“Listen, I understand following orders,” he continued. “But, at some point, you need to forget about doing what you’re told is right and do what’s right for you. From where I’m standing, you’re turning a blind eye to what your brother’s doing so you don’t have to face your problem. That’s what you did with Melanie…”
“What?” I hissed, my green eyes growing wide in shock. Eli had never been one to question following orders. In fact, he had always adhered to a strict code of ethics, but our history predated him working for the security company. I supposed his loyalty to me outweighed that to his job. “I didn’t–”
“Yes, you did! You just admitted it! After she died, you ran. You went into the navy so you didn’t have to deal with your grief! I get it, Tyler. Believe me. After my father died in the line of duty, I was so fucking angry. I hated that he lost his life to save some sorority girl.”
I nodded, remembering that case. It was splashed all over the news. I was a junior in college, and Eli was starting his third year with the Marines when the case that rocked our city for years finally came to a bloody end. Eli’s dad was a homicide detective and brought the man responsible for brutally assaulting and murdering over a dozen college females to justice. Sadly, Eli’s father sacrificed his life to save that of the man’s last victim. Eli had to sit in court nearly every day as he stared at the girl who survived, wondering whether her life was more valuable than his father’s.
“I couldn’t bear being around town because, everywhere I went, I was faced with a reminder of what he gave his life for. I ran back to the Marines, even after they offered to give me an honorable discharge to be with my family. You’re doing the same thing, Ty! You’ve never allowed your scars to heal. At some point, it will all become too much and you’ll bury yourself in your guilt. That’s why you’re happy to stay here and help all these people, but not because you genuinely want to. You’re trying to bury your guilt in all the good you’ve been doing, but you can’t hide it forever. You can’t run away from your mistakes for the rest of your life. You need closure.”
“Maybe closure’s not in the cards for me,” I said softly. “She told me to let her go.” I spun away from him. I hadn’t had a moment’s peace in months. I hadn’t been alone in months. And, right now, I wanted to be alone.
“But you haven’t let her go, Tyler!” he exclaimed, catching up to me. Grabbing my arm, he forced me to stop. “You left to give her space. Three months is a long time to give someone space. Just…” He took a deep breath. “Just think about it and stop punishing yourself. This Tyler…” He gestured to me. “This is not the Tyler I remember. The old Tyler would have fought tooth-and-nail for what he believed in. He wouldn’t stand by and allow his brother to order him to stay thousands of miles away, instead of going after the one girl who finally taught you how to be human again.”
I sighed. “Carrying my guilt is the only thing that reminds me I’m human,” I admitted. “Without it, I’m empty. I’m nothing. I need the guilt. It’s the only way I can live with the lonely.”
Mackenzie
MY BRAIN WAS SPINNING as I flipped through page after page of a pregnancy book, the words starting to blur together. Since learning I was pregnant nearly two months ago, I got my hands on every book possible, hoping that, with a little bit of guidance, I would be able to get through this on my own. It didn’t help. I felt even more lost and confused about how to raise a little human.
I had put on a smile to assure Brayden and Jenna I was handling it, but the truth was, I was scared out of my mind. Cloth or disposable diapers? Bottle feed or breast feed? I was overwhelmed by the amount of books and advice, most of it contradictory. I felt like a fish swimming upstream, everyone else passing by, telling me what was best.
The stack of overdue bills had gradually grown higher and higher as I struggled to rub two pennies together. Every dime went to paying for the bare minimum of doctor appointments I could get away with. I was two months behind on my mortgage, my credit cards were maxed out, and my checking account balance was teetering on being overdrawn on a weekly basis. Jenna and Brayden had offered to help me out countless times, but I refused. I took after my father in that respect. I inherited his Irish stubbornness.
A loud knock on the door sounded, startling me, and I tore my attention away from one of the dozens of pregnancy books Brayden had picked up for me. Raising myself from my lush sofa, I walked through the living area and into the foyer of my ocean-front condo. I checked the peephole to see a man dressed in a messenger uniform standing there. I pulled back the door, praying it wasn’t the bank sending notice of foreclosure on my condo. Surely, I’d have to have missed more than two payments, right?
“Mackenzie Delano?” the stout man asked, eyeing the envelope in his hand.
“Yes. That’s me.”
“Sign here, please.” He handed me his scanner and I scribbled on the screen.
“Have a good day, ma’am.” He gave me the envelope and I retreated into my condo, plopping down at my kitchen table. I nearly threw the envelope on top of the large pile of unopened bills, but stopped myself.
Intrigued as to the contents, I tore at the tab, letting out a long breath when I saw it wasn’t from the bank…or a bill.
As I read the typed letter accompanying a church bulletin, guilt overwhelmed me for having ignored the only family I had left during the past several months.
Dearest Mackenzie,
I hope this letter finds you well. Many days have passed without your attendance at any of our services, including those which have been said to honor your mother. Even though years have gone since her passing, I understand the wound may never heal. But don’t carry the burden alone. Allow others to help shoulder it. We have set a celebration of your mother’s life at Monday evening mass this coming week. I do hope you will choose to honor her memory, as she so rightly deserves.
Peace be with you, child.
Father Baldwin
Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known. Jeremiah 33:3
I placed the letter on the table and opened the church program, noting a mass to be said in my mother’s memory on the day specified in my father’s letter. I had purposefully not shown up at each of our pre-arranged meetings over the past few months. I was angry at my father for getting himself into whatever mess he was in. I was angry at my mother for knowing what happened and keeping it from me. I was angry at Tyler for using me to get to my father. But I was mostly angry at myself, if for no other reason than I knew my anger toward other people wouldn’t make me feel better.
As my eyes remained glued to the postscript of the letter, I felt something I hadn’t in months. Hope. It could have meant nothing, but a small part of me believed my long-term absence from the church made my father reconsider shielding me from the truth of what was going on. I prayed he would come clean with all the secrets so we could go back to having a normal father-daughter relationship…or as normal a relationship as we could.
Folding the letter and bulletin, I hid them in one of my kitchen drawers and spied the time. I groaned, not really feeling like going to our traditional Friday evening girls’ night, but I couldn’t break from my routine. The last time I strayed from the normalcy of my life, I ended up heartbroken. I needed to find comfort in my routine once more, regardless of how tempting curling up in my bed sounded at the moment.