On shaky legs, I shuffled back to the wall, plastering myself against it. Then I covered my eyes with both my hands as I lost my shit. I hadn’t cried that hard since the funeral. For seven years I’d been carrying around the thought that I might have been responsible for my sister’s death, always afraid to broach the subject with anyone.
Hands were tugging at my wrists. “Son, I promise. You didn’t leave the safe unlocked. I told you boys she’d found the combination in my office. You know she went to great lengths to get what she wanted.”
That was true. We all did when we didn’t get what we wanted. I dropped my arms. “I need air.”
My father pulled me in for a tight hug. “Why didn’t you tell me? All these years you kept this bottled up. Is this the reason you act weird around Karen’s anniversary?”
I could only nod as he held me. Every year around the time of her death I became a recluse. I’d either lock myself in my room, disappear into the woods behind our house, or—once I was old enough to drive—head down to Cape Cod and sit on the beach.
“You need to talk about your feelings more,” he said.
I gently pushed away, wiping my eyes. “I’m good.” I was a fucking mess. Sure, I was relieved beyond belief that I hadn’t left the safe unlocked, but my mom could relapse. I couldn’t handle my family being broken again. And to put the cherry on top of my meltdown, I wanted a girl I couldn’t have and one my heart couldn’t handle. “I need to see Mom.”
“Sure, but Kelton? Do me a favor? Try talking about what bothers you.”
I’d rather punch walls or spar with Kross.
“I love you, son.” Then he tapped my heart. “This should be reserved for the right woman,” he said with conviction. “Now, see how your mom is doing. I’ll be there in a minute.”
I left with my head swimming in a sea of mixed emotions from worry over my mom, to relief that I hadn’t left the safe open, to his words of wisdom. Right now the only woman in my heart was my mom. She was everything to this family, and if she relapsed, it would rip all of us to shreds, especially my father. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
Slipping past the kitchen where Kross, Kody, and Lacey were whispering, I wound my way down through the house, not knowing what to say or how to rewind time and change the past—or even the past two days. I should’ve told Kade on Friday night. I should’ve told him yesterday. It wasn’t Lacey’s fault. This was on me. If I hadn’t gone over to Dillon’s, then he wouldn’t have approached Kade.
My parents’ bedroom was tucked away in its own wing. The door was cracked open. I poked my head in. Kade was sitting in one of the oversized chairs while my mom sat in a chaise longue. The seating area of the bedroom faced the French doors. It was pitch black outside, so it was hard to see anything.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Can I come in?”
Mom turned her head, her black hair shining from the soft glow of the floor lamp next to her.
I padded in on the plush tan carpet and settled onto the edge of the chaise longue. Kade rose then kissed Mom on her forehead and left.
She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Do you ever think of Gracie and how she’s doing?” she asked.
I placed my free hand over hers, soft and fragile. “I do.” It was the truth. Of course, Lizzie had dominated my thoughts over the years, but I’d occasionally wondered about Gracie.
“You know it’s supposed to snow again tonight. Maybe the angels will watch out for Gracie.”
“I’m sure they will, Mom.” I hoped they did.
“How is Elizabeth doing?” Sadness was stamped in her pretty blue eyes. “Have you seen her?” A lone tear escaped, trickling down her porcelain face.
I was officially going to hell. A son should never make his mother cry. “Briefly. I guess she’s doing okay.” I wasn’t certain about that. The girl didn’t want to see me or talk to me.
“I would like to see Gracie,” she said. “Is the family in Boston?” She withdrew her hand from mine then snagged a tissue from the box on the side table.
My mind raced. My father had just mentioned Mom never wanted to talk about the Reardons. “I don’t know.” Lizzie was in town. But did that mean her family was too? “Let’s talk with Dad first.” This was a decision for my father to make, although if it helped for Mom to talk with Gracie, I was on board. Although that meant I would have to see Lizzie again, and that alone scared the fuck out of me.
* * *