by Robin Huber
He reappears by my broken window and reaches inside the car for my hand. “It’s okay, Liv. I’ll get you out.”
I cry hard, feeling comforted by the warmth of his hand. “Jeremy, Gabe needs help and you have to find Brandon. Call 911.”
He ignores me, determined to unbuckle my seatbelt, but it won’t budge. “Fuck!”
“Call 911, Jeremy. Just call 911.”
He pulls out his phone and dials 911 with shaking fingers. “Yes, there’s been an accident...”
After several excruciating long minutes, I hear the faint sounds of sirens in the distance, and a tiny bubble of hope rises inside me. It’s okay. They’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay, I repeat over and over in my head.
Jeremy lets go of my hand and jumps to his feet, screaming for the ambulance. “Over here!”
I reach for Gabe again. My fingertips barely brush his arm, but I can feel how cold he is. “Please don’t leave me, Gabe. Please. I need you.” I hear car doors opening and closing, and the shuffling of feet outside.
“I’ve got two in the car!”
“Please help him. He’s hurt,” I say, squinting into the light that’s shining on my face. “And my brother. He was in the car too.”
“Okay, just calm down. You’re going to be okay,” the officer says, squatting down beside Gabe’s broken window. He’s shining a flashlight into the car and I can see how pale Gabe is in the light. “What’s your name?”
“Liv. Her name is Liv,” Jeremy answers.
“Okay, Liv. We’re going to get you out of there. But I need you to hold on for a few more minutes, all right?”
“No,” I squeak. “Get Gabe out first. Please. He’s cold. And my brother, you have to find him. Please,” I cry.
The officer stands up and walks around to my broken window. He squats down and shines the light on me again. “Liv, we’re going to help your friend too, but we need to get you out first.”
“No, I’m fine. Just please, get him out first.”
Several EMTs surround Gabe’s window and shine their lights on him. He looks...he doesn’t look...I swallow hard. “Is he alive?”
“You said his name is Gabe?” the officer asks.
“Yes.”
“Gabe,” one of the EMTs calls loudly, “can you hear me?” He lifts one of Gabe’s eyelids and flashes a light in his eye, but Gabe doesn’t respond.
“What’s your brother’s name, Liv?” the officer asks.
“Brandon. Please find him.”
“I’ve got a pulse,” the EMT says, touching Gabe’s neck, and I break down into relieved sobs.
I’ve been upside down for too long and I have to work hard for each strangled breath. My arms begin to tingle from the lack of oxygen and suddenly my vision fades to black.
Chapter 3
Liv
By four o’clock in the afternoon, the bright sunlight that filled my apartment this morning has been replaced by the gray shadows of a thunderstorm. I force myself up off the bed, where I collapsed after rigorously cleaning my entire apartment. I started in the kitchen, scrubbing the pots and pans that Travis left, still upset long after he was gone. By the time I swept, mopped, dusted, vacuumed, and shined everything in my apartment, I felt a little better.
I walk into the bathroom and lean over the sink to look at my disheveled reflection in the mirror. My long hair is pulled up into a ratty bun on the top of my head and my eyes are bloodshot. I didn’t wash my makeup off last night before bed, and mascara now stains my cheeks. I’ve been crying all day.
Clean. Cry. Repeat.
I splash some water on my face, but it doesn’t help. I need to take a shower. When the thunder fades, I turn the shower on, assuming it took the lightning with it, and step under the streaming hot water. I wash away the sweat and tears and mascara, but another wave of sadness hits me and more tears flow while I finish my routine.
The accident fractured my life into two distinct parts. It’s the hinge upon which everything swings. On one side is a girl who was wide eyed and excited about her future, and on the other side is a woman who can’t stop crying in the shower.
I miss that girl.
When I’m through, I dry off and put on my pink and gray flannel pajamas that I usually reserve for sick days. Then I grab a box of tissues and climb into my tightly made bed. I pick up my phone and call my mom.
“Hey, sweetie!” she answers exuberantly. “I was just thinking about you.”
I smile softly. “You were? How come?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about our next visit. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”
“Well, you may get to see me sooner than you thought.”
“Sooner than Thanksgiving?” She pauses. “Liv, honey, it’s only June. Daddy can’t take any time off sooner than that. He’s working on a new line and it’s really starting to take off.”
My dad is the head of purchasing for a furniture manufacturer and, after years of working in foreign markets, he’s recently taken an interest in buying and selling locally made items. The thought of my very southern father speaking Mandarin makes me giggle. Usually. Right now, I can barely muster a small smile.
“He won’t need to take any time off work. I’m...coming home.” For the first time in seven years. My throat tightens at the thought.
I clear my throat and wait for my mother to say something.
“Oh, um...”
“It’s time, Momma. I’m ready.”
“What about your job? I thought you were in line for a promotion soon.”
“I’ll find something else. I’m sure there are plenty of editing jobs closer to home,” I say, trying to convince myself.
“Okay. Well, are you okay? Did something happen?”
“No. I mean, not really.” I sigh. “Well, sort of, I guess. But that’s not why I want to come home. It’s just...well, maybe it is, but—”
“For heaven’s sake, Liv, will you just tell me what happened?”
“Nothing happened. Travis proposed last night and—”
“What?” I hear the smile in her voice, but before I can mitigate it, she lays the phone down and calls for my father. “Duke! Duke! Liv got engaged. She’s engaged.” She picks up the phone again.
“Momma! Stop,” I say, trying to reign her in. “I said Travis proposed. I didn’t say I was engaged.”
“Oh.” She whispers something to my father and tries unsuccessfully to hide the disappointment in her voice when she returns. “So, you said no?”
“I said no. I don’t love Travis, you know that.”
“Well, I guess I just thought, I hoped, that something changed.”
“No, nothing’s changed. Being with Travis has only reminded me of what real love feels like.” I pause and there’s more silence. “Momma?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“How...is he?” My heart pounds heavily in my chest. I rarely ask her about Gabe and she rarely volunteers information about him, even though I know she sees him regularly. She and my dad are still very close to his parents.
“He’s...okay,” she says carefully. “Gabe’s doing okay now. He’s working with Daddy, actually.”
“What? He is?” There’s a hopefulness in my voice that I can’t hide. He must be doing so much better now.
My mother hears it too. “Liv, honey, Gabe...isn’t the same. He’s different now. He’s not the person you remember. And I don’t think he’s ever going to be.”
My heart sinks to the deepest part of me and new tears rush to my eyes. “I know.” My Gabriel is gone.
“He is doing a lot better, and we couldn’t be happier about it, but—”
I hold the phone away from my ear and cry quietly into my pillow for a few seconds.
“Liv, maybe it’s not a good idea for you to come back here.” Her voice is laced with worry. “Let me come to you and we’ll work everything out.”
“No, I’m fine.” I wipe my face with a fresh tissue. “I promise, I can h
andle it.” I have to. I can’t keep hiding out in Raleigh anymore. “I need to come home.”
“Okay.” She’s quiet again. “I can’t believe that you’re really coming back.” I hear a small smile in her voice now. “It’s been so long.”
“I know. Me neither,” I say nervously.
“Don’t worry about a thing. Daddy and I will take care of anything you need.”
“Momma, I’m not a little girl anymore. You don’t have to take care of me. I’ll figure everything out when I get there.”
“Okay. You know, Liv, we’re so proud of you. You’ve come so far, since—”
“I know.” I think she and my dad are just happy that I finished college in one piece.
“Are you sure you don’t want me and Daddy to come get you? It’s a long drive by yourself. We could come up next weekend.”
“No. I want to drive myself. I think it will give me time to think about things, clear my head.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll get your room ready.”
“Mom, really, it’s fine. Don’t go out of your way.”
“Your dad has been using it to store all of his fishing gear. It needs a good once-over.”
“Well, as long as there aren’t any fish hooks in my bed.” I laugh softly.
“Oh, Liv, your dad is going to be so happy. He’s missed having you here so much these last few years. So have I.”
“I know. I’ve missed it too.”
“Make sure to get your car serviced before you leave, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And if you need anything at all, just let us know.”
“I will.”
“I love you, honey. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I love you too.”
* * *
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” my best friend, Trisha, says, hugging my neck tightly. Strangling me, actually. “I’m going to miss you so damn much.”
“I’m going to miss you too,” I choke out, peeling her arms off me. “But I have to do this, Trish. I can’t keep forcing a life here that I’m never going to fit into, or I’ll lose what’s left of me.”
She bobs her head and sweeps one of her auburn curls off her face. “I just feel like you’re going to forget about me.”
“Trish, you’ve been my best friend since our senior year in college. You’re literally the only thing that makes me doubt my decision to leave. You’ve been the best part of my life for the last seven years. How could I forget about you?”
She shrugs. “But I’ve only been a part of your life here in Raleigh. How do I fit into your old life in Georgia?”
“I’m not going back to my old life.” My heart throbs a little, because I can’t go back to my old life, no matter how badly I wish I could. “And we’ll still talk all the time. I mean, let’s be real, you’re kind of a talker,” I tease. “It’s not in your nature to go more than twenty-four hours without communicating.”
She laughs and extends her finger. “Pinky promise? You won’t forget about me?”
I smile and wrap my pinky around hers and give it a shake. “Pinky promise. You don’t forget about me. Now that you’re a big-time interior designer.”
“I won’t. I promise. Unless of course I land that job with the hockey player. Then all bets are off.” I laugh and she hugs me again. “I’m kidding. I have every intention of coming to visit you as soon as you get settled in St. Simons.”
“You better.”
“As long as it doesn’t conflict with my hockey player appointments.”
“Trisha!”
“Kidding.” She releases me and squeezes my hand. “Take care of yourself, Liv.”
I nod over the anxious feeling in my stomach. “I will.” I get in my car and put my seatbelt on.
“Call me when you get there,” she says through the open window.
“I will.”
“Or when you’re half way there.”
“Okay.”
“Or even just a quarter of the way.”
“All right,” I laugh, “got it.”
“Or in like, five minutes...if you feel like talking. Or crying. Or just breathing quietly into the phone.”
“If I resort to breathing quietly into the phone, promise that you’ll stop being friends with me.”
“No way, not going to happen. I’m here for you, even if things get weird.”
I laugh freely now, feeling a little lighter. “Okay, Freak, I’m leaving now.”
“Byyyye,” she says with a twang, and pulls her dark sunglasses down off her head to cover her watery eyes. She steps back as I pull away from the curb.
I try not to look back as I drive away, but my traitorous eyes steal a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror. She steps out into the street and begins waving her hands back and forth wildly, and I come to an abrupt stop. Did I forget something?
She bends over laughing and waves me on to go.
“Freak!” I shake my head and narrow my teary eyes at her. I’m really going to miss you.
* * *
The sun is shining and my stomach is full as I make the final leg of my trip home. I hold my phone to my ear for the two seconds it takes Trisha to pick up.
“Hey!”
“Guess where I just ate,” I say to her.
“Um...can you narrow it down to a city for me?”
“Savannah.”
She pulls in an audible breath. “The café where we had brunch last summer?”
I smile, thinking of the weekend she and I spent in Savannah, shopping and eating our way through the historic town. “I did.”
“Did you get the shrimp and grits?”
“Of course. And I devoured it while gazing out at the Intracoastal Waterway.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so jealous.”
“It definitely wasn’t the same without you.”
“Did you get the fried green tomatoes?”
“I was stuffed, but I got some for my dad. They’re his favorite.”
“Okay, well now that my mouth is watering, I’m going to go grab some lunch. Call me when you get there!”
“I will.”
I end the call, turn my radio up, and roll down my windows. The farther away I get from Raleigh, the better I seem to feel. I catch a smile on my face in the rearview mirror and stretch my hand out of my window to feel the warm summer air rushing against my palm. It swirls through my fingers. I raise my hand and lower it again, surfing through the waves of wind.
I breathe in the familiar smell of brackish water as I cross the first bridge over the salt marsh that stretches between the Georgia coast and St. Simons Island, and my eyes scan everything, eager to see the view that was just a memory until now.
The water snakes around the gold and green grass, and sparkles under the sun. There are a couple of small sailboats docked near the shore, rocking gently in the calm water, and two white egrets perched on a tangled branch that’s sticking up out of the water. My heart swells. If I could hug this view I would.
Driving across the Island is somewhat surreal. Everything seems different, though nothing has really changed. I’m guessing it’s probably me who is different.
It doesn’t take me more than fifteen minutes to get to my parents’ neighborhood. As I drive along the familiar streets, I survey the houses. Ms. Baker’s house is just as beautiful as it always was. The traditional southern style ranch, with its wide front porch and big white columns, has always been my favorite house in the neighborhood. Black rocking chairs, hanging green ferns, and an American flag add to its timeless charm. My parents’ house is a traditional two story with a wraparound porch and a covered walkway that leads to the detached garage.
I see my mom and dad waiting for me on the front steps when I pull up the bricked driveway and I wave at them out of my window.
“There’s my girl!” my dad says, hurrying over to open my car door.
“Hey, Daddy!�
�
“I can’t believe my baby girl is finally home.” He opens my door and pulls me out of my car and into his arms.
“I’m practically an old maid now.”
“You’ll always be my baby girl,” he says, squeezing me tight.
“Hi, Momma,” I mumble over his shoulder.
She squeezes in and my dad wraps his arm around her too. “Both my girls back under one roof.”
It’s hard not to smile at his excitement, but when he releases me, I see a familiar sadness in his eyes. He quickly masks it and grabs a few of my bags from the car, and then we head inside.
When I walk through the front door, I breathe in the familiar scent of the house and it comforts me and saddens me at the same time. How can one bad year overshadow twenty-one good ones? It doesn’t seem fair. I sigh quietly and try not to think about those difficult months as I follow my mom to the kitchen.
“Made your favorite,” she says, pointing to the cake stand that held all of our birthday cakes growing up. “Coconut cake.”
“Oh, wow, that looks amazing.” I squeeze her hand and smile softly. “Let’s have a piece,” I say, knowing how happy it makes her to feed us.
“Don’t you want to get unpacked first?”
“Nope.” I shake my head and lean over the counter to look at it.
She smiles and lifts the glass lid off the beautiful, fluffy white cake.
My dad opens his fried green tomatoes and gobbles them up before she even makes the first cut. “Oh, man. Thank you, baby,” he says to me, throwing the box away.
I give him a one-armed hug around his wide waist. “You’re welcome.”
The three of us sit around the kitchen table, trying to enjoy the delicious cake that my mother made, but not even my father can hide how much it hurts to be back together without Brandon. I place my hand over his and he smiles softly over his sadness. “You don’t have to be strong for me, Daddy.”
He lowers his head and then looks at me with weary eyes. “We’ll always miss him, won’t we?”
I get up and wrap my arms around his neck. “Yes.”
I feel my mom’s hand on mine. “Come on, honey. Brandon wouldn’t want us to be sad today. Today is a day to celebrate. You’re finally home!”
I look up at her smiling face, awed by her strength, and pull myself away from my father. I hug her on my way to the kitchen sink and then I rinse my plate off. “I’m going to head upstairs and start unpacking.”
