“Will you ever come back?”
“I’ll never leave,” he said with a choking laughter. “You just won’t see me anymore. I can’t leave you, you know?”
“Can I talk to you?”
Carl leaned forward weakly and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Always,” he answered.
“Where will you be?”
Carl sighed as he kept his lips to his baby’s hair. “Everywhere you are.” He pulled away and smiled, before adding, “Where I can watch you with health in my heart.”
Dylan imagined him floating above her. In all the things she’d learn from her parents and church, she never truly understood the idea of being watched by people she herself could not see. She found at that point she was willing to believe anything if it meant her father could still exist beyond his untimely and completely unjust death.
“Now, I want you to remember something for me,” he demanded sweetly.
Dylan smiled through her tears. “Anything.”
“Someday you’re going to fall in love. Someday you’re going to fail. Someday you’re going to be broken. You have to keep the fight inside you—the fight that I love about you—the fight that makes you Dylan.”
She nodded, sending more tears down her gleaming, wet cheeks and onto her soaked shirt.
“Promise me you’ll remember how wonderful you are. Promise me you’ll allow yourself to be beautiful, inside and out.”
“I promise.”
“That’s my girl.” Carl ran his hands through her hair and pulled her against his chest. “And when you fall in love, you’ll know that he’s the one because you’ll feel it in your soul. You’ll know when to surrender to it, and you’ll know when to let it go.”
Even then, Dylan pictured Ben.
“And if he breaks your heart, I’ve instructed your brothers to kill him,” he teased. There was some truth to that, though, and Dylan wasn’t surprised.
Nothing else was said between the two of them. Nothing else needed to be done. They quietly watched the sun as it disappeared into the sky and was replaced by an orange moon.
The entire Mathews family stayed in the room with Carl that night. Linda and Dylan slept in the bed with him and the boys spread out in chairs and on the floor.
Ben stayed away, only to leave Carl a note that he could read earlier that day. No one else ever saw it because Carl did exactly what Ben requested at the end, he shredded it to pieces and threw it away.
Carl Mathews died the next morning. It was quiet, expected, and the most difficult thing that any of them would ever do. He left them with laughter in their hearts. He left them with peace in their souls. He left them knowing that they would survive without him as long as they stuck together.
“I don’t know what to say,” Linda said in a sigh. She looked out the window and sipped from her coffee. “Should we have expected this?”
In the Mathews family, when predicaments were exposed, they would band together as Carl had instructed them years before. They filled Linda in on whatever it was, obviously hoping for direction. They would discuss it as a family if there weren’t any answers to be found. In this particular problem, no one was even sure of the question to ask.
“It all makes sense, though, you know?” Hugh said. “He’s been no where to be found, and she hasn’t even been coming home at night. Oh, God, I can’t even wrap my head around it.”
“Why her, though?” Brandon asked angrily. “Out of all the girls Ben could have, why her?”
“Are you saying she’s not good enough for him?” Charlie asked with an eyebrow raised. “She’s the best he’d ever get.”
“I didn’t say he was too good for her, dumbass. I’m asking why he would choose to make our little sister one of his castaways.” Brandon seemed to get more agitated as he spoke. “You really think he didn’t use her?”
“Oh, man, that sucks,” Hugh groaned. He placed his forehead onto the table. “I can’t even think of it.”
“I don’t think he used her,” Charlie said. “I think there really was something there and he lost it when his mother did what she did. I think it makes sense for them to be together.”
“Don’t defend him!” Brandon shouted.
“Do we have to kick his ass now? I mean, is that even okay to do?” Hugh held his turning stomach. “This is Ben. I can’t fight Ben.”
“No one’s fighting Ben!” Charlie’s voice was slowly rising. He stood to his feet and looked at Brandon. “Let’s just see how it plays out. Give it a chance before you go all crazy big brother on him.”
Brandon stood, too. “We’re seeing how it plays out right now. He’s leaving my little sister brokenhearted. Where the hell are your loyalties anyway?”
“With our little sister, of course, but—God—this is Ben we’re talking about. He might as well have our last name!” Charlie looked at Linda. “Mom?”
“Beating up Ben won’t make anyone feel better. I think we should just leave it alone,” Linda answered. She was torn and it showed all over her sad expression. “He’ll never come back here anyway. I’ve heard he may be getting ready to put Ruth’s house on the market.”
“See?” Brandon said. “He’s gone. He’s leaving her.”
Jonah sat, arms crossed, chewing on his lower lip. For the entire morning he had said nothing, leaving little input to his own feelings on the matter. One thing was certain to them all: he was ridiculously lost over the whole thing.
He stood in the middle of the conversation, and slowly walked to the other side of the room as if he hadn’t listened to a bit of their bickering. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he hid in the corner.
No one in that room felt the way he did. Ben was his best friend and Dylan was his twin. He thought, Let them be together if they want. But, he knew better than anyone, Ben was going to break Dylan’s heart. Selfishly, the only thing he questioned was where that left him, stuck between his best friend and his twin sister?
He had to hear Ben out. He needed to know where his head was, how he felt. He hated to ask such invasive questions. After all this time of silence on the matter, though, he deserved to get answers.
“Where are you going?” Brandon asked as Jonah headed for the door. “We’re in the middle of a discussion.”
Jonah said nothing. He only walked out the back door and made his way through the yards.
Jonah’s face looked somewhat different, Ben noticed. At first, he questioned whether he was dreaming; it was difficult to tell the difference these days. Life was more of a blur than anything lately.
“You up?” Jonah asked. He sat straddling a chair, holding a glass of water in one hand and aspirin in the other.
Ben sat up and pressed his throbbing head to his hand. “Hell,” he mumbled.
“It gets worse,” Jonah snapped.
“I don’t want a lecture.”
Jonah stood furiously, knocking the chair to the ground and startling Ben beyond belief. “Maybe that’s exactly what you need, you piece of shit!”
Stunned, Ben stared up at him in bewilderment. He knew it was only a matter of time before this moment came and, as the previous night played over again in his head, he knew this conversation was only fair.
“Do yourself a favor and just shut up, Ben.”
A foreign look of rage rushed through Jonah as Ben tried to grasp the fact that he was on the opposing end of his fury. He must have wanted to unleash this all on him the night before, but Ben’s incoherent brain had been drowning in beer and whiskey. Now, here Jonah was, stewing on it all night and ready to explode. It was strange looking up at him with his angry face looking back.
Ben sighed long and heavy. “All right, get it over with. Tell me what an ass I am.” If there was ever someone who could get away with speaking to Ben this way, it would be Jonah. Ben knew that he owed Jonah a lot after everything he caused the night before. He had a right to be heard.
“You honestly think this is about what you did last night?”
&n
bsp; “Isn’t it?” Ben half-laughed awkwardly, possibly a bit fearfully as this new version of Jonah stood over him with his fists clenched. Would he really punch me? “I got wasted and punched Olerson. Sorry, man.”
“I don’t care about what you did at Oilies. That was just another bar brawl to add to the list.” Jonah stood his ground, refusing to sit again. He seemed as though he was trying to keep his cool, but it didn’t look as if that battle would be won in Ben’s favor.
Yes. Yes, he would definitely hit me. Ben shook his head, hoping it wasn’t what he thought. He turned his head and looked at nothing, suddenly remembering the reason he punched Michael. Oh shit.
“I don’t ask a lot of you. I never have. I didn’t know how serious it was—if there was anything at all, that is.” Jonah looked down and shook his head. “I’ve kept my opinions to myself because I had hoped this was actually something different for you, but I can’t just let you do this to her. I should have stopped it.”
“Oh. That.” Ben’s throat burned. Of course that. “You knew the whole time then?”
“All the times you went up to her room in the middle of the night? How could I not?” Jonah stared and waited. He waited for Ben to gasp, jump, implode—something!
“I don’t know what to say,” Ben said in a cowardly whisper. “I didn’t realize you knew.”
“Say that you’re sorry for hurting my sister. Say that you’ll go over there and fix it. Say something that will make me not want to punch you, anything besides nothing.”
“I can’t fix this, Jonah.” Ben looked down. “I wish I could.”
“Why her?” Jonah growled in frustration as he turned and headed for the door. “You shouldn’t have come back. You should have left her alone.”
“I know,” Ben replied quietly. “That’s why I’m leaving today.”
Jonah laughed sarcastically. “And, let me guess, you have no plans of coming over and telling her to her face.”
Ben shook his head. His chest stung as he allowed his next words to come out. “I am who I am, though, right?”
“You really are a selfish bastard, Ben.” He brought his fist to his mouth, attempting to calm his rampant nerves. “Don’t come back. Leave her alone and, you know what, you can leave me alone, too.”
Jonah left, slamming the door behind him.
Ben watched his brother leave in an angry rage. It was less than what he knew he deserved. He was doing them all a favor that they would never thank him for. As lonely as life would be without the Mathews, he didn’t deserve any of them.
She could hear the chatter from the lower level of her home, and she knew without listening what the conversation was about. It was just another invasion of her life that they all helped themselves to on a regular basis. Why did they always feel it so necessary to invade her privacy?
She reluctantly made her way down the stairs. If it weren’t for the list of supplies she needed to get for her class, she would have stayed in bed all day just to avoid them all. She hadn’t been sure if she would even finish out the semester. That’s how certain she had been that she would be leaving with Ben. She had put the task off for long enough now and her class was getting ready to resume after its long holiday break. The job couldn’t be ignored any longer.
She rounded the corner and flinched, prepared for the worst. Her brothers and Linda stopped speaking and stared at her sympathetically. It was obvious what they thought. Brandon’s face was enraged. The rest of them looked torn and confused. Dylan wanted to scream. They were turning it into their problem.
“Morning,” she said, biting her lip and avoiding an outburst that was sure to make her day worse. She had neither the strength nor the patience to defend herself today.
“Hi, honey,” Linda said in a fake, uppity voice. “Would you like coffee?”
Dylan shook her head. She stared, confused and suspicious by their behavior. They looked at her through careful eyes, gawking as if she were a time-bomb. They looked frightened but thoughtful.
“Hey, Wee—I mean—Dylan,” Jonah began, “we thought you should know—”
Dylan put her hand up to quiet him. “You don’t get to say,” she said sternly, thinking there would be an opinion following his words. She wanted to be clear that nothing they believed would matter to her.
“Ben’s leaving,” he continued. “He’s leaving right now.”
Without a moment’s thought, Dylan ran out the back door. She sprinted through the yards and over the gravel in a garden. She nearly stumbled over a small cactus, forgetting it had been there as long as she could remember. She was clumsy, unfocussed but, most of all, she was determined to get to him. How could he leave her like this?
She cleared the final yard and came to the edge of the curb right across from Ben’s house, stopping with a near screeching halt against the pavement. The scrapes on the bottom of her feet only reminded her too late that she was barefoot. She was in her pajamas and still hadn’t brushed her teeth. She felt ridiculous.
She couldn’t make her feet move another step. She stared at Ben’s house. Unbelievably, it managed to appear even more depressing than before. When Dylan would pass the home on her way out of the subdivision, she would smile, and think, There’s Ruth’s house. On occasion, she would look up towards Ben’s window and smile, hoping for his return. Only now, Ruth was gone and, very soon, Ben’s room would be empty again.
She thought of Ben packing his bag, ignoring Ruth’s closed bedroom door. She imagined the house demolished. She knew that he probably destroyed anything within reach. That was always Ben, polite destruction.
She had no idea what she was even going to say to him this time. She hadn’t thought of a greeting as she ran. She was always so careful with her words with Ben; she handled him fragilely out of fear that he would point out her stupidity. The last few weeks with him made her feel the roles were reversed, but now they had come full circle and she was almost dizzy from the abrupt change their relationship had taken again this time.
A yellow cab sat in the drive as Ben slowly walked from the front door. He looked sad, alone, angry, tired—just about every negative emotion one person could have. She stared as he set the alarm and walked down the stone path that ran to the waiting taxi. She watched, debating whether to call out to him.
Screw it, she thought. He owed her a goodbye. “Ben!”
He stopped walking and froze. His shoulders lifted and then fell as he sighed. He was in the middle of a fast getaway and she was ruining it now. “What?” he asked without looking.
“You could at least look at me.”
He turned slowly, raised his hands at his sides, and asked, “Happy? I’m looking at you.”
“No,” Dylan answered. She stepped down and walked closer to him. She walked like she was moving into battle, and she was in a way. “What are you doing? You don’t want this.”
“You have no idea what I want,” he said. He straightened his black leather bag on his shoulder and turned toward the taxi. His wall of arrogance seemed taller and much thicker than usual.
Dylan stepped after him. “I’m just going to follow you. I’ll get into that cab if I have to.”
“Why are you making this so hard, Dylan?” Ben snapped uncaringly.
“You really don’t know?” Dylan let a tear fall down her cheek. “Because I love you, Ben,” she whispered.
Ben’s jaw tightened. “Well, I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Don’t do that,” he ordered and ran his hand through his hair. “Don’t be such a girl.”
“What?” she asked painfully. “I am a girl.”
“I know you’re a girl,” he grumbled. “Just go back to your house. This conversation isn’t going anywhere. It’s stupid.”
“Ben, let me help you. We can work this out together.” She stepped closer, pleading almost. “What happened to your mom—”
Ben snapped. “What happened to my mom?” he asked
incredulously. “What happened to her was this: while I was off fucking my best friend’s sister, she shoved pills down her throat and died.”
That was her undoing. Dylan’s chest stung, her throat burned. She launched herself at him without thought, and shoved him hard in the chest. She slammed her fists against him, one after the other, until all the energy drained from inside of her. She was breathless, animalistic, and completely devastated.
Ben remained unfazed by it all. “Feel better?” he asked when she was done. “That’s what you wanted, right? The truth?”
There was nothing she could say to make it stop, to change his mind. He was going to do this. He was going to leave. She was sure he would never come back this time.
She backed away slowly while she attempted to catch her breath. She gasped at the painful emptiness he was able to leave behind on her. She was shaken to the core but, as her father had told her years before, she knew it was time to let love go. There was nothing more she could do.
Ben didn’t look at her a second time. He carelessly walked away and got into his cab. As it drove away, passing Dylan as it went, he refused to look at what he was leaving behind. He wouldn’t even give her one last glance.
“You got a clinger not taking the hint?” the driver asked Ben as they sped away. “Sometimes you have to just hit em’ hard.”
“Something like that,” Ben replied quietly.
“Well, it looks like she got it now, though, right? I mean, you demolished her back there.”
“I did her a favor.”
“I don’t think she thanks you,” the driver said with a chuckle.
Ben turned his face and looked out the window. He watched in agony as his neighborhood grew smaller and smaller behind him. “She will,” he whispered, while barely holding on to a falling tear.
Chapter Twelve
Dylan spotted Meredith’s impatient face in the doorway of her classroom. Her cheeks were rosy, a sure sign she was feeling the pre-wedding stress a bit more as the big event closed in. It seemed as if every day there was something new, another emergency that only Dylan could help solve.
Dylan saw through Meredith’s motives, though. One didn’t have to be a Mathews to understand the way they all worked. The wedding was a convenient way to distract her from frequent thoughts of Ben and, Dylan was positive, Charlie asked Meredith to be an even bigger pain than before. They treated her as an explosive, a grenade perhaps, ready to go off at any moment if she continued to bottle up the feelings she refused to release.
Under the Orange Moon Page 15
