Rivers

The gravel grinds under my tires as I drive down the street. My headlights flood the front of my SUV and lamps inside houses make the windows glow in the dark of the run-down neighborhood. I turn onto a dirt driveway carved through the front yard, my tires kicking up dirt when I brake and shift into park.

I’m only here for one reason—to end an agreement I should have never made. I’d love a cure for the side effects of healing the sickness that has diseased my heart ever since that fateful night five years earlier.

When I cut the engine, the screen door opens, the hiss of the squeaky hinges alerting me to look up. I get out. Naomi leans against the chipped railing of the front porch. I can’t make out her face in the dim light, but I hear her say, “Good to see you, stranger.”

“Yeah, good . . .” It’s not, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth in protest for even attempting the lie.

I shove my keys and hands into my pockets and walk to the house, stepping around a pile of rocks and a few dead plants in their pots. There’s an old Toyota truck up on blocks on the side of the house and a rusty kids bike on the porch.

The lights are brighter as I near the door, causing me to squint when I first see her again. Naomi opens her arms and hugs me tight. “Wow. Rivers Crow right here at my house. I’ve missed you.”

She feels as wrong as those words feel foreign when it comes to her. Her Southern accent is stronger than I remember, but to me, she was another chick in our group of friends. Her and Stella were close enough at that time not to fuck each other over, or so I thought. I don’t remember much about Naomi back then. I’m not sure I really knew her that well at all. I knew her enough to know she’d gotten herself in trouble—dating a guy who liked to take his life’s disappointments out on her.

John Cables was older than us but wanted to relive his youth. He trolled the high school parking lot even though he had long since graduated. Met Naomi when she was seventeen and they were a couple from that point on. No idea what happened after I left.

He supplied a lot of the alcohol and popped pills like Tic Tacs. If he wasn’t drunk, he was high. If he wasn’t high, he was low. If he was low, he hit Naomi. Everyone knew it except Stella. She could hang in a party scene, but she always kept an innocence about her that I tried hard to protect. I may have hit bottom, but I didn’t intend to drag her down with me.

I scan the area, but there’s not much to see. Without streetlights, it’s hard to see jack shit in the country. She once told me she had big dreams. If I helped her, she’d make sure they came true. I don’t have to ask her how that worked out. I have a feeling a house that leans to the left with foundation problems and a car in the yard missing its tires aren’t the dreams she had in mind. But sometimes life fucks your plans up before you have a say in the matter.

Naomi’s taller than the average girl and was born into good genes. From what I remember, she liked attention from the opposite sex even though she was taken. I couldn’t tell her the differences I see in her from then and now. I never paid that much attention to her. I remember her confidence and strong will. She could drink most guys under the table when it came to cheap tequila. Back then, holding one’s liquor earned instant respect.

She leans against the siding of the house and twirls a few strands of dark blond hair that looks like she took the time to curl. She’s not the ingénue she likes to pretend to be, and I’m not looking for a hookup, so I avoid her batting eyelashes and just come out with my business. “I once made you a promise.”

“I remember.”

“I need you to free me from my word.”

“Free you? Were you shackled to them?”

“Yes, pretty much.”

She smiles as she opens the screen door. “Let’s go inside and talk about it.”

“No. I’m good.”

“It’s a nice night, but I’m cold.” She walks inside the house.

Although this wasn’t a part of the plan, I want to end it, and the winds have picked up outside. I go inside and let the door slam shut. She turns back with her finger to her lips. “Shh. I’ve got littles sleeping down the hall.”

I stop just inside the living room. Wood blocks are bumped up to the toe of my shoes, cars abandoned on a broken track, dolls that are half dressed and other toys are scattered around the room. “Littles?”

“Kids, Rivers.”

Plural.

Wait a minute. I give my head a shake. “You have kids?”

“I’ve also got cold beers. Pabst Blue or Milwaukee’s Best?”

Beer? “No. Kids? With?”

“Well, that’s rude.”

“I don’t mean to be. But you didn’t want kids. Wasn’t that one of the reasons you needed my help?”

“It’s true. I didn’t, but since I had the first one, I figured what did it matter after that. Know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t have kids. I don’t have anything because I gave you my word not to tell a soul your secret.”

Her head pops up from behind the fridge. “You kept your word?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

The fridge door is closed, and she says, “Because it’s just a word. It’s not like you were going to hell if you told someone.” What the fuck?

“That’s just it, Naomi. I did go to hell because I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, no no. You’re not going to blame me for your unhappiness.” Waggling her finger at me, she looks at me sideways. “What do you have to complain about? You have money. All the fame a girl could only dream about—”

“I never wanted fame. I didn’t even wish for money. I wanted two things. To be able to play music for a living and Stella.”

“It’s been years, and I’m still listening to the same broken record. Poor Stella.” Her upper lip curls into a snarl. “Is this really about Stella?”

“Of course, it’s about Stella. It’s always about Stella for me.”

She pushes her hair behind her shoulders in contempt. Disappointment or hurt feelings crash into her expression. She’s hard to read. “I thought—”

“You thought what?”

“I thought you wanted to see me. That maybe you missed me like I’ve missed you.” Missed her? I barely knew her.

“Why? We weren’t that close, but you still dragged me down into your hell and then abused the little friendship we did have.”

“You chose to help, Rivers. If you didn’t want to, you could have looked the other way like everyone else.”

What the fuck?

I’m not frustrated. I’m angry. At myself for letting this happen. She’s right. I should have looked the other way if my help meant so little. But I couldn’t. My mother. Stella. My brothers. Myself. Looking the other way would have meant disappointing them in another way. Looking the other way when someone needs help is not how I was raised.

I’m struggling to understand how little she valued me and her friendship with Stella. I stepped in when she had no one else looking out for her. I helped so she could have a better chance at that life she dreamed about. “You confided in me that John would hurt you when he found out you were pregnant. That you didn’t want that connection to him and had tried to leave.”

“I didn’t confide in you, Rivers. You’re just the only one who took the bait.”

My stomach churns like a hurricane gaining strength. “The bait?”

“Shh. Keep it down.” She picks up a blanket from the floor and starts folding it. “I thought you wanted to sleep with me, and I wanted John to settle down and commit to me.”

“He hit you.”

“Only a couple of times. He’s gotten better.”

I’m too stunned for words. I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and the lack of any sane emotion coming from her. She’s fucking whacked out of her mind, but that doesn’t change the fact that my life was fucked because of her. “I protected this fucking secret. I lost everything because of it.”

Angling her head, she smiles. “I knew you were noble.”

“Noble? A fucking idiot is more like it. This was all to make your abusive boyfriend jealous? Cables fucked half your friends. That didn’t matter? All that mattered was trying to convince someone who never cared enough about you to give a shit for two seconds? Fuck me.” I turn to leave, but she grabs me.

My head whips to the side, and a hard glare lands on her hand that’s attached to my bicep. “Step back, Naomi.”

With a pound of arrogance in her eyes, she still backs away “Ohhh, how the mighty have fallen. Are you going to hit me?”

“That thought right there shows how little you know me. Let’s keep it that way.”

I head for the door, but before I reach it, she says, “You’re no better than John. You just have more money.”

Money.

Money.

Money.

Fucking money.

Looking down, I see the band on her finger and the green line beneath it that has seeped into her skin. “You know what money can’t buy me? Morals. A clear conscience. Happiness. Guess what? It won’t buy it for you either.”

“Go ride your high horse on out of here, Rivers. I don’t need your judgment wasted on me.”

“I’m not judging you, Naomi. I feel sorry for you. All your dreams have come true. Be careful what you wish for and all that.”

When I step out onto the porch, I close the screen door so it doesn’t bang against the frame. Like her, I feel sorry for these kids who will grow up with a mother who has nothing but herself to blame for the life she hates so much. I glance back once, seeing her stand in the doorway behind the screen with her arms crossed and her chin raised. The desperation in her eyes is seen on the other side of her pride.

I almost can’t be mad at her. It’s my own fault for throwing her a life ring. She did what she learned to do way before I met her. She used her survival skills. I was just too dumb to realize she was surviving while drowning me.

Speak of the devil.

I don’t bother to catch up with John, who’s leaning against my SUV, but after unlocking the door, I turn and look him in the eyes. “You knew, didn’t you?”

He shrugs and kicks up some dirt with the heel of his worn in boot. “I always liked you, Rivers.”

“Apparently.”

“Maybe next time you’re in town, we can grab a beer,” he says with a laugh that seems to indicate he doesn’t understand how this is going down. “Or maybe you can hook us up with some tickets to a show.”

I have to force my gaze away from the blind nerve he has, but I manage. I open the door and don’t waste time where I should have never spent it in the first place.