WE ONLY HAD THREE customers at the stand the entire day of Brice Evans’ funeral. I sat there until about two in the afternoon, when I couldn’t stand it anymore. Bridget’s bus wouldn’t drop her off until four, but I needed to be back home for my own sanity.
I trudged back to the house through the fields, not seeing anything that I passed. Instead, my mind kept up a running film of the Evans family, what they were going through today, all the while remembering the awful day we’d officially said good-bye to my own parents. I’d been just about to turn fifteen, at the end of my freshman year. Flynn and I’d been dating, official girlfriend/boyfriend, for about six months.
Our relationship had begun slowly, evolving from two people who’d discovered they liked to hang out together into a real friendship. By Thanksgiving of our freshman year, we were talking for hours on the phone every night, and no one had been surprised when Flynn asked me to be his date to the school’s annual Christmas dance. But he was careful with me; we didn’t touch beyond what was required for dancing, although I often caught him staring at my lips. When he left me at my front door that night with a chaste kiss on the cheek, I’d stomped into the house and called Alex.
“I think he’s gay.” I shimmied out of the strapless black dress I’d been sure would entice Flynn into kissing me. Really kissing me. Maybe even . . . more.
Alex sighed on the other end of the phone. “Ali, he’s not gay. Believe me, I’d know. He’s just . . . waiting. I think he wants to make sure you’re okay with it. He told me how much he likes you. He doesn’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for.”
I fell onto the bed with a frustrated groan. “Oh, I’m ready. Believe me, I’m real ready. If I’m any more ready, I might just implode.”
“Whoa there, little miss hot-to-trot. Stop and think. Trust me when I say holding back isn’t easy for our boy, either. And I doubt he’s going to be able to do it much longer. But you should be flattered, because he really likes you. That’s why he’s waiting.”
So I’d swallowed my tenuously-banked passion and smiled at Flynn at school, sat on my hands when we were studying together in my living room, and gritted my teeth when we went to the movies and sat side-by-side without touching.
The day before Christmas break began, Flynn asked me to walk home with him after school, so he could give me my Christmas present. He promised his mom would drive me out to the farm afterward, and once I’d cleared it with Sam, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and met Flynn at his locker.
“Ready?” He picked up his own bag and then reached over to mine. “Here, let me take that.”
I felt a delicious thrill as his hand lifted the strap from my back. And then I nearly passed out with happiness when he extended his hand to me. “Let’s go.”
I slid my hand into his, and he laced our fingers together, squeezing for just a minute as he gazed down at me.
We walked to his house through the unusually cold December air. This part of Georgia didn’t usually get a real cold snap until late January. But I didn’t feel anything except the warmth of Flynn’s hand against mine the whole way. We talked a little, mostly about what we wanted to do over break. There were a couple of movies Flynn wanted to see, and I’d talked Sam into driving Alex, Flynn and me into Savannah one day to see the lights and do some real shopping.
Once we got to his house, Flynn gave me a pretty gold necklace, a delicate chain from which dangled a small A. I wore it every day for four years, and I still had it, up in my jewelry box. But my real gift that day was his hand in mine as we walked.
The day after Christmas, Flynn asked me to go with him to Cary Maynard’s New Year’s Eve party. He’d held my hand the entire night, and when the clock struck midnight, Flynn Evans finally, finally kissed me.
It was worth waiting for. Totally worth it.
Over the next six months, Flynn and I were together almost constantly, or at least as constantly as our parents and school would allow. We didn’t move beyond kissing and hand-holding, since private time was hard to come by. But our kissing had gotten more involved and creative, and every now and then, his hand strayed somewhere in the vicinity of my boob. But never for long, and never close enough.
That May, my parents celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary. They decided to drive over to Gatlinburg for a week, just the two of them, so my grandparents came up from Florida to stay with Sam and me. My brother’d groused that he didn’t need a babysitter, but my mom pacified him, saying Gram and Grampy were coming so that he didn’t have to keep his eye on me the entire time. She winked at me behind his back, though, so I knew the truth.
I actually didn’t mind having my grandparents stay with us. They liked Flynn, and as long as we didn’t interrupt their afternoon talk shows, we could sit out on the porch as long as we liked, which is why we were the first ones to see the police car pull up that day.
I knew all the local cops. There weren’t many, and in a town the size of Burton, there wasn’t much turnover. This was not someone I knew, and as I sat up, in the porch swing, pushing against Flynn’s chest, I realized it was a state police car.
My first thought was Sam, who’d stayed in town that afternoon to work on a group project. But as soon as the first trooper spoke, I knew. I just knew.
“Is this the home of Joseph and Elizabeth Reynolds?”
I couldn’t speak. My mouth moved, but no sound came out. Flynn took my hand, tight, and spoke for me. Through a loud ringing in my ear, I heard him say that yes, this was their home. My grandfather opened the door and stepped out, and after that, I didn’t remember anything. For the next week, everything was hazy and painful and too loud, and the only constant was Flynn holding my hand. He never left my side. At night, he slept next to me on my bed, waking to hold me when the nightmares made me scream.
The day of their funeral, that horrible, surreal day, Flynn sat with us in the church. At the end, when I began to cry hysterically, he pulled my face into his shoulder and whispered into my ear.
“Shhh, baby. Ali. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll never leave you.”
Remembering that time still cut deep. And I felt not a little guilty that I hadn’t had the courage to go to Flynn’s father’s service today. No matter what had happened in the intervening years, nothing could erase my gratitude to him for his support during the darkest days of my life.
I got home, not surprised to see that Sam and Meghan were still out. I thought about taking that elusive bubble bath, but I was too restless. I wandered around the house, picking up dirty socks from Bridget’s floor, putting away the few dishes that were in the sink. But everything was too silent and too empty. It made me uneasy and antsy. I almost wished I’d stayed back at the stand.
I heard the slam of a car door and hurried into the kitchen. When the screen door opened, Meghan stepped inside, her face pinched. Sam was right behind her.
“How was it?” I knew it was a terrible thing to ask, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Meghan just shook her head and walked through the kitchen. I listened to the sound of her climbing the steps and glanced at my brother, one eyebrow raised.
Sam dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. “It was hard on her. You know, it’s only been a few years since her dad, and it’s still tough on her.”
I sat down, too. “I’m sorry. Was . . . was it very emotional?”
“It was a funeral, Ali. Yeah, it was emotional.” He ran one hand through his hair until it stood on end. “He was looking for you. Flynn was.”
Panic and something akin to hope flared inside me. “He was? How do know?”
“He kept looking over my shoulder, at the door. Like he was waiting for someone else.”
“How do you know it was me? Maybe . . . it was another classmate. Someone from his family. Or did you ever think, maybe he’s got a girlfriend and she was supposed to be there today?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake, Ali. I could tell. He looked at me, saw Alex and right away, he starts staring at the door. Like he’s just willing you to come through it.”
Unexpected tears filled my eyes. “It was better for me not to go. Trust me.”
“See, I don’t get that.” Sam leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table. “I remember the two of you back in high school. You were tighter than any other couple I’d ever seen. One time . . .” He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “It was the year after . . . the accident. I was coming around from the fields, and you two were on the front porch, sitting in the swing.”
I groaned and covered my face. “Oh, God, Sam, I hope this isn’t what I think it is.”
He shook his head. “No, Ali. Believe me, if I’d caught you doing that, I wouldn’t have waited ten years to let you know. You were just cuddling, or whatever. Sitting close together. You didn’t see me, but I could hear you talking, and it hit me that you guys reminded me of Mom and Dad. How many times did we see them doing the same thing, just talking and you know, being together. I thought, wow, those two really are going to go the distance.”
“Yeah, well, we all were wrong about that, weren’t we? I don’t see what that has to do with today.”
“It has everything to do with today.” Sam studied me, his eyes narrow. “Why did you and Flynn fight on graduation night?”
My mouth dropped open. “Aren’t you, like, nine years too late to ask that question?”
“Probably. At the time, I figured it was just something that you two would work out. And you were doing that girl-crying thing. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” His mouth twisted. “If I’d had Meghan around in those days, maybe she could’ve helped.”
I smirked. “If I were a really cruel sister, I’d point out that your girlfriend was only thirteen at that time. I somehow doubt she’d have been much help.”
Sam shuddered. “You really are cruel. The last thing I want to think about is Meghan being almost ten years younger than me. Anyway, you’re changing the subject. The point is, I never really knew why you and Flynn fought. Maybe if I’d been a better brother, gotten involved, things might’ve turned out different.”
I reached across the table and laid my hand on his arm. “Let me put your mind at ease. There was nothing you could’ve done to make things turn out different for Flynn and me. He gave me an ultimatum. I didn’t like it. He left. End of story.”
“What kind of ultimatum?” He tugged at the dark tie around his neck. My brother was so not the suit and tie type.
I waved my hand. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Ali.” Sam sat back, studying his hands. “Were you . . . were you seeing someone else behind Flynn’s back? Is that the ultimatum he gave you—give up Craig or he was leaving?”
“What the hell are you talking about? How could you think that about me?”
Sam’s eyes were clouded, his face filled with misery. “I don’t want to think it. I didn’t want to think it at the time. But Flynn left, and two months later you were marrying Craig. And then you were pregnant. It was awful sudden, Ali. You can’t blame me for wondering.”
I couldn’t answer him. It’d never occurred to me that Sam might think I’d been cheating on Flynn. Looking back, I could see his point. At the time, though, Id been so preoccupied with my own misery that I’d never considered how it might look to my brother. I’d been grateful that he accepted what I told him without question.
“Why didn’t you ask me about this before now?” I kept my voice low.
“I guess . . . it was easier not to wonder. I told myself you were grown up and you knew what you were doing.” He hesitated for a minute before lifting his eyes to mine. “I even thought once or twice that maybe . . . maybe Bridget was Flynn’s. But then I knew you’d never do that to him. You couldn’t deny him his own child.”
I felt the blood drain from my face, and my chest tightened. I bit down on my lip, just to keep from crying. I couldn’t speak, but tears welled up and ran down my cheeks.
“Oh, no.” Sam whispered the words, and I saw the reflection of my own agony in his face. “Ali. You wouldn’t. All this time . . . and you never told him? You never told me? How could you do that?”
I couldn’t answer him over the lump in my throat. I only shook my head.
“Alison.” He dropped his forehead onto the heels of his hands. “God. I can’t even . . . what kind of idiot did you take me for? Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve dealt with it together.”
“She. Not an it. Bridget was my baby. She’s my child. Don’t talk about her like she was a problem we could’ve solved.” Bitterness tinged my words. Yeah, maybe I still had some lingering resentment over how alone I’d felt in those days. Alone by my own choice, but I remembered how many time I’d wished Sam would figure it out.
“When I said ‘it,’ I meant the situation, not Bridge. God, Ali, you know I love that kid. I wouldn’t change anything about having her in my life. But I can’t believe you’d intentionally keep Flynn from knowing about her. He deserved to know. He still does.”
I choked back another sob. “But he’d left me, Sam. He’d walked away from me, when he promised he’d never leave me alone. If I’d told him I was pregnant, he’d have come back. But it wouldn’t have been for me. It would’ve been because he felt obligation. All Flynn ever wanted was to get out of here. You know that. He couldn’t wait to leave.”
Sam stood up and stalked across the kitchen. “And you didn’t think about that before you got pregnant? Before you—he—” My brother couldn’t get out the words.
“I thought I was going with him.” I finally voiced the words I’d avoided. “We’d planned . . . we were going to leave town together.”
Sam turned on me, brows drawn together. “Really? When was that decided? I don’t remember discussing it with you.”
I folded my hands on the table, squeezing them tight. “We were going to talk to you after graduation. I wasn’t going to just leave.”
“So what changed?” Sam braced his hands on the back of the kitchen chair across from me.
I swallowed hard. “I decided I didn’t want to leave Burton.” It wasn’t the complete truth, but it was as close to it as I was getting.
Sam stared down me, unblinking. “So you changed your mind about leaving. But you could’ve changed it back once you found out you were pregnant.”
“By then he’d left me. I was miserable and freaking out, but Craig was there, and he offered . . . well, he said he’d marry me and be the baby’s father. We’d been hanging out already, and I know now it sounds dumb, but I thought . . . why not? He was so excited, and I figured it might work.”
“It might work.” Sam slammed his hand down onto the table, and I jumped a mile. “God, Ali, when did you become such an idiot? Where did I go wrong, that you thought it was okay to fuck with people’s lives, so long as you didn’t have to be inconvenienced?” He was yelling now, and I cowered, burying my face in my arms.
“Sam.” A soft voice in the doorway pulled our attention away from each other. Meghan had changed into jeans and one of Sam’s flannel shirts. Her hair was down around her drawn face as she glanced from my brother to me.
“Meghan.” He crossed the room to pull her into his arms. “I thought you were going to get a nap before you went back to Savannah.”
She laid her cheek against his chest for a moment, and a surge of jealousy shot through me. I wanted that. I wanted that security, that comfort. It was killing me that I’d never have it with the one person I needed.
“I was lying down, but I could hear you arguing.” She looked at me around his shoulder. “Sam, you need to cut Ali a break. Don’t yell. Let’s just sit down and talk about this calmly.”
“But you don’t know—” He began to speak, and then realization dawned in his eyes. “You do know. You knew already, didn’t you?”
“Sam, don’t blame Meghan.” I couldn’t let my crap get between my brother and the love of his life. “I told her last summer, before the two of you were together. I begged her not to tell you, and I promised I would. It’s all my fault.”
Sam studied her, his fingers gripping her chin. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead into hers for a moment before he looked at me again. “God, Ali. I’m beginning to feel like I don’t even know you. So not only did you lie to me for years, you pulled Meghan into it, too. You put her in a rotten position.”
“I’m sorry.” I wiped at my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Sam. And Meghan. I didn’t mean to screw everything up. I just wanted to protect Bridget.”
A loud creaking outside drew our attention away from the tension in the room. Meghan pushed her hair away from her face and glanced at me. “That’s the bus. Bridget can’t come into this, not right now. How about I take her into town and get some ice cream while you two settle down? Work this out.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Meghan. That would be great. I really appreciate it.” I paused for a beat, and then added, “You’ll keep her away from the Evans’ house, right? Just in case.”
Sam snorted, but Meghan ignored him. “I’ll do my best. But Ali, you need to make this right. I know it’s going to be hard, and painful, but you’ve got to do it.”
I didn’t answer, and she sighed as she stood on her toes to kiss Sam. He caught her arm and pulled her tighter.
“Are you sure about this? I thought you were heading back to the city tonight.”
She touched his cheek. “I think I’ll wait until tomorrow. I don’t have anything pressing back there tonight, and maybe I can help out a little.” She kissed him and went out the front door.
“She’s right, you know.” Sam leaned against the archway that led from the living room into the kitchen. “You need to tell Flynn the truth. Now. Before he leaves town again.”
My stomach clenched. “But what if he tries to take Bridget away from me? Sam, I’ll die. I can’t lose her. She’s my life.”
My brother pressed his lips together. “Yeah, I know. But you should’ve thought about that before you kept her from her dad all these years.”
When I began to sob in earnest, Sam relented, sighing and pulling up a chair next to me. “Come on, Ali. This is Flynn. He’d never take her away from you. But he deserves to know the truth, and he definitely needs to get to know his daughter. If I ever found out I had a kid and the mother hadn’t told me, I’d be furious about the time I didn’t get. But more than that, I’d want to make sure I didn’t miss anything else in her life.”
“Sam.” I managed to speak somehow. “But what if he hates me? What if Flynn . . . despises me?”
He slowly shook his head. “I don’t know, Ali. I guess you take it one step at a time and hope for the best.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and drew me tight to his side. “But I promise we’ll get through it together, no matter what happens. Okay? I’m here for you.” He tilted my chin up until my teary eyes met his. “I always have been. Don’t forget it.”