Mistaken

by J. A. Howell

  A stunning woman stared back at her with sorrowful eyes. She held a familiarity that Dillan couldn’t immediately place. Her dark hair was pulled back into a beautiful French braid, twisted into a bun at the bottom. She wore all black, a demure silky dress with a high neck and sheer quarter sleeves. A black rosette was pinned in her braid, just above the bun. She had the same striking blue eyes as Jamie…and Trey.

  Dillan finally recognized that the woman she was now face to face with was their mother. From her expression and her dress, it had to be an image of her at a funeral. The image evoked an empathetic sadness in Dillan. Is this what Trey remembers of his dad’s funeral? How sad his mother looked? She glanced back at him as a pained groan came from his direction. As much as she wanted to continue through his sketchbook, guilt crept up as she stole one more glance at his mother’s image. He must really miss her.

  She placed the sketchbook on the coffee table next to him, glancing down at Trey to ensure she didn’t wake him. It was about time she tried to fall asleep again. Dillan finally felt a genuine exhaustion kicking in, enough so to override the worries that had kept her from her rest earlier. Lightly grabbing the edges of the blanket, she pulled it up around Trey’s sleeping form.

  “I’m sorry Andrew… I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry…”

  If Dillan hadn’t been so close to Trey in that moment she might have missed the words as he mumbled them in his sleep. She watched his face contort once again, a tear catching the moonlight as it trailed down the side of his face. Andrew? Who is he talking to? The name wasn’t familiar to her, yet the way he had said it, it didn’t sound like just a friend or acquaintance. At his words, the previously unsettled feeling she had felt earlier began to slip around the edges of her former contentedness. Dillan fought the urge to shake him awake and interrogate him. She had so many questions, and she knew he held the answers, yet she couldn’t bring herself to force them out of him.

  What aren’t you telling me, Trey? About your mother, about Jamie…about Andrew. She knew he had been on the verge of telling her something that night, but something had stopped him. This only served to convince Dillan that whatever he was hiding, it had to do with Jamie’s death.

  ***

  Trey’s muscles ached as he stretched and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was sore from a night of restless sleep. He sat up and eyed the time on Dillan’s entertainment center. It was already late morning, just after 11AM. He knew he had slept at least ten hours, but it felt like he had only slept two. It was then that he noticed a stack of clothing by his bag. He eyed them curiously as he sat up.

  A moment later, Dillan busted out of her bedroom in an uproar, her high heels clamoring against the floor. Stopping briefly as the metal door to the dryer opened and slammed shut and the machine hummed to life. She rounded the corner, coming into the living room as she was still attempting to pull her hair back.

  “I’m sorry Trey, but I am running really late for work. Help yourself to food … I washed your clothes, they’re in the dryer now.” Her voice was breathless as she rushed to collect her things.

  “Thank you” He said, and nodded toward the stack of clothing. He didn’t need to ask who they used to belong to. Dillan nodded back, then with a faint smile she quickly slipped out the door, leaving Trey to his own devices.

  ***

  Of course, even at the time Dillan left, she managed to hit traffic, not making it into work until past noon despite the fact that she only lived twenty minutes away. A four-car accident caused all of the traffic leaving the city limits to bottleneck and slow to a crawl as everyone took their turn eyeing the carnage of twisted metal and flashing lights.

  She was thankful to slip into her office seemingly unnoticed. She slid her bag under the desk then powered on her Mac. If Dillan was lucky, maybe her boss, Jason, would assume she had been in here all along… and was not over three hours late. It was unlikely, but Dillan was hopeful. Just as she loaded one of her design projects, Jason came storming into her office. Oh crap… the jig is up. She did her best to pretend to be immersed in her current project.

  “Oh good, you’re in.” Jason smiled. Her eyes looked up at him, hiding the momentary panic she always felt whenever her boss randomly stopped by.

  “I expect you are well rested from your mini holiday away from the office?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he peered over thick-rimmed glasses. Him and his British terms. I wouldn’t exactly call that a “holiday”, she thought to herself.

  “Yes, it helped immensely. I appreciate you letting me take that time off.” She said.

  “Yes, well I think we all know it’s been a bit of a rough patch for you this past year. I didn’t think you would be in the right sorts to be in the office that day.” Jason said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. She nodded in agreement then waited for him to continue.

  “Dillan, I really need you to buckle down over the next couple of days. We finally got a meeting with Monarchy. The airline company.” His eyes lit up, “I need you to work your magic and come up with samples for print ads, billboards, and well you know how to treat a big client.”

  “Yes sir. When is the meeting?” Dillan flipped open her planner and scribbled down the airline’s name.

  “Wednesday, promptly at noon, so you have today and tomorrow. We can tweak anything in the morning on Wednesday before the meeting.” He spoke excitedly. Dillan could just picture money signs flashing in his eyes like a slot machine.

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll get started right away.” She finished penning in the details, flipping her boss a thumbs up.

  “Dillan, if we get this account, it will mean big things for all of us. Yourself included. Take this as a time to shine. I know you can do it.” He flashed her a smile that reached up into his green eyes, deepening the small wrinkles on the outsides of them. She appreciated his words and politely reciprocated, smiling back before Jason left the room. Dillan knew she was lucky to have a boss like him. Jason was only about 10 years older than her but he had a wealth of knowledge. He had lost his wife to cancer a few years back so he had been the most sympathetic when Jamie died. Even though he was her boss, she liked to think he would have been a good friend to her too.

  After all, it was he who suggested that she give herself an extended weekend. She had no choice but to put her all into this new project. She knew Jason had been courting the airline in an attempt to get their business. Just getting a meeting with them was a big accomplishment alone. Matrix, the marketing firm where she worked, had grown tremendously since she had started with them when she was fresh out of college. Despite the growth, it was still considered one of the smaller firms in the area. If Jason managed to get the airline’s business for Matrix, she had no doubt he would be a V.P. in a matter of months, and there would be no doubt that he deserved it.

  Dillan busied herself the rest of the day, researching the airline, and racking her brain for ideas. After a few hours, she had quite a bit to work with. After her intense weekend, this kind of work was exactly what she needed. It wasn’t until 6pm rolled around that her mind even wandered to thoughts of Trey or Jamie.

  ***

  Trey had only just arrived home twenty minutes before Dillan had walked in the door. He had found a spare key hanging by the door, and decided to go out on his own to research Jamie’s murder. He had come up empty-handed except for finding a few articles online at the library. Despite their obvious resemblance, the police department had given him a hard time about getting a copy of their report. Trey had ended up leaving once they started asking more questions. With his luck, he was now on their radar as a possible suspect.

  He had spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering downtown, slowly making his way back to the apartment. As Dillan entered the apartment, Trey looked up at her, turning his attention from the section of the wall he had been blankly staring at ever since he had arrived back.

  “Everything okay?” She as
ked, studying Trey, her eyes full of concern. Dark circles were evident under his eyes and when his gaze met hers, Dillan could definitely tell something was eating at him.

  “I’ll be fine…I haven’t been sleeping too well. But it’s not a big deal.” He answered quietly. Dillan had already known that from watching him toss and turn in his sleep the night before.

  “I’m sorry I know it can’t be too comfortable sleeping on the couch. I have some more pillows if you need them.”

  Trey offered a bleak smile, “It’s not that, Dillan. The couch is fine.”

  “Right,” Dillan looked down, a heavy feeling in her chest. “You’ve only had a few days to process everything…I’ve had a year and I still have trouble sleeping most nights.”

  That’s only part of it Dillan…if only you knew. He watched her shift uncomfortably, leaning against the wall. He hated knowing that she felt bad for him, because he didn’t deserve it. Each day he stayed here only added more to the list of lies and offenses he knew he would need to answer for sooner or later. As soon as he knew the truth, he would tell her and get out of her life. That is exactly what she will want once I tell her anyways.

  “You were here though, when he died. I can’t imagine that it would be any easier to process that after a year.” Trey said softly as their eyes met once again.

  Dillan released a sigh then shook her head. The energy in the room was growing heavier.

  “Let’s not talk about this right now, Trey… I think some fresh air might do us good.” She said, taking in a deep breath. Trey nodded before she headed down the hall to change. As soon as she closed the bedroom door behind her, she grabbed her pill bottle from her purse and dumped a Xanax into her palm. Today had been okay.

  Despite being late to work, she had kept herself distracted, which kept her mind off of everything. She didn’t need this suffocating feeling to overcome her right now. As soon as he had said the words, there was Jamie, dying in her arms once more. Dillan hastily swallowed the pill then changed her clothes before meeting Trey back in the living room.

  Twenty minutes later, they were walking into Finley’s. The dimly lit pub had a few pool tables and a small stage that was currently unoccupied at the moment. Dillan waved at the black-haired bartender before pulling herself onto a stool.

  “Dillan, haven’t seen you in a while.” The other woman smirked before placing a beer in front of her.

  “Yeah, been laying low.” Dillan shrugged then motioned towards Trey. “He’ll have the same thing.”

  Trey saw the woman’s shocked reaction to his presence in her blue eyes, though she didn’t say anything as she got him a beer. Once they each had a drink in hand, Dillan led Trey over to a rounded booth in the far side of the room. They sat across from each other, both silently drinking as they surveyed the small crowd. Finally after several minutes, Dillan cleared her throat, speaking just loud enough for Trey to hear her over the music playing.

  “So I saw your drawing of the stream.” His eyes darted up at her words. “You left your sketchbook open on the floor last night when you fell asleep.” Dillan explained.

  “It was really something. I wish I could draw like that.” She offered him a smile.

  “Thanks. I used to want to study architecture. Now I just draw to calm myself.” Trey told her.

  “I also saw the picture of the woman you drew… That was your mother wasn’t it?”

  “It was.” Trey kept his eyes on the label of his bottle, refusing to give away what the tone in his voice did. Dillan wanted to press further. She wanted to ask him about the name he had mumbled. She wanted to know who Andrew was. Yet she found herself disarmed once again. Even as he tried to hide it, Dillan saw the pain that flickered across his face when she asked about his mother.

  “She was very beautiful.” Dillan reached over, her hand patting the top of his as it rested on the table. Trey watched her hand for a moment, until she awkwardly withdrew it back into her lap.

  He didn’t mean to make her withdraw her touch. In fact, it was comforting to feel Dillan's hand there, knowing that someone else could understand how he felt when he looked at that image. But in the end, these moments, these connections he felt with her, would only make it more difficult to tell her the truth. He could feel her watching him again, trying to discern what was going on behind his far-off stare. Once more, he had to stave off the need to tell her the truth. He took a large gulp of beer then looked up at her.

  "You would have liked her. She was a lot of fun." Trey said. Some of the more pleasant memories of his mother immediately flooded back, momentarily forcing away the ever present one of her demise. She was beautiful, with long wavy black hair, blue eyes and an infectious smile. Despite Trey’s extensive history of troublemaking as a child, she never grew mad at him. It had been frustrating for Trey at times. It wasn’t that he could do no wrong in her eyes. It was that no matter what he did wrong, she still loved him just as much.

  He could still hear her words as she kissed his cheek, “You’re my son, I know there is good in you.” Then her hand would gently pat the crucifix that still hung around his neck even now. She had given both him and Jamie each their own when they had gone through their first communion as children. His fingertips found the silver charm hidden under his t-shirt as his eyes met Dillan’s again. She was watching him with intrigue as she finished off her drink.

  “You look like you need another drink too.” Her lips pursed together into a tight line before she walked back to the bar. Can’t fight you on that one, Trey thought as he saw her flag down the bartender again. He watched as Dillan and the bartender spoke, the other woman was eyeing him curiously once again. They were obviously discussing his appearance. Dillan shook her head, looking down at the bar. He was almost relieved that he couldn’t hear them from the booth. Surely whatever was said about him couldn’t be good.

  “Here you go,” Dillan slid the beer in front of Trey as she sat back down.

  “You alright?” He asked.

  “Jamie was popular around these parts,” Dillan shrugged, “Obviously they are going to be a little puzzled by the sight of you.”

  “Not that I’m not grateful, but I’m sure wearing his clothes today didn’t really help. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror.” Trey sighed. Dillan only shrugged.

  “With or without your presence, reminders of him are around every corner, Trey. I would see Jamie everywhere in Midtown, even if you never walked into my life.” Dillan said with a smile, though her eyes now held a watery gleam. She turned her face away from him, tipping the bottle to her lips. Now he was the one that wanted to reach his hand out to her to comfort her, and tell her things would get better. Surely one day, for her anyways, things would get better.

  Leave her alone Trey. You’ll only make it worse.

  Dillan blinked a couple times as she turned back toward Trey, having suppressed any tears that were attempting to surface. An artificial calm swept over her slowly as the minutes passed and her bottle grew lighter.

  “Sometimes a drink or two chases him away for a little while. But as soon as it wears off, he comes back.” Dillan drew in a deep breath and leaned back against the booth. Just then, a slower Guns N’ Roses song had started playing over the speakers. It was one she remembered walking down the stream to many times as a teenager. With one last swig, and a curious smirk, Dillan polished off her drink, letting the bottle clink against the table as she stood. A small crowd of couples had formed, embracing one another as they moved to the unhurried tempo. Dillan mixed in with them, swaying alone, eyes shut as her lips moved with the words.

  As her body shifted, everyone else seemed to disappear. Sometimes, it was all she could do to push Jamie, her parents, and the years with her grandmother out of her mind. Let the music play loud enough and it will drown everything else out.

  From the booth, Trey could see the telltale glint of tears catch the light as she moved in her own little melancholy dance. Try as he might, he couldn’t help but
to pull himself to his feet. His brother had been telling the truth when he told him of Dillan’s ability to lure you in.

  “When she smiles, when she laughs, I just want to bathe in it, soak up every bit of its sunshine. When she cries, all I want to do is hold her, keep her from feeling that way ever again.”

  Trey understood his brother’s words now, as he stepped closer to Dillan, and held his hand out to her. Dillan’s dampened lashes lifted above her eyes, and even as Trey knew this would just make it harder on them both, a sense of relief settled over him as she curled against his chest and laid her head against his shoulder. Trey loosely draped his arms around her; he could feel her muscles relax against him as they quietly danced.

  Dillan didn’t dare look up at him, afraid that once again there would be Jamie. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself further into the music because even then, the memories of her and Jamie dancing on the very same floor threatened her from the dark recesses of her mind. She was growing so tired of the constant battle with her subconscious, always having to ward off thoughts of Jamie for the sake of self-preservation. Having to numb herself from the open scars that stung her daily. Whether it was right or wrong, she was glad that Trey was holding her then. She felt relaxed, and relieved.

  At least one other person in this world knows what I’m going through.

  It was nearing the end of the song before Dillan noticed it. Trey had stopped moving, and his arms that had loosely been cradling her, had tensed around her protectively. She turned her head then, looking up at his face. That same silent anger from the day before had fixed itself around his eyes again, as the sides of his mouth tightened and his jaw clenched.

  “Trey?”

  “Dillan, we should go.” He said, not taking his eyes off of the unknown subject of his hateful glare. As Dillan pulled out of his arms, she attempted to follow his line of sight, but only found an empty corner of the pub.