Until We Fly
Page 42
I get goose bumps as I remember horror movies of the past… when body parts and worse have been sent as messages. Quickly, I set the box down.
Surely Joe didn’t put a body part in the box, but I’m not sure that I want to know what actually is in there.
“I’m curious too,” Brand says from the hallway. I turn to find him standing there, a towel slung around his waist. I’d been studying the box so intently, I hadn’t even heard the shower water turn off.
He takes a few steps into the room, his strong calves flexing with his movement. Each movement he makes is so lithe and controlled. He picks up the box and turns it over in his large hands.
“I want to know, but yet I don’t want to give him that satisfaction,” he finally says, turning to me. “Does that make any sense? I know he’s gone and he’ll never know if I look or not. But I’ll know.”
“So you’re not ever going to look?” I ask quietly, in a tiny bit of disbelief. Because I know I’d never have that kind of willpower. I’d have to know. Even if what was inside killed me or fueled my guilt or hate. But this is just one more way that Brand and I are different. He’s got willpower. I don’t.
Brand shrugs and sets the box aside. “I don’t know. Maybe I will. But see, it’s taken me years to get to the place where I don’t care what he thinks, or what he says. I think it’s something inborn in every person…. you need the approval of your parents. For better or worse, you need to know that you’ve met their expectations, that you are good enough. I know that I never will. And that’s something I’ve had to let go of—and get past. It’s taken me a long time.”
“But anyone would be proud of you,” I begin to argue, but Brand holds up his hand.
“You don’t have to do that. I know all the arguments. Jacey used to argue the same things. When I graduated West Point with honors, they didn’t come. They didn’t send a card. They didn’t acknowledge it at all. I threw a party with Jacey and Gabe. When I made the Rangers, they didn’t say anything, and again, I celebrated with Jacey and Gabe. But at the same time, I didn’t write home and tell them, either. It’s been a two-sided road. I haven’t held up my part, but neither did they.”
I shake my head and interrupt because he can’t stop me. “But they gave you very good reasons to stay away. Your father beat you. Your mother didn’t stop it…”
Brand nods. “Yeah, I know. But life is f**ked up. People get hurt, people are scarred, people are damaged and sometimes, things aren’t meant to be fixed.”
“And you’re afraid if you looked in the box, it might mess up your resolution?”
He nods. “I guess. I just don’t want to have to start back at square one and try to forgive them again.”
I suck in a breath. “Have you forgiven them?”
He stares out the window. “I don’t know. I try. But I guess, mostly, I just continually put it out of my mind so that I don’t have to think about it.”
“That’s denial,” I tell him needlessly.
He smiles grimly. “I know. But it works for me right now. So I’m not going to look in the box…not right now. I don’t need to. There are other things I need to worry about. More important things.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Such as?”
Brand grins. “Lunch. I’m starving.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re always starving.”
“Lunch at the Hill?” he asks, his eyes twinkling. I nod.
“It’s a date,” he tells me and he disappears back down the hall to get dressed.
It’s a date.
A date with Brand Killien.
Gah. Oh how the worm turns in life, from one moment to the next. You never know what’s going to happen.
I pull my hair back into a low ponytail and within twenty minutes, Brand and I are walking into The Hill.
Together.
I’ve got my arm looped through his and Maria looks up from the cash register, her face lighting up like fireworks when she sees Brand.
She rushes to him, kissing his cheeks and muttering Italian endearments. He smiles and hugs her and she shows us to a table by the window.
“You let me know if I can get you anything else,” she tells him before she bustles away. “I’ll get you a special dessert.”
I look at Brand over the top of my menu. “She really likes you.”
“She’s very loyal. She doesn’t forget it when someone has done something for her. All I did was move her daughter’s stuff to college.”
“And come and help her cut brush, and do a bunch of other stuff outside after her husband died,” I add. He glances up at me, surprised. I shrug. “She told me last time. You did a lot for her.”
“And so did Gabe and Maddy, and even Jacey,” Brand says simply. “Maria’s good people. So was Tony.”
We fall silent as we decide what to eat, then hand our menus over after we order.
Brand stares out the window. “I always forget how much I do like this little town,” he muses absently. “I always associate it with ugliness because of my parents, but I had good times here, too. I spent most of every summer down at the Vincents’ place. Gabe and Jacey shared their grandparents with me. They were good people, too. Their gran has always been the mom I never had.”
Something about that statement and the softness in his eyes at the mere mention twinges my heart.
“I’m glad you had that with them,” I tell him honestly. “It sounds like they filled a void in your life.”
And oh my god, how I wished I could have helped do that. I was here every summer too. Only I was four years younger and back then… well, that might as well have been an ocean of time.
Brand nods. “Yeah. Their gran taught me a lot. She was full of good advice. She still is, actually. She’s in a nursing home in Chicago.”
I take a sip of water. “What kind of advice? I’m afraid I grew up without much of that. My father is very focused on business and my mother… well, she’s very focused on trying to put on the appearances that everything is fine in the Greene household. There wasn’t much sage advice floating around.”
Surely Joe didn’t put a body part in the box, but I’m not sure that I want to know what actually is in there.
“I’m curious too,” Brand says from the hallway. I turn to find him standing there, a towel slung around his waist. I’d been studying the box so intently, I hadn’t even heard the shower water turn off.
He takes a few steps into the room, his strong calves flexing with his movement. Each movement he makes is so lithe and controlled. He picks up the box and turns it over in his large hands.
“I want to know, but yet I don’t want to give him that satisfaction,” he finally says, turning to me. “Does that make any sense? I know he’s gone and he’ll never know if I look or not. But I’ll know.”
“So you’re not ever going to look?” I ask quietly, in a tiny bit of disbelief. Because I know I’d never have that kind of willpower. I’d have to know. Even if what was inside killed me or fueled my guilt or hate. But this is just one more way that Brand and I are different. He’s got willpower. I don’t.
Brand shrugs and sets the box aside. “I don’t know. Maybe I will. But see, it’s taken me years to get to the place where I don’t care what he thinks, or what he says. I think it’s something inborn in every person…. you need the approval of your parents. For better or worse, you need to know that you’ve met their expectations, that you are good enough. I know that I never will. And that’s something I’ve had to let go of—and get past. It’s taken me a long time.”
“But anyone would be proud of you,” I begin to argue, but Brand holds up his hand.
“You don’t have to do that. I know all the arguments. Jacey used to argue the same things. When I graduated West Point with honors, they didn’t come. They didn’t send a card. They didn’t acknowledge it at all. I threw a party with Jacey and Gabe. When I made the Rangers, they didn’t say anything, and again, I celebrated with Jacey and Gabe. But at the same time, I didn’t write home and tell them, either. It’s been a two-sided road. I haven’t held up my part, but neither did they.”
I shake my head and interrupt because he can’t stop me. “But they gave you very good reasons to stay away. Your father beat you. Your mother didn’t stop it…”
Brand nods. “Yeah, I know. But life is f**ked up. People get hurt, people are scarred, people are damaged and sometimes, things aren’t meant to be fixed.”
“And you’re afraid if you looked in the box, it might mess up your resolution?”
He nods. “I guess. I just don’t want to have to start back at square one and try to forgive them again.”
I suck in a breath. “Have you forgiven them?”
He stares out the window. “I don’t know. I try. But I guess, mostly, I just continually put it out of my mind so that I don’t have to think about it.”
“That’s denial,” I tell him needlessly.
He smiles grimly. “I know. But it works for me right now. So I’m not going to look in the box…not right now. I don’t need to. There are other things I need to worry about. More important things.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Such as?”
Brand grins. “Lunch. I’m starving.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re always starving.”
“Lunch at the Hill?” he asks, his eyes twinkling. I nod.
“It’s a date,” he tells me and he disappears back down the hall to get dressed.
It’s a date.
A date with Brand Killien.
Gah. Oh how the worm turns in life, from one moment to the next. You never know what’s going to happen.
I pull my hair back into a low ponytail and within twenty minutes, Brand and I are walking into The Hill.
Together.
I’ve got my arm looped through his and Maria looks up from the cash register, her face lighting up like fireworks when she sees Brand.
She rushes to him, kissing his cheeks and muttering Italian endearments. He smiles and hugs her and she shows us to a table by the window.
“You let me know if I can get you anything else,” she tells him before she bustles away. “I’ll get you a special dessert.”
I look at Brand over the top of my menu. “She really likes you.”
“She’s very loyal. She doesn’t forget it when someone has done something for her. All I did was move her daughter’s stuff to college.”
“And come and help her cut brush, and do a bunch of other stuff outside after her husband died,” I add. He glances up at me, surprised. I shrug. “She told me last time. You did a lot for her.”
“And so did Gabe and Maddy, and even Jacey,” Brand says simply. “Maria’s good people. So was Tony.”
We fall silent as we decide what to eat, then hand our menus over after we order.
Brand stares out the window. “I always forget how much I do like this little town,” he muses absently. “I always associate it with ugliness because of my parents, but I had good times here, too. I spent most of every summer down at the Vincents’ place. Gabe and Jacey shared their grandparents with me. They were good people, too. Their gran has always been the mom I never had.”
Something about that statement and the softness in his eyes at the mere mention twinges my heart.
“I’m glad you had that with them,” I tell him honestly. “It sounds like they filled a void in your life.”
And oh my god, how I wished I could have helped do that. I was here every summer too. Only I was four years younger and back then… well, that might as well have been an ocean of time.
Brand nods. “Yeah. Their gran taught me a lot. She was full of good advice. She still is, actually. She’s in a nursing home in Chicago.”
I take a sip of water. “What kind of advice? I’m afraid I grew up without much of that. My father is very focused on business and my mother… well, she’s very focused on trying to put on the appearances that everything is fine in the Greene household. There wasn’t much sage advice floating around.”
