I gulped as I saw the second sign for Harpers Creek and my heart felt like it was going to break out of my chest. I felt excited and sad all at the same time. I knew that my decision was going to end up breaking someone’s heart.
Chapter 4
Bryce
There’s something about the sound of silence that makes you feel comforted. Maybe it’s because when we’re in silence we don’t have to bother with the externalities around us. In war, the sound of silence is never a good thing. It means we are waiting for something big to happen and we don’t want to be heard. The eerie sound of silence while you are at war is usually followed by a deafening bellow; a scream or an explosion and then all that calmness vanishes. The calmness vanishes and chaos ensues.
Silence can indicate impending doom, but as I lay here in the most deafening silence, I wasn’t scared. The doom had already happened. My life was already over. I was a zombie now. Living, but not really. I was one of the walking dead. I laughed to myself at my joke. Maybe there was a reason I enjoyed watching the show so much on TV. Maybe I knew that I was soon to be a part of them; one of the tribe.
I walked to the riverbank and saw the little bubbles indicating that fish were swimming by—how easy their life must be, I thought. How simple and refreshing. Maybe I could catch a few and take them home for my mom to cook. I was about to go to my car to grab a hook, but then I remembered my mom wasn’t here any more. She wasn’t going to be frying up any more of the fish I caught. She wasn’t going to be there to ask me what food I wanted her to prepare for a dinner party, we weren’t going to watch Jeopardy together any more, or to talk about football games. I laughed as I thought about how much my mom used to love to talk about football. More than any guy I ever knew. I think it was because her cousins had all been into football, so she had grown up talking about football every holiday season.
She’d been so proud of me as the quarterback. She’d come to every single game. She didn’t miss one. Not a one. But she had never been disappointed when I had turned Notre Dame down; even though I knew she had been excited to come up to the games. She’d always told me that whatever I wanted to do was fine by her and that she would always love and support me. And she had. She’d loved me through everything. And she’d cried with me when Eddie died. It was as if she had known that I felt guilty. She had been home the night Eddie and I had fought. She’d seen him running and crying, heard me banging the walls. And then, he’d died. And I had broken down. But mom had been there for me.
“Say hi to Eddie for me, Mom.” I whispered to the river. Maybe my mom was telling Eddie how sorry I was about what happened. Maybe they were catching up and laughing about all the things he and I used to do to cause trouble when we were youngsters. It was thoughts like that that made it easier for me to breathe. To exist. I wanted to go home and grab my bottle of pills. I knew they would help me. I knew that they would numb the pain and the crushing fire that burned inside of me. But I resisted. I had to resist. I knew that if I didn’t start resisting the urge to pop a pill, I’d be seeing the other side of a grave myself. And I knew that I didn’t want that. Not now and not that way.
I’d lost everything today: my mom, Lexi, my self-respect. I could still see the shock in Lexi’s eyes as I had told her about Anna. She had been so hurt. I wanted to tell her it meant nothing to me. That Anna had been nothing. And that she had made my heart soar with love and lust with just a touch of her lips against mine. The feel of her skin had sent a fever up my spine, that hadn’t been quenched with our mating. I longed to touch her, to feel her, to consume her. I wanted her right now. I needed her here on the riverbank, to be with me, to love me, to heal me.
I froze as I saw a deer run out to go and drink some water. He paused as he saw me and our eyes connected. There was a passing of some deeper emotion that slowed between us and it was as if we were communicating subconsciously. I willed him to come over to me. But, as I took a small step closer, he ran away from me. I laughed as he ran. Even the deer knew that I was the scum of the earth.
I sat back on the grass and looked at my phone to see the time. I had three missed calls: one from my dad, one from Lexi and, surprisingly, one from Anna. I hadn’t expected Anna to call me. I suppose she was upset that I had told Lexi what had happened. Another selfish act I suppose.
I put my phone away without calling any of them back. It still hadn’t quite hit me that my mom was dead. I couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t see her smiling face again. She wouldn’t be coming up to my room to tell me that dinner was ready. She wouldn’t be sending my care packages. And I wouldn’t be helping her to move out, to finally live her life, away from my conniving dad.
I had wanted her to win so badly, to defeat him—to make him look like a fool to the whole town. And now that would never happen. She’d never get to meet my kids, or to gush at my wedding. I’d never see her again. The tears ran from my face and I tried to stop them. I was a man. I shouldn’t be crying this much.
My phone started ringing again and I grabbed it from my pocket to see who was calling. I was so shocked to see Luke’s name that I answered it.
“Hello?” I kept my voice low so he couldn’t hear the emotion.
“Is that you, Bryce?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks.” I wanted to tell him to shut up but I was too tired.
“I know you think my words are baseless but they’re not. I knew your mom quite well. I saw her at the hospital a lot.”
“At the hospital?” I frowned. “Why was she at the hospital?”
“Sorry, I thought you knew. She volunteered there, in the kid’s ward.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, she and I both had a special bond with Shelby.”
“That’s nice.” My heart dropped as I thought about the little girl with cancer. I didn’t want to think about another girl dying.
“We both took an interest in Shelby because she’s an orphan, you see.”
“That’s sad.” I didn’t know what to say. I just wanted to get off the phone. “But why did you call?”
“I guess you wouldn’t call her an orphan per se,” he continued. “Her parents are alive, but she was given up.”
“Man, that sucks,” I sighed.
“She’s been at the orphanage since she was born. Once families find out she has cancer, they don’t want to adopt her.”