A knot formed in the back of my throat as the relief washed ashore. I held it back. I didn't want Barbie to see this. But more importantly, I didn't want Bobby to. And luckily for me, as the waves of relief washed up, a tsunami of anger came next.
He left. He left us all without saying anything. The first year he would send the occasional postcard to his parents from wherever he found himself. They relayed what information they could to us. He even called Rory a couple of times, but the calls were brief. We thought it was a phase and he’d come back home after his wanderlust wore. But then he was drafted, and after their parents died while he was deployed, it was like he turned into dust. Not a letter. Not a call. He didn’t contact us to ask about the funeral or what would happen to the Lightly estate. Even a selfish, greedy jerk would want to know about the money.
Seven years since Bobby first walked away. Seven years since I had last seen him. Six since we last gotten word of any correspondence from him.
I was left behind with his brother, who was broken from the abandonment. Rory was left alone to deal with the deaths of their parents. And now, Bobby thought he could just show up at our doorstep, as if he had just been out of town for a couple of weeks.
My nostrils flared as I swallowed back the lump.
“You were, Bobby,” I replied defiantly.
“Why don't you two head to the kitchen and I'll clean this up,” Barbie volunteered awkwardly.
I hadn't thought to invite Bobby in, but in the haze of shock, I conceded. He followed behind.
“This is a nice house. You two have done well.”
“I suppose,” I replied, pretending to need something from the sink, so that I wouldn't have to face him. I heard him pull a chair from the table and sit. That was always Bobby, making himself at home wherever he wanted.
“You look good, Lil. Really good.”
So did he. So much so that it annoyed me.
I turned. “I uh, I need to call Rory. Tell him you're back.”
“Yeah . . . yeah.” Bobby nodded, his soft tone an attempt to assuage my anxiety.
I grabbed the receiver off the wall and pulled the long cord to its capacity down the hall to be out of earshot.
“Generate, Inc. Mr. Lightly's office.”
“Hi, Jane, it's Lilly. Could you connect me to Rory? It's an emergency.”
“Oh dear, he's not in his office, let me see if I can—oh wait, he's coming down the hall, I'll connect you.”
A few seconds later, the phone clicked as Rory picked up. “Hon? Is everything okay?”
“Everything's okay. I'm fine. I don't know how else to tell you, but . . . Bobby's here.”
“What?”
“Bobby is here in the house. In the flesh. Sitting in the kitchen. He just showed up.” I looked around and guarded the mouthpiece of the receiver as if this information would be a revelation to Bobby had he overheard it. “He’s...alive.”
“Bobby?” Rory went silent for a moment. “Are you okay? Have you been taking too many of those damned pills?” he hissed.
“What? No! I swear. You need to come home and handle this.”
“I—” he sighed audibly over the phone. “But he's dead. I thought . . .” his voice trailed off as he processed the news. If Bobby wasn’t dead, then Rory had to accept his brother had willingly vanished.
“We all did.”
Why else would Bobby not call? We were all so close. I had known the Lightly boys since I was a little girl. We spent many summers at their cabin on the lake. Bobby and Rory had their differences like any brothers, but they were a close-knit family. When Bobby shipped out to Korea and we never heard from him, Rory was certain the only reason for Bobby’s silence was that he was gone for good.
And if by some chance Bobby was alive out there in the world, but had cut us off...well, then he was dead to me anyway.
“This better not be some awful prank, Lilly.”
“I would never, Rory. Don't you dare,” I scolded.
“I'm coming home. Right away. Just don't let him leave.”
Rory hung up the phone but I held it to my ear, unready to go back into that kitchen. What would I say to him after all these years? Bobby always did what he wanted, and somehow always convinced people to forgive him. Bobby, with the smile that made you always smile back, the charm that could disarm even the most frigid of hearts. But Bobby had walked into a minefield in this house. We were already teetering on the edge, barely holding things together. We couldn't support something as shocking as his return. On the surface it seemed like great news, but I knew Bobby brought more baggage than the rucksack that sat on the floor beside him.
The dial tone buzzed sharply as I pressed the receiver against my chest, hoping it would moor me to this spot. But I knew if I was out here too long, Bobby would find me or Barbie would find him. I didn't want them speaking.
I dragged myself into the kitchen, pulled out a chair and sat across from him. Not an ounce of shame was in his eyes and that angered me more.
“Well, I think I got everything,” Barbie said, wiping her hands on a rag upon entering the kitchen. She stood at the entrance for a beat longer. I knew she wanted at least a nugget for her efforts.
“Barbie, this is my brother-in-law, Bobby.”
“Oh,” she said knowingly. She knew Rory's only brother was dead.
“Bobby, this is Barbie, my friend. She lives down the street.”
Bobby came to his feet and offered his hand. As Barbie took it, I watched intently as her interest was piqued. Barbie would have been the type of girl in high school who would have fallen head over heels for Bobby within the first few minutes of meeting him. Well, most girls were. But Barbie was exactly the pert, popular cheerleader type who would have wanted a boy like Bobby. A boy who could have any girl he wanted, but gave her the honor of choosing her. Bobby was never the flashy, ladies-man type. He wasn't even cocky. He didn't have to be. He was just himself, outgoing but prone to fits of mysterious quiet. This made people want to dig in more and seek his approval. People wanted to be in the secret club of Bobby Lightly's inner circle. But I knew there was no such thing. No one, not even his brother, could gain access to that club. And despite that dark quiet, there was a light that shone from him. When Bobby was on, his fire would steal all the oxygen in the room. People wanted to bask in that light, hoping that maybe they would shine like he did.
That's what drove me crazy about Bobby. It was because of that light that people always gave him a pass. I was never that person, and I wouldn't be that person this time.
“Well, I guess I should go!” Sassy, tangy Barbie was suddenly reduced to a fidgety school girl. “Let you two catch up.” I knew she was praying I would ask her to stay.
“I'll call you tomorrow,” I said, much to her dismay.
Her shoulders sank with disappointment. “Well, nice meeting you,” she said coyly. “So glad you're alive!” There it was. Just like that, he turned her into pudding.
As soon as Barbie slipped out the door, a heavy silence was cast upon the room. There was so much I wanted him to say, but at the same time I wanted to hear none of it. There were no excuses good enough. No words that could placate my rage.
“Lil, I know I hurt—”
“You have some nerve, you know that? The way you left. You hurt people. You hurt Rory.”
“Just Rory?” he asked, cutting to the truth without even saying the words.
“You don't get to abandon people and then come back at your leisure. You don't let people mourn you, and then just come back like Lazarus! You only think about yourself, Bobby. That's how it's always been. And I don't care how long you've been gone or where you've been, that will never change. If you really cared, you would have stayed away.”
“You honestly believe that?” he asked skeptically.