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“How did you guys end up with it.”
“Aunt Jan died about a year and a half ago. Since she didn’t have any children, her possessions went to Dad. He sold most everything but kept the car. He wants to restore it, but he’s no mechanic. When Mom’s condition worsened, he paused working on it.”
“I didn’t realize your aunt had died.”
“I’m sure she wasn’t your top priority when you went home for the summer.”
“I haven’t been back home since freshman year.”
She gives me a concerned but knowing look. Having witnessed my dad’s wrath, I’m sure she can figure out my reasoning.
“Do you miss home?”
“No. The only thing I miss about Bellow Bay is the skyline over the ocean. Oh, and my friend, Marty, but that’s it. I should miss my brother, but I resigned myself to not talking to him. I knew that was coming.” I certainly don’t miss my old man or sweating at his mechanic shop. I don’t miss the punches to the sides or slaps against the head.
She nods in understanding. “When does your brother get out?”
“His parole hearing is at the end of August. He may get out then. Otherwise, it’ll be in another three years.” My brother got seven years for attempted murder. It was a robbery gone bad. I don’t believe he intended to shoot anyone, but he did bring the gun. Unfortunately, the gun had a hair trigger. Between my drunk father and thieving brother, my reputation suffered. I was never so happy to leave.
“Have you visited him in jail?”
“No. I know that makes me a bad person, but I just can’t do it.”
“Are you going back for the parole hearing?”
“Not if I can help it.” Our gaze connects. “Dad still blames me for my brother getting caught. Like I somehow forced him to steal because I wanted to play ball. I hate being there when he doesn’t get released. It was ugly the last time he got denied.” Dad took his anger out on me. He tried hitting me, but I stopped him. Then I hopped on the first possible flight out of North Carolina. I haven’t been back since. If I never stepped foot in that state again, I wouldn’t cry.
“Did you ever seek counseling?”
“No.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to have someone professional to talk to. Maybe you wouldn’t feel so isolated.”
“Maybe one day. Until then, I’ll avoid home as much as I can.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“No, but I’m still sorry people judge you.”
“Story of my life.” I step inside her space and watch her body tremble. I love knowing I caused that reaction.
“They don’t know the real you.”
“I’m not sure the real me is worth getting to know.”
“That’s not true.”
“You once said when we met again, the timing would be better. But you were wrong.”
“I once believed that. But I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I dip my head lower, those pink lips too tempting to stay away. Her lips part and I’m so close to getting what I’ve craved ever since she left.
“Cassie,” an annoying male voice calls out.
I quickly step back and watch her emotions shut down. “Your boyfriend’s calling.”
