by R. K. Lilley
There was a bottle of vodka on the bedside table. It was three quarters empty.
“Oh, Celeste,” Payton exclaimed. Things had deteriorated even further than she’d imagined, and she wasn’t sure how to help her poor, grief-stricken sister.
Bethany’s reaction was not quite so sympathetic. Their mother visibly bristled. She’d raised her daughters to honor their obligations and never shirk their duties, so Payton knew this was particularly difficult for her to witness. “What on earth is going on here, Celeste?” Her voice rang out sharply.
Celeste didn’t react. In fact, she didn’t even look at them.
“Wallowing in self-pity is unacceptable! This needs to stop right now!” Bethany’s voice cracked out like a whip. “You still have two children who need you!” She paused, and added, almost as an afterthought, “And a husband.”
“And a sister. And a mother. We miss you, Celeste.” Payton’s voice was as soft with sympathy as Bethany’s was hard with reproach.
Payton moved into the room and set the tray down on top of a dresser. She carefully took a seat at the foot of Celeste’s large bed. She picked up the nearest photograph by its corner, not at all surprised to find that it was a picture of Jacob. It’d been taken at a nearby swimming hole. He was maybe fourteen, surrounded by his friends, clearly about to jump into the water. She smiled at the goofy expression on his face. He’d been such a delightful boy. God, she missed him. She couldn’t even imagine how much worse the pain of his loss would be if it had been Jeffry.
Which brought them here. To her poor sister.
Celeste’s eyes were finally focused on her. Touching one of her precious pictures had clearly gotten her attention.
“Be careful with that,” Celeste warned, the words slurred.
Payton’s eyes moved to the mess on the bed. She didn’t think her sister realized the damage she herself was doing to all of the photographs, but that was clearly beside the point. She set the picture down carefully.
“Would you like something to eat?” Payton asked her gently. “Or drink? I brought you water, juice, coffee, toast. Or if you don’t want that, then maybe you’ll let me help you get dressed, and we’ll go downstairs for lunch? Or is it dinner?” she asked no one in particular, forging on. “Lacey’s gone to grab some things from the store for us. I’ll make you anything you want. A solid meal will help, I promise.”
“I’m not hungry,” Celeste said dully. Her eyes moved briefly to the bottle by the bed. “Or thirsty.”
Bethany had clearly had it. She moved closer to the bed. “Enough is enough, Celeste! You need to snap out of this! Get out of that bed right this minute!”
Celeste didn’t even seem to hear her. She was back to her pictures.
“Come on,” Payton told her, careful to keep her tone steady and patient. “Why don’t you get up, and I’ll brush your hair? And I’m sure a cup of coffee will do you wonders. It’s just how you like.”
Celeste just shook her head.
“Celeste! You heard your sister.”
“No,” Celeste said, her voice empty and final, but she still didn’t so much as glance at Bethany. “No. Just leave me alone.”
Clearly, Celeste wasn’t going to listen.
“I don’t know else to do.” Payton sighed as she and her mother walked back down the stairs. “Nothing we said or did seems to have gotten through. It’s like she’s just given up.”
“I had no idea she was this despondent,” Bethany said. “It breaks my heart to see her like this. Unfortunately, I don’t know what else we can do.”
“Finding Travis might be a good start.” They walked into the usually cheerful kitchen, but somehow without her sister, the place seemed cold and empty.
“I wish your father were still alive,” her mother said. “He’d know what to do.”
Payton reached for her mother’s hands. “We’ll figure something out.” They stood for a moment just holding on to each other and then said their good-byes.
Payton lingered in the kitchen for a time after her mother left. She was waiting for Lacey to return from the store, but her niece was taking her sweet time.
She smiled to herself. Teenagers.
Frankly, Payton hoped that something fun had caught Lacey’s attention. Any kind of a distraction would be a welcome relief. Her niece had also been hit hard by Jacob’s death.
She tried twice more to get her sister to speak to her with no success, and when, after another hour, she found Celeste asleep, she left, her heart breaking over her sister’s condition.
When she found herself knocking on Francine’s door, she didn’t even remember making the decision to come by. It’d been an instinctual move. She needed advice, but more than that, she sought comfort, and her friend had become the best remedy for that.
Francine let her in, and they both headed straight for the kitchen. The other woman poured her a glass of wine, anticipating Payton’s need without her even having to ask.
She took the drink gratefully, and they smiled at each other.
“Tough day?” Francine asked. She always seemed to know.
Payton nodded.
“Come on. Let’s go sit on the sofa. You can tell me about it.”
They sat hip to hip as Payton unloaded on her friend. Francine was the only person in her life that she felt she could share everything with. Every opinion and every burden. By the time she’d gotten all of it out, her head was resting on the other woman’s shoulder. Payton’s free hand was engulfed in both of Francine’s, and her friend was rubbing it soothingly, massaging her palm, working gently at each finger.
Her glass of wine was nearly gone. “Can I get you another?” Francine asked.
Payton was tempted to say yes, but she already felt just a little too uninhibited. “No, thank you. This was perfect. Thank you for listening.”
“Always. I mean that. And as for your sister, I think you just need to keep trying. Don’t give up on her. Everyone deals with grief differently, some better than others, and as long as she knows you’re there for her, I think she’ll come around when she’s ready.”
“I hope so. All of this is so hard. I’m also worried about Travis. He’s withdrawn just as much into his work as Celeste has into herself.” She paused. “This is just the sort of thing that can fracture a marriage, and if you want my opinion, I think they were already on shaky ground to begin with.”
Payton felt Francine’s body move as she let out a big sigh. She entwined their fingers together. “You may be right. But all you can do is be there for your sister. The rest is up to them.”
“What would I do without you, Francine?” Payton asked softly. This woman had become so essential to her that she honestly didn’t want to contemplate the possibility.
She felt her dearest friend press her cheek softly to the top of her head. “You’ll never have to find out.”
CHAPTER THREE
Since Jacob’s death, Lacey had pretty much been convinced that Ginny Moreno was the cause of all of her problems. It had been almost satisfying to watch the other girl brought low, but now, Lacey had come to the unpleasant realization that even with Ginny out of the picture, Lacey’s life remained as messy as ever—more so, if she was honest.
Maybe Ginny wasn’t the problem in her life.
Or at least not the only problem.
Lacey’s family was still falling apart. Her mother was despondent. Her father was absent. Her older sister was busy. And her brother was gone. Forever.
It was only when she felt she’d been abandoned by everyone that she’d begun to realize just what that meant, how lonely it made her, and how ill-equipped she was to deal with the reality of Jacob’s loss.
Normally she would have turned to her friends for comfort. Only, thanks to her own stupidity, she didn’t have any friends now. She’d alienated them all, and for what?
She wasn’t even sure. At the time, she’d been so wrapped up in proving to Mallory that she could get Luis Moreno for herself.
/>
Of course, she hadn’t proven that. She’d proven the opposite. But that wasn’t what was so awful about the whole thing.
The worst part was that she’d lost her best friend. That she had deserved to lose her best friend. Her escapades had been wild. Mindless. She hadn’t given a thought to how they’d hurt anyone else. She hadn’t wanted Luis. And she certainly hadn’t wanted to hurt Mallory. She’d simply wanted a few brief distractions from the real issue, which was the pain of losing her brother. A pain she’d done a lot to distract herself from.
It was only now hitting her just how pointless and destructive she’d become.
The barrage of thoughts ran through her head as she lugged the last of the groceries to the car, all the while hoping that her aunt and grandma could manage what she, her father, and her sister had not.
Please, she prayed. Somehow let them get through to Mom.
Everything would be better if her mom would just act like herself again. Things would fall back into order, and her dad might even stop working so much. He was gone more often than he was home. The pharmacy wasn’t even open for as many hours as he was working at it, so surely that couldn’t last forever.
She opened the trunk and dropped the bags with the fruits and vegetables she’d picked up at the small farmer’s market on the square into the car, and then stood there, realizing she didn’t want to go home.
The only problem was that she didn’t have anywhere else to go.
How sad was that?
She slammed the trunk and started walking aimlessly, only realizing where she’d headed when she nearly bumped into Anna Mae Prager right smack in front of the Storm Oak.
“Excuse me.” Lacey stepped back, holding up both hands.
“Not at all. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” The older woman smiled. Something she saw in Lacey’s expression seemed to give her pause. “Are you all right?”
“No. Not really,” she said, staring up at the old tree. “Jacob loved this spot.”
“Oh, Lacey. I’m so sorry. Jacob was such a nice boy. We all miss him. You more than most, I suspect.” She sighed. “Maybe we should find you somewhere to sit down?”
Frowning, Lacey looked around. The closest bench was across the square. “There ought to be a seat under this tree. Someplace to sit beneath the branches in the shade.”
“I never thought about it, but you’re right.” Anna Mae nodded to her sister, Rita Mae, as she came up to stand beside them. Lacey had always liked the two sisters. Rita Mae was older by a little bit and definitely more straight-laced than her sister. But they were both good people.
“What have the two of you been talking about?” Rita asked, her gaze full of concern as she studied Lacey.
Anna Mae looked over at the tree and then back at her sister. “We’ve been remembering Jacob. And we were talking about benches. Lacey was wondering why there isn’t one beneath the tree.” She pointed at the thick trunk. “Right there.”
Put that way it seemed like a brilliant idea. An idea began forming in Lacey’s mind. “Do you think the mayor would allow a bench here?” she asked.
Anna Mae smiled gently. “Won’t know until you ask.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. It was your idea, after all. You can organize a campaign to make it happen. Raise the money and get permission. Place a bench for Jacob, right here. Everyone will want to help.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Lacey said, but she could feel excitement building inside her.
“A memorial bench in Jacob Salt’s honor,” Rita Mae exclaimed. “What a sweet thing for you to do for your brother’s memory. It’s perfect.”
“Come back to the B&B with us,” Anna Mae added. “I know I have just the contacts to call for that bench.”
Swept up in their enthusiasm, Lacey followed the sisters to their place. While she waited for Anna Mae to dig through her contacts, Rita Mae offered a plate of cookies and a glass of cold milk.
“I ought to bake my own,” Rita Mae confided. “But no one makes white chocolate macadamia cookies as good as Marisol’s.”
Lacey smiled as she reached for another cookie. It had been years since she’d had milk and cookies. The sisters clearly thought she was still a child, but she didn’t mind one bit. It felt good to have someone mother her.
Her heart twisted. It had been a long time since anyone had.
“If you want, you can stay for dinner,” Rita Mae said as she took away the empty plate. “We always have more than enough food, and we’d be happy to have you.”
Lacey thought that sounded great. She knew this was where Mallory worked, but her ex-best friend was nowhere to be seen, so it wasn’t even awkward. She opened her mouth to respond with a yes when she recalled that she still had the groceries.
“Sounds wonderful, but I can’t,” she said. “I was running errands for Aunt Payton, and I need to get back. I appreciate the thought though.”
“That’s fine,” Rita Mae said. “Another time.”
She beamed at the older woman, basking in the warmth of her smile. “I’d love that.”
“Here you go,” Anna Mae said as she walked over to hand Lacey a piece of paper with a list of names and numbers. “That should be everything you need to get started on planning the bench for your brother.”
Lacey slid the paper into her purse, feeling energized in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you so much,” she said and meant it. Sometimes it seemed help came from the most unexpected places.
Her heart lighter, she said good-bye to the Pragers and headed home, groceries in tow.
The house was quiet when she arrived, her aunt and grandmother already gone, and she was pretty sure that their visit hadn’t gone as they’d intended it. Still, Lacey thought with a sudden wave of optimism, perhaps she would be the one to get her mother’s attention locked onto something productive.
The memorial bench had swiftly gone from being a random idea to a concrete one in Lacey’s mind. It not only gave her something to do, it meant that her mother could help as well. And that could only be a good thing. In fact, the bench might just be a way to bring her whole family together and honor Jacob’s memory all at once.
She was so convinced that it was the remedy they all needed that she went straight up to her parents’ room to tell her mother. This was just the sort of work that her mom excelled at. Surely this was something that would pull her mom from her lethargy.
She went in without knocking. She knew from experience she’d get no answer.
“Mom,” she said, rushing over to where her mother sat huddled on the bed. “Today when I was in town, I had a wonderful idea. Something we can do for Jacob.” The words spilled out in a rush. “I’m going to organize a drive to finance a memorial bench under the Storm Oak. For Jacob. Won’t that be perfect?”
No response. Her mom didn’t even look up from the photo she was staring at.
“Mom? Will you help me?”
“Not right now, Lacey,” her mother said, not even bothering to look up. Lacey’s heart plummeted. But then maybe she just needed to enlist more help.
Her sister would know what to do.
It took a few hours, several texts, and three phone calls to get hold of her, but Sara Jane finally answered, heard her out, and responded enthusiastically to the idea of the memorial bench.
“So you’ll help me?” Lacey asked her sister.
“Of course I will. We can start by raising money at the shops on the square.”
“That’s a great idea, but I also want to Mom to help, too,” Lacey interrupted. “This is just the sort of thing she’s best at. I’m hoping it’ll help pull her out of her depression.”
“It’s a good thought.” Sara Jane hesitated. “Have you spoken to her about it yet?”
“I tried,” Lacey replied, resignation filling her voice. “But she wouldn’t listen. Maybe if you talk to her? Call her? Or come by or something?”
; “I hate for you to get your hopes up.” Her sister sighed heavily enough that Lacey winced. “And she definitely won’t answer if I call, but yes, I’ll come over in a bit. Is Dad home yet?”
“No.”
There was another sigh on the other end of the phone, but her sister’s voice was gentle with affection when she said, “I’ll be over soon.”
Lacey made use of the contacts Anna Mae had given her while she waited. It was late, so the retailers were closed, but most had websites where she could compare prices or submit a form to request an estimate. She needed an idea of how much money they would need to fund the bench. She intended to follow Anna Mae’s advice to get several estimates before she decided who to order from, and from just this cursory research she could tell that Anna Mae had been right. The prices varied greatly.
Sara Jane showed up at the house less than an hour later. “Still no sign of Dad?”
Her sister sounded surprised, but Lacey wasn’t. She doubted he’d be home for hours yet—sometimes he didn’t come home until everyone else was asleep—but she simply said, “No.”
“Oh. Well. Doesn’t matter. We can talk to Mom about it first.”
“If anyone can get her attention, it’s you,” Lacey told her.
Her sister smiled but it was strained. Together they walked up the stairs to their mother’s room. Lacey didn’t think Celeste had moved an inch.
Sara Jane will get through to her, she reassured herself again. Her sister had always had a way with their mother. She had a way with everyone, really.
Sara Jane went directly to Celeste, perching tentatively on the bed, right at her hip. Her hand covered one of their mother’s, and for a second Lacey thought she saw a light in her mother’s eyes that had been absent for too long.
“Mom,” Sara Jane began, “we have a family project we’re working on. Lacey came up with a wonderful idea to honor Jacob, and I just know you’ll want to be involved.”
“Sara Jane,” Celeste said softly, like she was just now seeing her daughter.
Sara Jane smiled at her tenderly. “Yes. It’s me. We need your help. Lacey, tell her your idea.”
