…” I turn and grab the door handle.

  “Do you want to be responsible for my death?”

  “Meh,” I say as I fling the door open.

  “Brooke?” Hope walks into the hallway with a steaming mug of cocoa in her hands. “What’s taking you so…oh, hey, Brody,” she says sweetly.

  Traitor. She’s supposed to hiss at him or something, not be all “oh hiiiiiii, Brody.”

  “Hey, Hope.” Brody raises his hand in greeting to my traitorous sister.

  “Are you naked?”

  “I have a towel.”

  “Why are you on the porch in a towel in the freezing cold?”

  “He was just leaving. Weren’t you, Brody?” I chime in.

  “I want to-to talk to your sis-sister,” Brody answers, completely ignoring me.

  “Well, you could talk in here. I can make myself scarce,” my traitor sister singsongs. I’m beginning to wonder whose side she’s on.

  “That’s real nice of you, Hope, but I-I kinda want to put some clothes on.” He flashes her an apologetic grin as he steps into the light. I can’t stop my eyes from raking over his body. He was muscular before we split, but holy mother of God, he has a V...When the hell did he get that? An eight pack and a V. Jesus Christ. Is that a new tattoo? It looks like it begins with a B…