CHAPTER 23

Amanda

“Why the fuck is this asshole even in town, Sarah?” I asked. “I mean, what the hell did he think I was going to do!?”

“Go home with him, I guess.”

“And what the fuck did I ever do in the past two months to give him that impression?” I asked.

“It’s Daryl, Amanda. He doesn’t need an impression. He gets an idea and thinks if he goes hard enough for it, his charm will do the rest.”

“Charm? He stood right on that fucking sidewalk and called my art a ‘silly little hobby’ or whatever the fuck he said.”

“Which is why he’s an asshole, and you broke up with him,” she said.

“But why the hell is he in town? How the hell did he even know I was here?” I asked.

“I think that might partially be my fault,” she said.

I stopped as the other end of the line went quiet.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“It wasn’t intentional. I swear. When you weren’t responding to his text messages and shit when you left, he came to my work, asking me a bunch of questions about where you were. I might have let slip that you were flying here to get away from him.”

I sighed as I fell back onto the couch.

“I swear to hell, I didn’t think he’d follow you. I was just trying to make a point about the lengths you were going to in order to get away from him. Remember how insistent he was to talk with you those first couple of days after you broke up with him?”

“How could I forget? I almost changed my damn phone number,” I said.

“And it just sort of got blurted out.”

“I’m not angry with you,” I said. “I’m angry with him. Can I get a restraining order?”

“If he hits you or something. But you won’t need one once that happens because I’ll kill him,” she said.

I laughed. “I think you’d need to get in line.”

“So, what happened when you met him on the sidewalk?” she asked.

“He was his usual asshole self and, of course, Brian pops up out of nowhere.”

“Ah, the hero to the rescue.”

“But I don’t need rescuing, Sarah,” I whined. I knew how ridiculous it sounded, but still, I was annoyed. “Sure, yeah, it was hot when he stood up for me in the restaurant. But popping up and basically threatening the guy in the middle of the damn street with Lanie in his arms, is a little much. I can handle my damn self.”

Sarah giggled on the other end of the line. “I know you can, Amanda, but I really think you’re overreacting. He wanted to make sure you were ok. Is that so bad? He wanted to be your protector. What’s wrong with that? After having endured two years with Daryl’s dickless self, I would think you’d be happy to have a guy who wanted to take care of you.”

I rubbed my temple with my free hand and sighed. “I know, but what I if I’m afraid to let him take care of me? I think I’m starting to have real feelings for him Sarah, and that could get messy.”

“My advice? Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. If you guys are going to be fake married or whatever soon, then you need to keep communicating. It’s not going to look good for anyone if a newly-wedded couple is already fighting.”

“What the hell is my life?” I asked.

“Crazy. But it’s entertainment for me, so I don’t care. Just talk to him before you freak out and jump to conclusions. Dating someone like Daryl can make you think the worst about people. Hold off that judgment until you talk to him,” she said.

“I know, I know. You’re right,” I said. “Of course, I am. Now, go talk to him,” Sarah said. “And let me know how it goes.”

I hung up the phone and headed over to Brian’s cabin, but when I knocked on the door, no one answered. I thought about waiting on his porch for him and Lanie to come back from wherever they were, but the temperatures were plummeting quickly, and I didn’t have the proper clothes on. So, I headed back to my cabin and decided to wait there.

I had been severely limiting my time in this cabin. I still hadn’t figured out how in the world I was going to fix it, and being inside of it brought back memories that made my heart ache. Brian and all of this drama was a nice distraction from the hurt I couldn't process. I couldn’t admit to myself that my grandmother was gone. That the only woman who had ever brought me warmth and solace and strength was dead.

Setting my stuff down in the corner, I looked up the old, haggard staircase. I kept making excuses because of the condition of the staircase to not go up there, but really, I was avoiding it because of the memories. My childhood bedroom was up there, and I had no idea what condition it was in. I felt tears rising in my eyes as a pull in my gut tugged me toward the staircase, and soon I was taking gentle steps up the stairs. With each move I made, it seemed the entire house groaned underneath me. I could hear my grandmother’s laughter echoing in my ears as I made it to the top, tears streaming down my face.

I turned to the left and stared at the door. The room I had called my own for years was behind that door. Would it look the same? Would the walls be bare? Would it still have furniture in it or would it be a blank canvas for me to decorate later on?

I swallowed hard and stared down the hallway, listening to the creaking floorboards call out to me underneath my feet. With every groan and pop, the memories came rushing back to me and I almost lost my nerve. The heaviness of my grandmother’s loss, cloaked me like a shroud.

I opened the door and crinkled my nose at the musty scent. Dust was flying around everywhere, causing me to sneeze. I made my way over to a window and threw it open, watching as the dust and grime were visibly sucked out into the nighttime sky.

But when I turned and faced my bed, I saw a note.

Walking toward the edge of the bed, I picked it up gently in my fingers. My name was scribbled across the front in handwriting I recognized. Tears fell onto the envelope as I set the note down, taking in the contents on the bed.

My grandmother must’ve laid this stuff out for me before she had gone into the nursing home.

My favorite stuffed doll was there, with red string for hair and freckles on her cheeks. There was a jewelry box with all of my grandmother’s jewelry and a china set that looked like it would shatter if I chanced to touch it. There was a vase lying on its side, and within it was something silken that was wrapped up into a tight tube-like shape.

My grandmother had taken great care to set it out for me, but I wasn’t ready to go through it just yet.

I left the unopened note on the bed before I shut the window. I made my way downstairs, careful to avoid the gaping hole where I’d fallen through. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see through my tears or feel anything but the slamming of my heart within my chest. I stumbled out onto my porch and fell to my knees, sobbing into my hands as the cold night air enveloped my body.

I was crying so hard I didn’t even hear Brian’s truck pull up beside my cabin.

“Come here,” he said. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“She’s dead,” I said, sobbing. “She’s really really gone.”

“I know baby,” Brian said. “I’m so sorry, Amanda.”

“You don’t get it,” I said. “She raised me.”

“I understand the pain you’re going through,” he said.

“No!” I exclaimed as I ripped myself from him. “No, you don’t.”

He stared down at me with his piercing gaze as I wrapped my arms around my body.

“Where’s Lanie?” I asked.

“In the truck,” he said.

“Good. Because we need to talk.”

“Amanda. Why don’t you come with us to the cabin? I can lay Lanie down to sleep, then we can talk on my couch,” he said.

“I don’t know. I only feel like crying.”

“Amanda,” he said.

I fluttered my watery gaze up to him as he sighed heavily.

“Just come back with us,” Brian said.

I grabbed my things and hopped silently into his truck. Lanie was already asleep in her car seat, which made putting her to bed easy for Brian. I sat on his couch, staring at the empty fireplace.

I must’ve zoned out because when I came to, Brian was next to me and there was a roaring fire warming my body.

“My mother was a drug addict and an alcoholic,” I said.

I felt Brian reach over and wrap my hand up within his.

“She wasn’t always that way, but when she caught my father cheating on her with her best friend, she fell into using to cope. She’d drop me off with my grandmother on the weekends so she could go party, but soon she couldn’t hold a job. We were bouncing around town, living with her bullshit friends and sleeping on couches. I called my grandmother one night when things got too rowdy, and she came and got me. I stayed with my grandmother more than I did my own mother, and soon my grandmother filed for custody of me.”

I felt Brian grip my hand tightly as tears rose to my eyes again.

“I watched how taxing it was for my grandmother to fight my mother for custody. How she had to fight her own daughter. All the proof she had to bring to the table and how much money she had to shell out for a private investigator. It beat her down, emotionally and mentally. These types of fights, they bring out the worst in people. My mother tried to paint my grandmother as an old, decrepit, useless woman who didn’t have the funds or the energy to keep up with a child. My grandmother was just trying to prove to the court that I was financially dependent on her and not my mother. It was hell, Brian. And it’s a hell I’m not willing to let Lanie live.”

“That’s why you’re so willing to help,” he said.

“Yeah. It changed me. Watching all of that changed me, and not for the better. I was angry as a teenager, and art was my outlet. It’s why I was so angry at Daryl all the time for calling my passion idiotic and silly. Because art literally saved me from my mother’s same wasted path.”

“He’s an asshole. You know that, right?” Brian asked.

“I do. I dated him in college because he was the first guy that had ever been interested in me. It was new and exciting, so I shrugged off his comments just to experience what it meant to be liked by a guy. But I found my confidence through my art and wasn’t willing to put up with his shit anymore. He wouldn't support my dreams, and he tried to turn me into someone I wasn’t.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you who are. Lanie and I happen to think you’re pretty great,” he said.

I smiled at him through my tears. “My interview didn’t go quite as planned.”

“Why did the interview not go as planned?” he asked.

“The gallery owner is looking to sell it, not have anyone showcase their stuff in it. And the more I stood in that place, the more I loved it. He asked me about my vision, and why I wanted to open my own gallery someday, and the more I talked about it, the more I wanted it. Badly.”

“Then buy it. Chase your dream, Amanda.”

“It’s not that simple. I don’t even have enough money to fix up the cabin and make it inhabitable. There’s no way I can afford to buy a gallery. I just feel like the walls are closing in on me. My grandmother was the one I would go to with my fears and my questions, and now when I need her most, I’m finally realizing that she’s truly gone. I feel so lost.”

Brian wrapped his arm around me, and I sank myself into him. His strength was comforting, and the warmth of his body cradled me perfectly. I cried into his chest as he pulled me into his lap, his hands rubbing up and down my back. It felt so good to talk. So good to get everything off my chest. I’d been so wrapped up in Brian and Lanie’s world that I had allowed it to replace mine.

My life was still crumbling around me, and I needed to acknowledge that so I could fix it.

“I’ll help you in any way I can,” Brian said. “Whatever you need, just ask.”

“Please hold me,” I said breathlessly. “That’s all I need right now.”

His arms threaded around my body and pulled me tightly against him. I could feel his muscles bracing for my body as my legs straddled his lap. I buried my face in the crook of his neck as he reached for something, then I felt a blanket being fluttered over our bodies.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to revel in the strength and warmth that Brian had wrapped me in, and finally fell asleep.