“Why?” she pleads, with the childlike innocence that is forever surprising me about her. “Why is it too late?”
I sigh, and turn back to find the liquid blue eyes wide and beseeching me. Softening, I say, “Look, I kind of thought I was gonna see you a few weeks ago, up in Santa Cruz, for the anniversary. Thought we were gonna do this scene then.”
“Is that what you really needed?” she asks, earnest in her question. “For me to be there?”
I shake my head. “Nah, not really.”
“And would it have made a difference if I’d come?” she asks, stepping toward me, hands opening. “Would you have forgiven me then, Michael?”
“Like I said, Laurel. It’s pretty late for that.”
Her gaze lifts, and this time there’s a fragility there that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before. At least not but one other time—the day we put Alex in the ground.
“Michael, I honestly didn’t think you needed me there, not that day.”
“No, Laurel, you’re wrong about that.” My voice is surprisingly quiet, but I don’t feel quiet inside. “See, I did need you. But that was a year ago, not now.”
She reaches for me. “Michael, I made a terrible mistake,” she says in a rush. “I want to try to heal that.”
But I jerk my arm away. “We can’t bring Alex back,” I blurt, staring hard into her eyes. “And we sure as hell can’t undo your mistake, Laurel. It’s as much a part of this scene as Al’s death is.”
“Michael,” she answers carefully, “you may not believe this, but I love you. That never changed. You’re the only brother I have left now.”
“No, Laurel, see, I’m not your brother!” I cry, unable to stop the flow of my rage. “I ain’t your brother and I ain’t your friend, and I sure as hell ain’t your lover.”
“Okay,” she answers numbly. “Okay, Michael, I understand that you’re angry.”
“Hell yeah, I’m angry,” I answer with forced quiet, knowing Andie’s right down the hall. “You tried to take my daughter away from me. We lost Alex and that’s what you did to his memory.”
She nods, pursing her lips like she’s fighting hard not to cry. “You have no idea how many regrets I have. Don’t you see it’s why I’ve come?” Her voice is defeated and small; she twists a finger through the ends of her hair, and whispers, “Alex is dead, but you’re still here, Michael. At least I can make that peace with you.”
“Thank God he never knew,” I say, lowering my voice when I hear a slight noise from Andie’s room. “Never knew how you tried to tear his family apart like that.” Her wide eyes well with tears, but she says nothing. “Yeah, so see the way I figure it, Laurel, I’m definitely not your brother.” I press past her, toward the door, but then I turn back. “I’m nothing but the guy who’s stuck with you from now on.”
***
“Hello?” At the first sound of Rebecca’s voice on the phone, I swear I’m going to lose it completely. A vise closes around my throat and I can’t speak, my whole body trembling.
“Michael? Is that you?” she asks, and that familiar accent’s a salve on my open wounds.
Kicking the door of the surfboard room shut, I clear my throat. “Hey, Becca,” I reply in a quiet voice.
I close my eyes and half-whisper, “Laurel’s here.”
“How’s it going? I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Blowing out a breath, I lean my forehead against Allie’s long board and wish that Rebecca knew it all, the whole sad, broken story of Laurel Richardson and me. “Pretty much sucks so far.” Sparking pain erupts behind my eyelids, and I massage my neck, determined not to get another migraine.
“What’s happened?”
“Rebecca, can you come over? Tonight?”
“If you want me to, sure. Of course,” she answers. “But do you think that’s a great idea? Shouldn’t you have family time first?”
I want to tell her she is like family, but it’s way too early for words like that.
“I can’t do this alone,” I answer, resolved. “I can’t do this shit alone anymore, period. I miss you and I want to see you tonight, and screw Laurel if she’s got a problem with that.”
“Okay, Michael,” she soothes, voice gentle as a feminine caress. “Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“And Rebecca? There’s something you should know.” I’m thinking of all the things she needs to know, all the secrets hardwired into this family.
“Okay, tell me.”
So much she should know, so much that might change things between us all, but I settle on the most pressing matter in my mind: what I’m feeling, hidden away in this clandestine room, safe for the moment with my girlfriend. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” I confess, bracing myself for her to rebuff or laugh at me, for her to tell me it’s far too soon for an admission like that.