“There ya go!” She yelled back at me. “Double-dog twin dare accomplished,” she leaned back and everyone started yelling on the shore.
“Hey, be careful!” I cried in alarm.
I could only see her dark outline as she lost her grip. Her screams penetrated the air and then nothing after the splash.
“Heather!” I shrieked, running down to the bank. “Heather, oh shit! Someone has to save her. I’m going in. Heather!” I screamed so loud my throat burned.
I don’t remember who held me back. I just remember the strong arms circling my waist. “You’ll get swept away by the current, you can’t jump in.”
I remember I fought with all of my strength to be freed.
They didn’t find her body until the next day.
Tears stream down my face, soaking my shirt. “I’m sorry, Heather,” I whisper to the water. “I’m so sorry.”
“I thought I would find you here.”
My heart leaps in my chest as I whirl around on my heel. “Mom?”
“Yeah, I figured you might come down here. I come here when I get upset too.” She looks past me at the water that stole her child’s life and guilt consumes me.
Neither of us move. We’re statues under the starry sky. The only noise in the air is the water flowing below.
Mom wipes the back of her hand over her face and I realize she’s been crying too. “Listen, Holly, about tonight,” she begins but I can’t bring myself to hear her say it. I hold up my hands, willing her to stop before she can tell me what I already know.
“I know, you hate me,” I interrupt.
“What?”
“It’s obvious. I don’t blame you. I know you never forgave me for Heather’s death. I dared her to cross the bridge that night. It’s my fault she died. I understand why you can’t forgive that.” The words tumble from my mouth, spilling like blood from a cut artery.
“You think I hate you? That I blame you?” She shakes her head slowly like she’s translating the words from a different language.
“Please, let’s not do this. Like you said, it was a mistake for me to come here. Let’s just go back to the house and I’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning,” I promise her.
“Woah, stop right there, young lady,” her sharp tone makes my muscles freeze as my feet root to the spot. “You think that all this time I’ve been angry with you about some stupid dare you and your sister made? That I thought you were to blame for a dumb accident?”
I blink like I’m trying to communicate in Morse code. Of course that’s what I thought. It’s what I still think.
“You listen to me,” Mom grabs my shoulders and shakes me, “I never hated you. I never blamed you for anything to do with Heather’s death. Never,” she emphasizes the word. “You broke my heart, Holly.” She lets go of my arms and looks down at the ground, “You shattered it. Not because of your sister, because of you. I was already grieving for her when you took off. You didn’t call. I didn’t know where you were. For five years, I had no idea if you were even alive. Five years,” her voice cracks and fat tears fall to her cheeks. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?”
I don’t. I stare down at my feet, trying for the first time to put myself in my mother’s place. I was always so wrapped up in my own guilt and self-loathing that it never occurred to me that she still loved me. “No.” I finally whisper.
“I felt like I didn’t just lose one daughter that night, but both of my little girls. I felt like you died right along with her. You disappeared for five years, then you showed up on our doorstep like nothing happened. I barely had time to adjust to the idea that you were still alive and you were off to Canada for rehab. Then, we go all the way up there to find out that you were taking off again. That you weren’t coming back into my life. It didn’t even seem like it was something you wanted. Just ‘poof’ gone again.”
My heart hurts as I realize the pain I’ve caused my mother. I was so wrapped up in my own suffering to see what I had put her through. All this time, I was convinced that she hated me… so much wasted time that I can never get back.
I cover my face with my hands and struggle to breathe as I sob. My shoulders shake and my nose runs all over the place as the tears burst out from the dam I’ve built up inside. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m sorry.” I repeat over and over.
My mother steps toward me and wraps her arms around me as I bawl against her shoulder like I did when I was a little girl with scraped knees and a banged up Barbie bike. “Shhh, it’s ok, baby. It’s ok,” her voice chokes up as she rocks me back and forth. “I love you so much, Holly. I love you, hun.” She soothes me.
“I love you too, Mom.”
36|Jake
I glance around the nearly empty pub, then back to my brother’s face. “This isn’t much of a bachelor party, Cameron. You sure you don’t want us to take you out to Miami Beach or something?” This place is dead. Of course, it doesn’t help that it’s only nine at night. Before rehab, nine was when I’d go grab a shower to start getting ready to go out. Most of the time, I didn’t even hit the clubs until after eleven, usually finding my way home, with at least one random girl on my arm as the sun came up.
“Nah, the guys on the team took me out for a wild night last week. Bottle service, models hanging at our table, the whole nine. I just wasn’t feeling it, you know? It’s just not who I am anymore, I guess I’ve settled down in my old age,” Cameron smiles and takes a long sip of his beer.
I get that. Thinking back to how I used to live feels like watching a movie of someone else’s life now. A train wreck of a movie at that. Partying all the time used to be my escape. My attempt to add a little color to the gray swamp I was sinking into. The thing is, you can dress up your ugly truth however you want, but it doesn’t change it. You can put a turd on the most delicious, home-baked bread and throw a million pictures of it up on Instagram with the best filters, but it’s still a shit sandwich.
Holly and rehab helped me see that I needed to change what was going on inside to really enjoy anything life had to offer. I know I’ve still got work to do, but now that I’ve had a taste of what a fulfilling life can feel like, I won’t be going back to turds on rye anytime soon.
“Doesn’t mean you’re old, and you sure as shit ain’t settled. Just means you’re in love,” Mack nods at Cameron. The two of them have been best friends since they served together in Afghanistan. My brother was a ground pounder over there and Mack was his officer. Years before that, they both graduated high school the same year, and now that they’re both retired from the service, their friendship has gone full circle.
“Couldn’t agree with you more, brother,” Cameron smiles at his old friend. “I don’t want to go out to some club and get my dick grinded by a random chick. Not when I have perfection waiting for me at the altar tomorrow,” he takes another drink. “Besides, why would I want to go out on the town like some kind of frat boy when I’ve got my real brothers here? This is better than some wild night I’d probably regret.”
I take a gulp of my Pepsi. Not rum and Pepsi. Not rye and Pepsi. Just regular soda and ice. It still feels weird to be at a bar without drinking. I’ll take ‘weird’ over the twisting knife of guilt slicing through my guts any day. I promised Holly I would stay sober, but more importantly, I promised myself.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow,” I shake my head. “It’s even crazier that you’re going to be a dad soon,” I smile. “When is Chelsea due again?”
“Beginning of August. If it all works out right, we’ll be married before summer camp starts for me and the baby should be here before the season starts in the fall.”
“Sounds like it was all meant to be. You’re having an amazing year, Cameron. I’m proud of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your draft,” I look down at the sturdy wooden table we’re all leaning on.
“Don’t be. I’m proud of you too, man. You got your shit sorted out, dealt with it head on. Besides, you�
��re still my best man, right? That’s the main thing.”
“True,” I sit up straighter, feeling less like a loser with my unmixed drink.
“Yeah, just throwing it out there, but I got robbed, by the way,” Mack smirks at me.
“What?”
“I mean, I made him my best man at my wedding,” he jerks his thumb at my big brother, “but then when it’s his turn to get married he chooses you.” He jokes.
“Well, we are related and all that,” I shrug.
“Nepotism,” Mack laughs. “It’s supposed to be the best man for the job, not the best sibling,” he takes a drink of his beer.
“He did,” I shoot back, “can’t help it if I’m so good I win both titles.”
Mack laughs good naturedly and claps his hand on my shoulder, “You’re right, he did. I’m just fucking around.”
“Well, it means a lot to me that you’re both going to be there. The world, actually.” Cameron leans in and looks at us earnestly.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, man.” I answer. Mack nods in agreement.
Cameron clears his throat loudly and slides his chair back. “Ok, enough of that,” he let’s out a dry laugh. “I’ll go get us another round,” he throws his broad shoulders back and strolls over to the bar.
Mack and I sit in silence for a moment, then he tilts his head and looks at me, “So how are things now that you’re back? You’ve been pretty quiet about returning to your unit.”
I take a sharp breath, not prepared to let go of the secret that I’ve been holding onto. That I’m leaving the SEALs. It’s not that I’m ashamed of my decision or anything, it’s just that this is my brother’s night and I didn’t want to make it all about me.
“Uh, I’m not sure.” I do a terrible job at avoiding the question.
“You’re not sure?” He presses me.
“Well, I guess I am sure. I just, well I haven’t told my family yet, but I’m not re-enlisting. My contract runs out in a couple of months and that’s it for me,” I admit. My body feels lighter after letting go of the burden of truth.
“Why’s that?” Mack is no idiot, he knows he’s making me uncomfortable. So, why is he pushing this so hard?
“It’s just not for me, things have changed.” I fling a flimsy excuse back at him.
“What changed?”
My eyes snap up at him, silently demanding that he let this go, but he doesn’t back down.
“I’ve just got other things I want to do now. Besides, now that Holly and I are together, I don’t want to be deploying all the time, you know?” I give him half the truth. “Why, what’s with all the questions?” I flip the tables, seeing how he likes being put on the spot.
“All right! Got two beers and a soda.” Cameron interrupts, plopping the drinks down on the table.
“Thanks, man,” I look up at my brother, happy for the distraction to Mr. Twenty-questions over there.
“Yeah, no problem. I’m just gonna take a piss, I’ll be back,” he peels off again leaving me in an awkward silence with Mack.
“Look man, it’s none of my business or anything,” Mack begins.
“Yep.” My tone is sharp.
“Right, but I can’t help but notice you’ve got that stare, Jake.” He continues.
“What stare?” I look up at him, letting some of my irritation slide away into curiosity.
“That million-mile stare, man. The one you get when you’ve seen shit you can’t unsee. Now, I don’t know if that’s the case. I don’t know if that’s part of the reason you’re getting out,” he raises his hands like I’m pointing a gun at him. “I’m just saying it looks like you’ve got it. I would know. I’ve been there,” he confesses.
I remember his struggle well. He came back from the war a national hero, and it didn’t take long for the media coverage on him to change when he had a huge PTSD flashback and tried to drag someone out of their car. The backlash was swift, until Cooper Sanders, the famous news anchor interviewed him and Mack admitted he needed help.
“I know you do,” I nod. “I, uh, well…” My gaze blurs and I rub my hands over my face, anxious to make this, to make all of this, this conversation, this pain, these memories that haunt me, this endless feeling of guilt, all of it, go away. “Yeah, I’m dealing with that shit too,” I finally let the truth spill free.
Mack just nods, pulls his wallet out and plucks a card from within. “Here,” he hands it over to me, “A few years ago, I was in your shoes. I wish someone would’ve let me know about Wounded Warriors before it all broke me, man. I went to them for help, and now I work for them. My life’s never been better. Think about it, ok?”
I turn the card over in my hands. It feels like I just won a fucking golden ticket. Maybe this is my way out. My chance to finally break through the surface of the sea of horrors I’m drowning in and pull that first breath of fresh air into my burning lungs.
“Thanks, Mack,” I run my thumb over the card. Maybe the ticket to my freedom.
“No problem. Take it from me, don’t wait until you make the wrong kind of headlines before you do something about it. You and your girl deserve better than that.” He looks me straight in the eyes.
“You’re right, man.” I put the card in my own wallet, and feel something that I can’t remember feeling in years.
Hope.
“Hey! Why so serious? This is a celebration, not a funeral!” Cameron squeaks his chair across the hardwood and plunks back down on it.
“Hey man, if it’s alright with you, how about we make this our last drink?” Mack looks over at Cameron. “Maybe I am getting old after all, but I’d like to have an early night so I don’t look like a bag of shit at your wedding tomorrow.”
“Well, you do want to look pretty for all the pictures, right?” Cameron teases him.
“Exactly. Gotta get that beauty sleep,” he laughs.
“How about you? You wanna hit the road?” My brother looks across the table at me.
“Huh?” I pull myself from my distracted thoughts about what Mack told me. About new beginnings. About hope.
“Yeah, let’s call it.” I agree. “Chelsea will have our necks if you ruin her wedding pictures looking like a tired old man,” I chuck shit at my brother.
“True,” Cameron takes a long swig of his beer. “Very true. Ok, let’s roll boys,” he laughs. “Nah, I’m just kidding, you can finish your drinks first,” Mack and I smile.
As Cameron and Mack finish up their beer, I have a hard time pretending to listen to their conversation. I can’t help but let my thoughts drift to an unfamiliar place. To the future. My future. Instead of all of the dread and uncertainty those thoughts are usually weighed down by, for once, I let myself dream of the possibilities.
For once, I have hope.
37|Jake
“You wanna explain to me how you got kicked out of your own house the night before your wedding?” Mack busts Cameron’s chops as I pull the car up to the curb at the front of the hotel.
“I didn’t get kicked out. She just didn’t want us seeing each other until tomorrow. I guess it’s bad luck or some crazy superstition.”
“Poor guy,” I mock him. “She’s got you slumming it here at the Ritz with us while she has your new place to herself.”
“Yeah, she’s got her Mom with her,” Cameron shrugs. “All I know is, you don’t argue with a pregnant lady and you don’t argue with your fiancée right before the wedding. If your fiancée happens to be a pregnant woman, you suck it up and make her happy. If it’s important to her, it’s important to me,” he gets out of the car. Mack frees himself from the backseat and slams the car door shut as I make my way from the driver’s seat. I toss the keys to the valet waiting behind a little podium by the front door, “Hey, Cameron! Tell the guy your room number,” I jerk my head in the direction of the hotel staff.
“Right, uh,” Cameron pulls out his hotel card and reads off the information, “it’s for room eleven-eighty-three.” The valet nods and scurri
es over to the car as the three of us enter the massive glass doors to the lobby.
“Cameron? Jake? Uh, do you guys have a minute?”
“Dad?” We both answer, looking at each other with unasked questions in our eyes.
Why is he waiting for us in the hotel lobby, pouncing out of the shadows the minute we get back? What’s going on?
“I should get back to my room,” Mack excuses himself from our unexpected family reunion. “Lauren’s probably at the end of her rope with the kids,” he explains.
“Ok man, I’ve got wake up calls set for all of the rooms. I’ll see you in the morning,” my brother calls out to him as Mack crosses the lobby and strolls past the elevators, opting to take the stairs instead.
My attention turns back to my father. It would seem he’s finally come out of hiding. I didn’t expect to see him until the ceremony tomorrow. Mom came out to dinner with us earlier tonight along with Mack and his family, but she made a lame excuse about why our father couldn’t join us.
“So, your headache is all gone then?” I give him a sharp look.
“What?”
“That’s what I thought,” I mutter.
“Never mind that,” Cameron flickers his eyes from my face to Dad’s. “What’s going on? Is everything ok?” His voice is full of concern.
“Yes, everything is good. Don’t worry. I, uh, well,” Dad rubs his hand over the back of his neck and looks down at his feet. “I was hoping I could talk to you boys, if that’s ok. I mean, if you’re not too busy.” He mumbles.
Cameron and I exchange another look. What the hell is this about? I decide to let the chip fall from my shoulder and agree to find out.
“Sure,” I answer.
“Yeah Dad, do you guys want to come up to my room and talk?”
“Yeah,” Dad answers, “I’d like that.”
We make our way to the elevator in silence. The ding of the metal doors sliding open for us is absurdly loud in the noiseless vacuum we’ve created. Cameron pushes the buttons and we wordlessly travel up to the eleventh floor.
TinderElla: Page 58
