by Lexy Timms
“You might want to make sure you’re reaching into the poverty-stricken in this city and pulling them up because it’s a moral code or if it’s because you couldn’t help your brother,” he said.
“Michael, sit down,” my mother said.
“Before you go slinging the fact that we’re selfish and detached and not dealing with our sadness and guilt property, maybe you should make sure you’re not being any of those things yourself,” my father said.
I stood there in silence, not quite knowing what to say. For the first time in years, the rational part of me succumbed to what my father was saying. The rational part of me understood he had a point. Part of my want to reach into that community and help them was fueled by my guilt for not being more attentive to my brother. Part of the reason I started that outreach was purely for selfish reasons. Part of the reason I kept it going was that I felt I was somehow atoning for the sins I still carried around regarding my brother’s demise.
But part of me also knew I did it because I wanted to and because there were too many people who needed help in this world who were cast out by people like my parents. People who turned their back on others when they thought the situation was hopeless and when they felt there was nothing else they could possibly do.
I wanted to show those people there was still hope because I knew what it was like to be truly, unabashedly hopeless, and I never wanted to make anyone feel like that again.
They were trying to manipulate me like Hailey had, and I wasn’t going to stand for it.
“Maybe part of my want to help the community is a bit selfish,” I said as I stepped away from the table. “But there’s still something that differentiates what I do from what the two of you want me to do.”
“Bryan, sit back down,” my mother said.
“And what is that?” my father asked. “What makes you so different from the people who raised you?”
“I’m not actively trying to write John out of my life,” I said. “In fact, I do this in his honor like the memorial services you two refuse to attend. I might be helping the community to try and keep my guilt at bay, but I’m also providing hope to those who need it most. There’s a difference between doing something in someone’s honor and doing something to discard someone’s honor.”
“And you think your brother had honor?” my father asked. “After shooting himself full of heroin and deserting his family? You think your brother had honor?”
“No,” I said breathlessly. “But he did have something the two of you never will.”
Their eyes were fully trained on me as I walked toward the door. I put my hand on the doorknob and twisted it, allowing myself to be hit with the soft smells of the salted ocean. I closed my eyes and reveled in it, thinking about how this would be the last time I would ever stand in my childhood home and relish in the memories that always made me smile.
Memories of me and John running around playing tag, irritating my mother while my father swung us around. They had been so different back then, so loving and so open and not yet jaded by the world and obsessed with their social calendars.
Not until my father made his first twenty million, anyway.
“He had decency,” I said. “And that’s something the two of you will never have.”
Then, before they could get a word in edgewise, I was out the door and headed for my truck. Except this time, I didn’t feel angry or saddened or defeated.
I felt lighter than I had felt in a long time, and that could only mean one thing.
Hailey was right. I needed to talk with her, but this time, I’d have to seek her out.
Chapter 10
Hailey
Anna was walking around the gallery while I sifted through the mail. I shut the gallery down on Sundays, so I could have a day to myself, but I also used that time to paint and hang up all the new editions on the walls. Anna was helping me pick out which paintings to put up next while I sifted through the mail. So many local artists wanted a slice of the space I had along with the audience I’d garnered, which was wonderful, but it also meant that some weren’t as popular as others. A few paintings from a local artist who hadn’t opened her own gallery yet were flying off my walls faster than she could paint them, but Max’s paintings were still hanging on the walls.
Which was tough, because the couple of paintings I’d given him at the beginning of the week had already sold.
I honestly wasn’t sure what to tell him, but I knew I’d hear from him eventually. The business cards he left were being drained every week, so there was some sort of interest in his artwork. Maybe I’d tell him that the paintings he hung here could be advertisement for his gallery. I’m sure the next time I saw him, he’d tell me his paintings were flying off his own wall.
There were a few people who were interested in advertising here. They wanted to pay me a small sum to put up flyers and emboss their logos and stuff all around my studio. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do something like that, though Anna thought it would be a good stream of revenue for the place. It took me a great deal of time and working with Bryan to get the feel of this place just right, and I felt like logos and flyers and some sort of cork board would throw everything off.
I set all those letters aside for now before I turned back to Anna.
She was hanging up a painting she’d found by one of my previous art therapy students. I could remember her face even as she hung it up on the wall. It was a ghostly scene of a cemetery, perfect for the Halloween season. It was a portrait of sorts. The woman in the photo standing in the middle of the foggy cemetery was herself. She was looking down at a gravestone with the name Florence Carlyle on it. From the outside, it simply looked like a woman in mourning.
What people didn’t understand was that the woman in the painting, my art therapy student, was Florence Carlyle. She’d painted the picture while she was going through her rehab classes to remind herself that’s where she was headed. If she didn’t stop the alcohol and the pills, she would end up in a grave like that one.
I had to swallow back my tears as I looked away from the painting.
“I think this one goes well with the Halloween thing you got going on,” Anna said.
“It’s perfect,” I said, nodding. “Way to go.”
“Hailey, you okay?” she asked.
“I’m still in shock a bit. You quit your job, Anna?”
“Out of all the people who I expected to be shocked in a bad way, you were the last person I suspected,” she said, grinning.
“Trust me, this is not a bad thing. You were miserable. I just expected you to fly off to Europe or something instead of coming here,” I said.
“Well, my vocal coach referred me to someone out here she thought was great. He’s still giving lessons and actually sang at The Met quite a few times. I figured I could study with him, maybe take a part-time job somewhere to keep myself afloat and let my investments grow a bit before I head off into the night sky.”
“Wait. So, you’ve given this a lot of thought,” I said.
“When have I ever not given it a lot of thought?” she asked. “Hailey, you were my inspiration. I was tired of living a life I didn’t like, a life I wasn’t proud of. You were the one who showed me how beautiful a life by my own rules could be. You and Bryan and Drew. Though I’m ready to kill Bryan, that’s for sure.”
My mind wafted back to that night when I’d collapsed into my sister’s arms after Bryan used my body and tossed it out into the night. I could remember crying all over her clothes while she held me close, not being able to talk about it for a solid hour because I’d cried my voice away. I could remember how angry Anna was with him and how she’d been ready to knock down his door and beat him into oblivion.
My reasoning was he had been drunk and probably wouldn’t remember the encounter in the morning.
“I’m really sorry for showing up so abruptly. I know I’ve done that to you on some many occasions, and I want to thank you for taking me in,” Anna said.
“You think it’s too cold for milkshakes?” Anna asked.
“What kind of question is that?” I asked.
I closed the gallery for now, and we walked across the street to Drew’s Diner. I came over here every once in a while to eat lunch, but these past few weeks had been so busy that I ended up working right through my break. The two of us sat down in a booth in the corner and immediately ordered milkshakes, and I got a plate of fries for us to share while we figured out what to eat for lunch.
“So, you were complimenting me on being a wonderful role model,” I said.
“You would latch onto that,” she said, smirking. “I saw how you were following your dream out here in July, and it made me realize I was tired of being a corporate drone.”
“Do you want to get your own place, or should we rearrange the apartment?” I asked.
“Oh, no. Eventually, I’ll get my own place. I’m not going to do all that to you.”
“Well, the offer still stands. If we split the rent, you’d only be paying three hundred a month.”
“But then we’d be on top of each other all the time, and I’d be ready to kill you,” she said.
“Thanks for that. So, are you looking for a place then? What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Well, I guess I kind of started the move a couple of weeks ago.”
“What do you mean?” I asked as the plate of fries were set onto the table.
“Ready to order?” the waitress asked.
“Give us about twenty minutes, and we’ll be ready,” I said, smiling.
“Wonderful. Just flag me down. I’m gonna go take my break,” the waitress said.
“A couple of weeks ago, I started heavily investing. I took my retirement fund and rolled it over into a moderate-risk account, took the savings account Mom and Dad were having me keep for retirement purposes and invested that into a moderate-risk IRA, and took the savings account I was building for emergency purposes and invested that into yet another account I could eventually draw from.”
“Good for you,” I said. “Investing’s how I got most of my money for this gallery.”
“I still have a savings account I keep for generic purposes, and right now, that’s what I’m dipping into for all this. I’ve still got some paychecks that’ll dump into my account over the next three months, so I should be set up in a new place before then.”
“How are you still getting paid when you quit?” I asked.
“Because I schmoozed my boss. I told him I wasn’t happy, and I just sort of gave him my life story? He told me he’d cash in all my vacation and paid leave time before he submitted my two-week notice crap.”
“That is awesome, Anna. Seriously,” I said. “What places are you looking at in San Diego?”
“Honestly, I’m not really sure. I haven’t started looking. I figured I could spring all this on you and then get you to help.”
“Of course. In any way I can. Where does this vocal coach live? You should probably set up within twenty or thirty minutes of him,” I said.
“That’s a good idea. I haven’t even checked that out yet. My teacher said he was in the San Diego area.”
“Wow. You really haven’t thought much about all this yet, have you? Very unlike you. I’m so proud. So, what’s the dream? What’s the end goal?”
“To be happy,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to sing on a stage, but I’d be happy with being a janitor at an opera house and getting discounted tickets to all the shows.”
“Anna, you and I both know you have a voice that needs to be on a stage. And it’s important to set goals. I knew the moment I stepped out of med school that I wanted to open my own gallery someday. Having a goal like that pushes you. If you could have your dream job, what would it be?”
“I would die to be the premier soprano at the Royal Opera House in London,” she said.
“Then, that’s your goal.”
“You really think I could do something like that?”
“We need to have you recorded one day so you can hear yourself,” I said, chuckling.
“Then, that’s the goal, but for now, I’ve got my money, my education, and time. I’m going to call the vocal coach tomorrow and see where he is in terms of your apartment and then go from there.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me. I wandered around for years before I planted myself somewhere. Give yourself the time to adjust,” I said.
“I just feel better here. You’re here, Mom and Dad aren’t here, and my old job is nowhere near here. It feels ...”
“Relaxing? Right? Perfect? Like you’re happy?”
“Yes to all of them,” she said. “But I’m not sure how I’m going to handle Mom and Dad.”
“You didn’t tell them?” I asked.
“Oh, no. I did. And now they aren’t talking to me.”
“Welcome to the club. We have T-shirts.”
“Are they really not going to talk to me, Hailey?” she asked.
I reached over the table and took my sister’s hand. I could tell it was bothering her, and it should. It bothered me when my parents put their foot down on my life and cut me out forever. I’d been only nineteen when it happened, but Anna was a grown woman. She’d had Mom and Dad in her life for her entire upbringing, and this was going to be harder for her, harder than it was for me.
“Anna, no matter what, you cannot allow their isolation to pull you back into a life that made you unhappy. Promise me.”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that,” she said, sniffling. “I tried to call them both on their cell phones when I landed, and they shot me to voice mail. And I’m realizing you put up with that for years before you stopped. I’m realizing now why you stopped, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry they did this to you.”
I got up and scooted into the booth seat next to her. I took her in my arms and let her cry into my shoulder, holding her as close as I could get her. It was sickening, how two sisters were bonding over our parents shutting us out because we were happy and wanted to follow our own dreams instead of theirs. She had a long road ahead of her when it came to coping with that particular circumstance, but she had me. I’d make sure she was okay.
“I’ll get my own place soon, I promise,” she said, sniffling.
“There’s no rush. Honestly? It was wonderful having you there after all that stuff with Bryan,” I said.
“I’m still going to kill him. You know that, right?” she asked.
“Like I said, he was incredibly drunk. I could tell that by his breath. He probably doesn’t even remember it.”
“Doesn’t matter. That was some fucked up shit, tossing you out like that. Maybe I’ll toy with his best friend to see how he likes it.”
“You just want an excuse to see Drew,” I said, grinning.
“Not now. Apparently, Drew can be friends with guys who fuck over women. I’m not into that,” she said.
“Anyway, you don’t have to find a place too soon. Having you here is helping me out. Plus, you’ll need the support as the Mom and Dad saga unfolds. And, I’ve been having these awful stress headaches.”
“You gotten them checked out by a doctor?” she asked.
“Nah. It’s not that bad. They’re just migraines. I think I’m pulling too many hours at the gallery, which was why I actually chose to shut down today instead of leaving it open just in case.”
“Do they make you nauseous?”
“Oh, yeah. And my vision shakes, and I have to turn off all the lights,” I said.
“Yep. Migraines. We’ll get you to a drug store and get you some migraine medication. See if that helps next time.”
“Thanks, Anna.”
“
It’s really nothing, Hailey. I promise you, this’ll all get better. Bryan will slowly fade into the background and these headaches will go away and your gallery will skyrocket like it has been. And I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Just that I’ll do what I can to help,” she said.
“Anna, I’m not one of your projects. Don’t sink yourself into something intentionally that derails you from your own dreams. You do that a lot.”
“You mean don’t make you a community outreach project?” she said, grinning.
“Exactly. Don’t root yourself here. Your destiny’s in London, remember?”
“Well, while I’m here, I’ll help in any way I can,” she said.
“You two ready to order?” the waitress asked.
“Ah, yes. Could I get a double cheeseburger with bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles? No sauces on it, please. And an order of your cheese curds. No idea what those are, so I’m going to try them,” she said.
“And for you?” the waitress asked.
“I’ll have your California burger with everything that comes on it with another order of fries,” I said.
Anna was smiling at me, but I could see something behind her eyes, something that was a bit unsettling. I knew she wanted to help, and I knew she wanted to see me succeed, but she had always been one to sacrifice for others. She’d sacrificed for Mom and Dad to make them happy, and the last thing I wanted her to do was sacrifice for me because she felt that would make me happy. I could already tell she was becoming emotionally invested in my headaches, trying to find a way to displace all the emotion she had welling up within her.
I’d have to help her displace it onto something that would further the life I knew she wanted to lead, even if it did take her away from the only piece of family she now had.
I had to make sure she flew the coop and ended up happy.
Chapter 11
Bryan
I dragged myself up the stairs to my office with my head pounding. I was drinking too much, way too much, and I knew it. I could still taste the stale beer at the back of my throat even though I’d brushed my teeth, showered, and gargled. I was falling into the same trap my brother had fallen into, and suddenly, I had a newfound respect for why he fell the way he did. Mom and Dad had ripped out his heart and stomped on it. They had single-handedly changed the way he viewed this manipulative world. Just like Hailey had lied her way into my heart, Mom and Dad had done something similar to him, so he’d turned to something that wouldn’t hurt him emotionally, something that wouldn’t judge him for the decisions he made in life.
