AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Morgan swipes at his eyes, one tear having leaked free. “I hate it here. I can’t wait to get out. Rhett gets to go. He’s leaving for college, and I’m stuck here. I doubt I’ll be able to leave even after we graduate. I just want to go.”
I try not to let his words hurt me. It’s his life, and it’s not like I expect him to stay. I’ve always known Morgan would want to leave…just like I know I belong in the UP.
“You’re the only thing here that makes it bearable,” Morgan adds, and pulls me into a hug. I inhale his scent, amber and musk, sear it into my senses.
“I want you to go with me when I get out of here. Just me and you. I know you don’t hate Birchbark like I do, and you have your family and stuff, but…I want you with me. My best friend.”
His best friend. That’s all I will ever be to him. And while it should be enough—and in a lot of ways it is—I want more.
“Well, no one is going anywhere today,” I say rather than answering. “And you’re lucky I’ve settled down now. I was going to kick your ass for paying for Mom’s car.”
Morgan shrugs, no regret for his actions. “Money is all I have to give you. You were there when Mom died…you helped us with Ella and Easton. Hell, you were just a kid too, and since I had to be home more to help with them, you were at my place with me. You could have found another friend or been out living your life, but you were here with me. Now…after Ella…” His voice breaks on her name.
I want to tell him he gives me more than money—his friendship, his love, even if it’s not the way I want it. I want to take his hand and bring him down to the dock to lie there and talk to him for hours like we used to before Ella drowned.
I don’t do either of those things. Instead, I say, “Money is the least important thing you give me. Come on. I’ll help you cook dinner for Easton before I bring the car back to Mom.”
Morgan takes my hand, nods, and we go toward the house.
CHAPTER ONE
Morgan
Eighteen years later
“Do you want to go?” The question comes out before I acknowledge what I’m saying. It should be automatic—my question. Or at least I should know if I want my serious boyfriend, the man I live with, to go back home to Birchbark with me, but I already know what he’s going to say, and I don’t feel strongly about it one way or another. That’s not how it’s supposed to be when you’re in a relationship with someone. I know that, but it doesn’t change the reality.
“To spend the summer in Michigan with your family that I’ve never met? I can’t say that I do,” Rob replies, standing in our bedroom in a pair of briefs and a button-up white shirt. Rob is…honest, blunt. He’s logical and doesn’t sugarcoat feelings. It took some getting used to, but now I don’t even flinch. I’d rather know where people stand than be blindsided. I’d rather not think someone is one person, only to be completely betrayed by them. “I can’t believe you’re going.” He glances toward my suitcase, which is beside me on the mattress.
“My dad had a stroke.” The soft fabric of our blanket is like a pillow beneath my thighs. All the stuff in our Santa Monica condo is Rob’s. It was his place, and I’d moved in with him. None of it is really my taste, but the bed is certainly comfortable. Most things here are too sterile for me, though, but I don’t care enough to mention it to him.
Rob pulls a pair of slacks from a hanger. “You hate your dad.”
My spine stiffens, memories trying to dig their way to the surface, but I throw more dirt on the pile, not willing to let the past become uncovered.
He’s right. I do hate my father. There had been two people in his life he cared about making happy: my mom and himself. Actually, that’s not true. He was different with Ella, but I think that’s because she was the only girl and Mom had wanted her so damn much. The week before she’d hemorrhaged, Mom had been the happiest I’d ever seen her. And while Dad doted on Ella in ways he didn’t with us boys, he’d left taking care of her and Easton to me, Rhett, and nannies. Rhett and I’d both had Ella and Easton to worry about after we lost Mom.
A slow ache starts in my chest. I rub my hand over my left pec, trying to massage it out before it can grow. “My brothers need me,” I say, unsure why I’m even talking to Rob about this. If I want to share with anyone, it should be Spencer, my closest friend in Santa Monica. He’s the kind of guy who will drop everything to go with me if I ask, but he’s also in a new relationship and crazy in love with his boyfriend, Corbin. I’m not going to bring my shit to his doorstep.
“The brothers you rarely talk to? You can’t even speak to Rhett without getting angry, and the only time he calls is when there’s something going on with your dad or Easton. I don’t pretend to understand what happened between you and your family, but I really can’t make sense of you taking a leave of absence to go help people you haven’t seen in ten years.”
Rob has never asked—not about what happened, not if I’m okay, not if I need him. That’s always worked for me because I don’t like to get too close, but in this moment, I can’t help wondering what in the fuck I’m doing. Why I’ve spent so much time with this man, and why he stays with me when I’m not sure he likes me very much.
Because you don’t ask much of him. Because you’re just as closed off as he is.
I grab my jeans and tug them on. The truth is, I don’t know why I’m going. Rob’s right. I can’t talk to Dad or Rhett without getting angry. Rhett’s been in competition with me my whole life, doing everything in his power to be exactly who Dad wants him to be. Everything has always been about Rhett getting what he wants, and he’s taken it all, even the one person who meant the most to me. Dusty.
And Easton…sometimes I feel like I don’t know him at all. He’s always been in his own world, but he would invite us in, joke and be silly with us before he lost Ella. He would spend whole afternoons chasing butterflies with her simply because she loved them so much. After that…he became completely closed off.
I mentally shovel more dirt on the pile.
But regardless, I’ve always felt an obligation to my family, to take care of what needs to be done, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Even if returning to the UP feels like cutting my own damn heart out.
*
I didn’t feel much as I flew into Detroit, not even when I rented a car and started to drive. It’s not until I’m driving across the Mackinac Bridge that it really hits me what I’m doing. Going home. To Birchbark.
