Brody

 

I wanted to feel the wind whipping past me. I blamed Morgan’s influence and was driving through the hills on my Harley two hours later. I called my brother’s widow and asked to talk. Cheryl agreed.

I picked a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. The walls were littered with signatures, graffiti, and old images of customers who wanted to feel as if they left some memory there hung on the walls. The booths were covered in old black leather, and when I walked in, the hostess didn’t blink an eye.

“Mr. Asher.” A professional smile greeted me as she grabbed a few menus. “How many?”

“Just two. Somewhere private.”

“Of course.”

The interior was cast in low lights. Only a few candles on the tables and some lights lining the walkways gave us any indication where to go and sit in the place. She showed me to a back booth, and there only two others in our section. Both were empty.

She extended a hand toward one side of the booth. “Will this suit you?”

“It’s perfect.” I slid in one side, and she placed the drink menu in front of me. “I have one other joining me. Cheryl Asher.”

She straightened. “Of course. I’ll show Ms. Conway to your booth when she arrives.”

“She’s using her maiden name?”

She nodded. “She is, Mr. Asher.”

Fuck.

I sat back as she left. What did that mean? I’d only been gone five weeks, maybe longer.

The server came once, took my order, and then Cheryl slipped into the side across from me.

My sister-in-law kept to the background whenever I was around their family. I spent time with Kyle first and foremost, then my nieces when they came along. The number of times Cheryl and I had a conversation could be counted on one hand, and most of those times had been because of his funeral.

I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.” I looked her over, noting the bags under her eyes through her sunglasses. “You look tired.”

She wore a white scarf around her neck and a black dress. As she got comfortable, she took the glasses off and pulled the scarf off her head so it fell down her front, resting behind her neck. A sad smile graced her face. She folded the glasses, positioning them in perfect alignment with her napkin. “That isn’t usually thought of as a compliment, but I’ll take it. It’s better than being told I look like death.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Someone said that to you?”

She met my gaze briefly, that sad smile still in place. “You’d be surprised how many people have told me that and pretend as if they just realized how insensitive the comment was.” Her grin went flat. “Assholes, the lot of them.”

I laughed shortly. This was more personality from my sister-in-law than I’d ever seen before.

She showed more, saying, “Thank you for calling.”

Right to business.

Okay.

I went with it.

“We had a break in shooting the movie.”

The server came back, my soda and water in hand. She skimmed a look over us both before turning to my sister-in-law. “Ms. Conway? Something to drink?”

“Beer. Please. Tall.”

This was new. Cheryl never drank before. She left that for Kyle and me.

The server nodded again.

Cheryl kept fiddling with her sunglasses. She didn’t look like she was going to stay long.

“Cheryl.” I gestured in the direction the server disappeared. “They’re calling you by your maiden name?”

She didn’t answer right away, taking a moment and looking at her lap. “This wasn’t just your spot before. It was yours and Kyle’s.”

He and I had spent many nights in this bar, getting falling over wasted while we played pool. We were so sloppy, I could only imagine what names the staff must’ve called us, but we were regulars.

She added, “I started coming here after the accident. I wanted to . . .” She reached up, flicking a finger over her cheek. “He’s everywhere, but I just remember the fights at home. I don’t feel that when I come here. He loved coming here. He loved spending time with you here.”

I sank back against my seat. My own head went low.

We’d drink.

We’d laugh.

We’d be stupid together.

No one cared who we were back then.

My throat was thick when I rasped out, “I asked you to come today because I needed to talk to you about something. I haven’t been able to shake it—”

“It was ruled an accident.” She was looking at me with a knowing look, like she was privy to the mess in my head. “He didn’t kill himself.”

I just looked at her. She said the words I wanted to hear, the words I’d been too chickenshit to ask, but all I could do in that moment was stare at my sister-in-law.

The thought that he had . . .

I eyed the bottle of bourbon on the wall behind the bar. That’d go down real smooth.

Her head lifted. She looked so tired, but she’d never looked so strong. I could see why my brother fell in love with her. She’d been the rock of their relationship, not him.

She said, “I know that’s why you called today. Or, I guessed. Your old publicist was a bitch. She never said anything outright, but she hinted that he took his own life. I saw the same interviews you did, and I know you sent her a cease and desist, but she still put that out there.”

A few interviews too late. A few phone calls too late.

Shelby shouldn’t have even had the opportunity to do any interviews, but I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been wallowing. I’d been drinking.

I was mourning.

“About that, I’m sorr—”

“No.” She leaned forward, her hand resting on mine. “It’s not true. I want you to know that. I didn’t know for sure if that’s what you were questioning, but when you called earlier, I just had this certainty. Your brother did not kill himself. He loved you. He loved us. He loved life, and he was so goddamn proud of you. You have no idea how much life was bursting out of him when he left to go to your premiere.”

I didn’t have any words. The relief inside—I believed her.

I could almost imagine Kyle snorting, saying, “About fucking time. Ass.”

“Thank you, Cheryl.” I drew in a ragged breath. I felt some of the storm in me start to settle, and just like that, I wanted Morgan here. I wanted her next to me. She would’ve held my hand under the table. She would’ve realized it was too hard for me to speak, and she would’ve started a conversation with Cheryl for me, because that’s what my sister-in-law needed.

She needed to hear the words back, that I believed her. That Kyle wouldn’t have done what some greedy bitch had insinuated, but she didn’t understand.

I was ashamed.

As soon as I accepted her words, a new wave of guilt came with it. I should’ve believed it from the day one, from when the accident happened.

I hadn’t. I let the doubt sink in.

Cheryl didn’t make a sound, not one whimper, but her hand lifted to wipe at a tear.

Fuck’s sake.

I should’ve been around more. I should’ve called more, stopped by her house to check in, helped more with the actual funeral instead of just paying for everything. Kyle had money. I knew Cheryl and the girls would be taken care of, but I had more. It was one way I could help without having to see the evidence that he was really gone.

I felt daggers sliding down my throat.

This was why he’d been haunting me. I hadn’t stepped up.

“I’m sorry for not being here more.”

Her head moved left to right, but she didn’t look up. “No, it’s fine. We grieve differently.”

I reached over and grasped her hand. “My brother loved you, and he was loved. He was happy with you. You made him happy.”

Morgan was right.

This was why I came back to Los Angeles. I needed closure, and I needed to step up, be there for Cheryl and his family now that he was gone.

Fuck Shanna and her script change, but I was thankful in this small moment.

After that, we talked. I was told everything amazing that happened to Alisma and Ambrea. They were in gymnastics, but now they wanted to play tennis. Cheryl smiled so wide as she talked about their tennis games. Alisma wouldn’t sit still at the events, and Ambrea kept wanting to bring their pet rabbit with them.

By the end of the night, my stomach hurt from laughing. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

It felt good to talk about him. Damned good.

“Last call, folks.” The server paused, looking between us.

Cheryl shook her head. “Goodness. I’m drunk. I haven’t been like this for a long time.”

I said to the server, “I’ll take the bill.”

“No, no, Bro—” Cheryl started protesting.

The server walked away, already knowing it was pointless. I was paying, and that was it.

“It’s my job to help you guys out.”

Cheryl started to shake her head.

“I mean it, Cheryl. I’ll feel like I’m still helping Kyle in some way.”

Knowing she couldn’t argue with that, the fight left her.

After paying the bill, we were walking out as I asked, “You want a ride home?” I started to gesture to where my bike was when the camera flashes started.

“Brody!”

“Brody, smile!”

Paparazzi.

They were everywhere, swarming us around the sidewalk.

I didn’t think. I threw an arm around Cheryl’s shoulders and pulled her with me to my bike. I had parked it down the road.

“Brody, isn’t that your brother’s widow?”

“Are you two together now?”

“Brody, are you cheating on Morgan?”

That stopped me, and I whirled around.

The fucker was right behind me and raised his camera, blinding me with the flash of his camera.

Fuck. That’d be in all the papers tomorrow.

“Brody.” Cheryl tugged on my arm. “Come on.”

We got to my bike. I handed Cheryl the helmet and then swung my leg over the seat. After I knocked the kickstand back with my heel, I held the bike steady as she climbed on behind me.

“Do you talk to Morgan regularly?” Some guy was recording this. He got in front of the bike. “Was it love at first sight?”

“Move!” I barked out, turning the engine on.

He didn’t, but I started edging out. When I was two feet from hitting him, he finally moved.

The cameras were still rolling. The flashes kept going. So did the questions. They were talking to me as if they knew me, as if I were their best friend, as if they knew who Morgan was. They knew nothing, and I leaned forward, zooming down the street.

Cheryl had her hands tight around my waist, but I wasn’t thinking of my sister-in-law or even my brother.

I understood Morgan in that moment, when she would kick Shiloh into a dead sprint.

She was racing away from the world.

 

 

Cheryl was quiet when I pulled up to her parents’ house. She climbed off, handing me the helmet. I thought she’d go in right away, and I moved to start the bike again, but she didn’t. She half-hugged herself with one arm and tilted her head to the side.

“I stopped watching television after Kyle died, because . . . well, you know.” She glanced at her house, tugging on her scarf. “When you left for that movie, it faded away and my mom told me I could start watching television again. It was on EGossip Tonight. It’s on all the blog sites too.”

There it was again. Morgan and me.

I started to feel the same irritation I felt with anyone trying to pry into my business, it was gut instinct. But this was Cheryl. She had no angle. She just cared.

I forced my hands off the handles but kept them in my lap.

Cheryl could take an hour or two or three to say whatever she wanted. I would wait.

“I know how you hate being told your own gossip.” A fleeting smile flared and vanished behind a cough. “I just wanted to let you know that if you wanted to talk, I’m here if you need me too.”

“Thank you.”

She was studying my face and laughing a bit nervously. “And I can tell you don’t want to talk about her at all.” She gestured to me. “I forget sometimes how much you and Kyle look alike. He always got the same expression.” She quieted and then gestured behind her. “I should head in.” She started to edge backward, stopping halfway to her door to say, “I mean it, Brody. If you need something, I’m here. I really am.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Cheryl.”

She gave me a small wave before unlocking the door and ducking inside.

I got back on my bike and raced away feeling something fixed inside me, and because I was missing my woman, I imagined her running next to me on Shiloh.