To Know Me (The Complete Series, Books 1-4)

by Marcy Blesy

  “Oh, baby, don’t cry.” Someone reaches out and grabs my hand. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. Everything’s going to be fine.” I open my eyes. Ty is sitting on my bed. His head is bandaged, and his left arm is in a sling. I touch his arm gently.

  “You’re hurt,” I say.

  “Only a little banged up, nothing broken.”

  “Am I going to be…?”

  “Yes, you’re going to be fine, just bruised ribs and some abrasions on your arm. Your mom will be here any time. Carmen’s in the waiting room. She let me come in first.” Ty wipes away his own tears. “Mae, I thought…I thought you…I’m so glad you’re okay. He kisses my lips. They feel warm. I’m so confused. None of this should have happened. I was supposed to be rekindling a special relationship. Instead, I’m lying in a hospital room with bruised body parts and a guy who is but a shell of what he once was. How am I supposed to fix us both?

  “Where’s Sarah?” I ask. Surely she didn’t leave with that asshole after he attacked Ty. Ty starts crying again. He keeps trying to blink away the tears, but he’s unsuccessful. I hate seeing him like this. I need him to be strong. I’m not used to being the strong one. “Ty, where’s Sarah?” He shakes his head no. “WHERE’S SARAH?” I try to sit up again, but every nerve in my body screams at me as I scream at Ty. The nurse comes running back into the room.

  “What’s going on in here?” she asks.

  “I…I can’t tell her,” he says.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Honey, your mom will be here shortly. She’ll fill you in on everything. Now you need to get some rest.” Ty is slinking backward out of the room.

  “She’s dead, Mae.” It’s Carmen. She is walking past Ty and sits at my bedside. “I am so sorry.” She holds my hand. I shake my head no because I don’t understand. Nothing makes sense. “There were too many people on the deck, way too many people. And reports are that it probably wasn’t up to code, either. It’s an old building, Mae. Over thirty people fell. Two people didn’t make it. Sarah was one of them.” No, nooooo, NOOOOOOO! My mind feels like a dead end maze, turning corners in a mad attempt to escape this hell, trying to make sense of it all. I feel like I am going to explode. I don’t understand. Sarah was in the apartment. She wasn’t on the deck. Carmen reads my mind.

  “She was coming to see if you were okay after Charlie and Ty got into a fight.” Oh, God. Oh, God, why? I did it again. It was my fault again. I KILLED SARAH. All that time running away to protect her and Mom. What good did it do? I knew it. To know me is to die, again and again and again.

  “Excuse me, miss. I need to give her something to rest. She’s so agitated she’s going to hurt herself worse.” I hear the IV pole moving. I am sleepy, very sleepy. This is the worst nightmare of my entire life.

  Chapter 8:

  “Macy? Macy, can you hear me?” I’m so sleepy. “Macy, honey, open your eyes. It’s Mom.” I struggle to stay awake.

  “Mom?”

  “Hey, sunshine.” She tucks my hair behind my ear and squeezes my hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay, I guess. Sore.” As I blink my eyes to fight the effects of the medication, the world around me comes into focus, and so do my memories. “Sarah.”

  “I know. Horrible tragedy,” says Mom. I shake my head no.

  “Not a tragedy. It’s my fault,” I whisper.

  “No, Macy. Don’t start this again.”

  “It’s true, Mom. Listen. Ty and this guy she was with got into a fight over something Charlie said about me. We went out to the deck to cool off and give them some space, but Carmen said Sarah was worried and came to check on me. I never saw her, Mom. She died trying to find me!”

  “Oh, God, no. Not again.” Mom lowers her head and does the sign of the cross across her chest. She repeats her prayer and looks up at me. “You did not cause this to happen. Think about what Dr. Rivers has told you. Life is about choices, and sometimes the implications of people’s choices, whether good or bad or inconsequential, intersect with each other. Things happen, things out of our control.”

  “Trouble follows me.”

  “Trouble does not follow you. It seems like this now, but, oh, Macy. I am so sorry.” She lets go of my hand and lies down on the bed next to me. She holds me in her arms like I were a young child again, and I cry like a baby, each sob hurting worse than the first.

  There are flowers all over the living room when I get home from the hospital. It’s like a freaking flower shop. I hate it. It reminds me of all the times before. We’d tried to tell people not to send flowers when Dad and Laura died, to send money to our church or to a charity, but do people listen? Hardly! Like sending flowers or some stupid plant is supposed to make anyone feel better? How does that work? All that those superficial things do is remind you that life isn’t normal anymore, that someone has died. Died! And now? Sarah doesn’t even live in my house, but everybody thinks, Poor Macy. Her best friend is dead. Her dad is dead. Her sister is dead. Her grandmother is dead. She must be so sad. I’ll send her something from the flower shop, and everything will be all right. Hell no! Nothing’s all right. It never will be.

  “Thanks, Greg,” says Mom. I hadn’t even seen him sitting on the couch when we came in. Mom goes to him, and they hug. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen affection between them. I hate that, too.

  “I’m going to my room,” I say.

  “Okay. I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”

  I lie on my bed and scroll through my phone. There are over a hundred unread messages. There isn’t one bit of interest on my part to read any of them. I know what they all say anyway. But one name catches my attention: Matt. He’d make everything better, well not really, but his efforts wouldn’t be rebuked. I tap his name.

  Matt: “Hey. I heard about the accident with Sarah. I’m so sorry. Heard u were hurt. Wanted u to know I am thinking of u. Call if u need anything.”

  I need so much, but I can’t call Matt, not now, or ever. He’s lucky he got out of my life when he did. That other shoe didn’t drop on his time. He’s the lucky one.

  Ty’s been texting, too. I don’t want to talk to him. You’d think we’d be bonded by the horrible tragedy, but I can’t forget all of the things he told me the night of the party. He did help me through a really rough time in my life, so to abandon him now when he’s struggling at school or with parents or with alcohol or whatever the hell mess he’s gotten himself into may not be fair. Whoever said relationships were easy? Mom knocks on my door.

  “Come in.” She sits next to me on the bed.

  “I know you’re having a hard time, but you were kind of rude to Greg. He’s been handling things here at the house while we’ve been gone. There have been a lot of calls to field, and, obviously, a few deliveries.”

  “Sorry.” Now he’s staying at our house? “I guess I didn’t expect your boyfriend to move in so soon.” It’s said with way more sass than I should use with my mom, but I can’t help it.

  “He’s not living here. He’s helping out during a tough time. Don’t be a brat. You have to be strong, Macy. Now, what would you like to wear? I’ll set your clothes out.”

  “Wear? Mom, I am not going to Sarah’s funeral,” I say.

  “You most certainly are,” she says.

  “No, I am not. You can’t make me, either.”

  “Macy, you are just like your father, stubborn as an old mule. Well, I’m a lot tougher than I used to be, and this is one argument I will not lose. Think about if the tables had turned and something had happened to you, God forbid. If your best friend in the world didn’t come to your funeral, how do you think that would have made me feel?”

  “MOM, I AM THE REASON SARAH WENT TO U OF M THAT WEEKEND.”

  “Yes, you are, but you did not install weak supports on that deck or forget to replace old screws that held it to the building. You did not cause that accident. You will go to that funeral to support your best friend’s family. Ty will be here in one hour to attend with us.
He called me because you haven’t been answering your texts. Now, I’m going to set out your black skirt. Pick a nice top to go with it, and wear sensible shoes.” She throws open the door of my closet, pushes hangers out of her way, and throws my skirt on the bed. “I’ll be back to check on you in fifteen minutes. You’d better be dressed or your phone and car keys are both being confiscated. I don’t care how old you are.” She slams my bedroom door too hard. Mom never acts this way. I suppose her grief is now manifesting in the anger stage. No sense to wage war. I throw my legs over the side of my bed and walk over to my closet. I choose a red button-down silk shirt to wear with the skirt. It’s easier to put on a button-down shirt when you have sore ribs, and I hate it when people wear morose colors to a funeral. Sarah represented fun and adventure. She’d love that I was wearing red. Mom opens my door more slowly this time after she knocks.

  “You look really pretty, Macy.”

  “Thanks, Mom. And…I’m sorry.”

  “I know. This is a hard day for everyone, but I’m proud of you. Also, Ty’s here. Should I send him in for a few minutes before we load the car?”

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  “Hi, Mae.” Ty gives me a gentle hug, more like a hug from an old friend. The thing is, I don’t mind. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You haven’t been answering my texts,” he says.

  “I know. Don’t take it personally.”

  “Too late.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I say. “Not today.”

  “I get that.” He looks at his feet and shoves his hands in the pocket of his suit jacket. He looks so handsome. If only circumstances were different, if we could turn back time. That magic time travel thing would have solved all of my problems. “Let’s go. Come on.” He grabs my hand and leads me out of my room, on our way, yet again, to a funeral home. I close my eyes and say a prayer. What else is there left to do when you’ve been stripped bare yet again?

  Sarah’s parents have decided to hold her funeral at their Lutheran church rather than the funeral home. I used to attend youth group meetings at the church with Sarah in middle school. We’d get into so much trouble. One time the youth pastor told us to extinguish the candles in the sanctuary. Sarah reached right into the holy water in the baptismal and used her wet fingers to put out the flames. Not only did she burn the tips of her fingers, but she got chewed out by the pastor and was grounded for a week by her parents. Another time at a lock-in, she convinced me to sneak out of the girls’ only room and down the hall into the boys’ only room. She said she just wanted to give John Lamont a good night note and leave, but when we got to him without waking the adult supervisors, we decided to stay. It wasn’t until our third Uno game that we were discovered. Other than school, Sarah and I hadn’t seen each other for a whole month because our parents were so pissed they had been called to pick us up at 3:00 in the morning. I miss her so much.

  There is a line forming outside the church. Mom didn’t tell me we were arriving in time for the viewing first. I can’t do it. I won’t do it. Sarah is not in that body anymore. She won’t even look real. She died in an accident. How do you not look like you died in an accident when you did?

  “Come on,” says Mom.

  “No way. You go ahead. I’ll sit at the back of the church.”

  “Macy.”

  “No. Take away my phone. Take away my car. I’m not going to say goodbye to a body.”

  “Then don’t look, but you need to see Sarah’s parents.”

  “Mom, please.”

  “Come on, Mae. I’ll go with you,” says Ty. He takes my hand again and propels me into the line. I hate them so much. I hate everyone. I just want to be alone. When I’m alone, the only one I can hurt is me.

  The line is so long. There are tons of kids from school. Of course, they’d all be here. There aren’t too many nineteen-year-olds that die. It’s a big deal. And the way that Sarah died has been a huge story, even gathering national attention that spotlights apartment management responsibilities in these kinds of accidents. Lots of families have already filed lawsuits. Two lawyers have called our house trying to talk to me about suing. That’s ridiculous. People are so greedy. They’ll forget all about Sarah once they get their money.

  “Oh, Macy, thank you so much for coming.” It seems like such an odd thing for Sarah’s mom to say, like she’s welcoming me to a pool party. When she holds me, she doesn’t let go until her husband gently removes her fingers from me. I don’t know what to say. Seeing Sarah’s little brother crying is more than I can bare. He stands guard over his sister’s body, like his own life depends upon it. “She loved you so much. You kept her out of so much more trouble than she would have gotten in to,” says Sarah’s mom.

  “I…I…I failed,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.” Sarah’s dad grabs my shoulders and bends his head to look at me directly.

  “It was an accident. We know how much you loved her, too.” I nod my head in agreement and excuse myself from the line. Ty follows me to the back of the church where Mom and Greg join us a few minutes later. I go into my mental cave for the rest of the service, going through the motions. A celebration of life? There is no celebrating in my heart, not when the life was so short, not when the life never would have ended if I hadn’t asked Sarah to travel with me to Ann Arbor. None of this would have happened if I’d chosen not to try and work things out with Ty. No matter what anyone says about intersecting choices and accidents and blah, blah, blah, you can’t deny that reality.

  Chapter 9:

  “When do you have to head back to school?” I ask, as Ty and I sit in the living room after returning from the funeral lunch in the basement of Sarah’s church. It was another tradition I chose to forsake, but Mom had other ideas. Greg moved up a few notches in my approval rating of him when he convinced Mom to let me leave after fifteen minutes. They stayed to help clean up.

  “My professors said I could take a couple of days if I needed them, so I should probably head back tomorrow.” The silence is deafening.

  “What about you? When do you start classes again?”

  “I wanted to take the whole week, but….”

  “Your Mom wouldn’t have it.”

  “Yeah, so I need to get back to classes tomorrow, too.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ty crosses and uncrosses his ankles. “It wasn’t your fault, Mae.”

  “That’s what they say.”

  “I’m going to come back next weekend to see you. We’ll plan something special. Maybe your mom will even let us drive into the city for the night. We’ll get a hotel room, see the city at the top of the Hancock Building, and have a nice dinner.”

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I say.

  “Why not?” He sits up, reaching across the pillows that separate us on the couch, and grabs my hand. I pull it away.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Dammit, Mae. I know this has been hard, but what do I have to do to prove to you how much I want you in my life? I leave you a hundred messages a day. I call. I even wrote you a letter and mailed it. Didn’t you get it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know how much I miss you and want you to be in my life. I told you the night of the accident, too. I can’t change the fact that I was an asshole a few times. People make mistakes. I’m human. You’ve got to cut me some slack, though.” I get up and stand next to the fireplace. I pick up a picture of Mom and Dad. They are in their early thirties. Laura and I were young. They looked happy. Of course, I remember the fighting that was going on in the house in the months preceding Dad moving out, but I always knew they’d reconcile. There weren’t any issues too big for them to overcome. They just never got the chance.

  “I…I look forward to seeing you next weekend,” I say. Though no one in the room believes me, the attempt is welcomed.

  “Great. Me, too. I’ll make all the arrangements.” He walks over toward me, still wearing his suit coat and tie
. I don’t see the handsome guy I once fell hard for. I see a broken man with personal demons. Maybe I owe it to him to try and rescue him. There has to be something good I can do with my life.

  After a hard day of being back in classes, I decide to treat myself to a caramel coffee at the campus coffee shop where Matt introduced me to the sweet flavor. I’d be lying if I didn’t also hope to catch Matt there. I’ve cut my hours at the restaurant way back. It’s a shock, really, that I haven’t just been let go. Matt is sitting at a corner booth with the newspaper spread out in front of him. I order two coffees and take them to his table.

  “Mind if I sit down?” I ask. Matt seems surprised by the sound of my voice. “I got you a coffee.”

  “Black, one spoonful of sugar, slightly stirred?” he asks, grinning.

  “Of course. Don’t trust me?”

  “That’s a trick question, right?” I walked into that response, but all I need right now is a good friend, so I ignore the question.

  “Can I sit down?”

  “Sure.” He moves his paper and takes the coffee. “You look a little upset. How are you doing?” I watch him put the coffee to his lips, the steam swirling around the edges of his mouth.

  “Imagine walking around campus in a giant bubble. Life is going on all around you, but your senses are dulled to everything, and it seems as if the whole world is turned to mute. Nothing seems real.” Matt is staring at me across the cup of his coffee when I look up. Our eyes speak what our words cannot say. He grabs my hand and holds tight.

  “Mae, let’s get out of here. Let’s go rollerblading at the park. What do you say? It’s a beautiful day. Classes are done. Fresh air will do you some good.”