I stare at him expectantly, and he hesitates. “Speak, dude. What the hell?”
“Damn, all right. So Audrey showed up at Celia’s house this morning, right?”
“Uh, no shit, Sherlock. I was there, remember?”
“Just give me a second. I have a point, I swear.” I nod and shut my mouth. I don’t want to miss a second of this. “So she storms out of the house and walks over to my house. I guess she was waiting for you to leave, because she went back to Celia’s when you drove away. Anyway, she said something to me. Something I never caught on to before.”
Adam gets quiet again, and I exhale a frustrating groan. “Seriously, what?”
“She was muttering under her breath, but I caught most of it. I heard her say ‘Celia loves my brother, and that’s never going to change.’ Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
I lean back onto the barstool and cross my arms. “Are you shitting me? The guy from Celia’s past is Audrey’s brother?”
“Yep.” Adam smiles proudly, seemingly impressed with his investigative skills.
I don’t even know what to make of this realization. I know Audrey and Celia are best friends, and have been since childhood, but I’ve never heard either of them ever mention a brother. It definitely explains Audrey’s reaction today.
“So Audrey expects her to remain stuck in the past for the rest of her life? She’s never allowed to move on? That doesn’t make any sense. Something doesn’t add up.”
Adam shrugs. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”
“Maybe we were wrong from the get-go. Maybe the guy really is off at college, or in the military, or something. Maybe he is coming home after all.”
The thought makes the whiskey in my stomach boil and churn. Was I a fun, temporary distraction?
“I don’t think so,” Adam replies, his hands held up in surrender when I start to argue. “Hear me out, man. Have you ever heard a word, even an inkling of a long distance boyfriend? Between the two of us, with as much time as we spend with her, we’d have heard something. A missed phone call, a letter, a visit home … something.”
“I hope you’re right. God, that sounds so wrong, like I hope the guy’s dead. I don’t mean it that way. Hell, I don’t know what I mean.”
The bartender circles back, and I have the good sense to wave him off this time. I should have turned away the last couple of shots, but better late than never, right? I need to get a clear head and try to make sense of everything Adam just told me.
“So what’s the plan? How are you gonna fix it?” Adam asks.
“A plan? You got a plan to win Sara back, Casanova?”
“I always have a plan,” he says with a smirk, but it fades quickly. His lips turn down and he shakes his head. He knows he messed up, that’s for sure. “I’m gonna win her back. I have to.”
I hit him with a couple of man slaps on the back. “Yeah, you will. Better get some thick knee pads, though.”
He chuckles. “I’m not above groveling. I know I fucked up, but I’m gonna fix it. You want my advice?”
“It can’t hurt,” I say with a shrug.
“Make her miss you. She’ll realize her mistake.” I nod, hoping he’s right. At least it’s a start. “Now let’s go. I’m driving your drunk ass home.”
As we drive through Providence, my vision is blurry, and my thoughts are jumbled. But one thing stands out above all the rest. Adam’s right; I need to make Celia miss me. The bitch of it is, I’m gonna miss the hell out of her, too.
“I’d Hate To Be You When People Find Out What This Song Is About” by Mayday Parade
Present Day
“WAKE UP MAN, he’s gone,” I laugh as I slap Will’s cheek.
My cousin lays passed out cold on my grandparents’ couch, spit dried on his cheek and hair plastered to his greasy forehead. He groans softly and runs a hand over his face.
“Ugh, what the hell are you talking about? Who’s gone?” He flips over and buries his head in the crevice of the couch.
“The puma that shit in your mouth.”
He rolls over to face me. He opens and closes his mouth slowly and a look of disgust washes over his face. “A puma did shit in my mouth.”
“Hurry up and get in the shower, whiskey breath. I can smell you from across the room. Grams will be down to cook breakfast any minute, and I don’t want her getting drunk off your fumes.”
I’m giving him a hard time, but Lord knows I’ve been there. I still like to keep him on his toes. He knows Saturday mornings are for fishing, which is why he sleeps over here on Friday nights. You think he’d learn and lay off the sauce, but his head is as hard as mine.
He nearly falls off the sofa and then trudges up the stairs, waving me off the entire way. Not even five minutes pass before I hear the clanging of pans in the kitchen. I follow the noise and find Granny and Mom cracking eggs and mixing pancake batter.
“Mom, what are you doing here this morning?”
They both greet me with cheek kisses and pinches as soon as I hit the doorway.
“Sarge didn’t have a great night. Granny and I had to tag team it,” Mom says in explanation, and that’s all she has to say.
The evenings are especially hard on Sarge. He seems to get even more confused than usual, and he’s much more agitated. It takes its toll on Granny, and sometimes two pairs of eyes help keep him out of trouble.
“Why didn’t y’all call me? I would have come over and helped.”
My grandmother lovingly slaps my cheek. “We know that, sweet boy, but your mom and I had it covered.”
Our conversation is cut short when Will joins us, and, of course, the kisses and pinches resume. Will winces with every high-pitched squeal, and I have to laugh. Maybe I’ll take it easy on him for the rest of the morning … but what would be the fun in that?
Breakfast commences with no sign of Sarge. When I ask about it, Mom explains he was up until past midnight, so he’ll probably sleep well into the morning. Even so, Mom and Granny are still up with the chickens, and I know they must be exhausted. Looking at them, you’d never know, and it makes me wonder how many times I’ve been left in the dark.
“Cain, why haven’t you invited your sweet little friend over for dinner again? She was such a darling. How has she been?” Granny leans in and smiles hopefully, and I hate to be the one to burst her bubble.
I slowly finish chewing my bite, buying a little extra time. “Um, I’m not sure. We don’t talk anymore.”
She watches me thoughtfully and waits for an explanation. I don’t have one, so I keep quiet. The truth is, it’s been weeks since I’ve spoken to Celia. I’ve kept my distance, just like I said I would. I’ve avoided her at every turn, staying away from Adam’s house, the clinic, or wherever I know she will be. I miss the hell out of her. But I don’t share that with Grams.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I look away and turn my attention to my cousin, hoping to end this line of questioning. “Will, where did you go last night? I don’t see your truck in the driveway—did you have to hitch a ride home?”
Will flings me the stink eye, and I can’t blame him. Oh well, he’ll get over it. The little fucker needs to learn how to take one for the team. I’m merely being a stellar cousin, teaching him the important lessons in life. He’ll thank me one day.
“Actually, I saw Celia last week, and she said to tell you hello, Granny,” Mom chimes in, bringing the topic back to the forefront and making my jaw hit the floor.
I drop my fork on my plate and turn my attention to Mom. “What do you mean you saw her last week? Where?”
What the hell?