“I’m trying to be serious,” I stated. “I’m completely confused.”
Brandt nodded up and down and kept his eyes trained on me while he gave thought to my admissions. “Wow,” he began before he paused.
I didn’t feel hopeful I’d get shit out of him that helped in any way if all he had waswow.
He stared past me for a moment before returning his gaze. “Let me ask you something,” he said. He paused again and narrowed his eyes as he studied me some more. “Okay, listen up, dude. What were your plans that day after you read the letter? What were you going to say to Cooper?” he asked. I was about to reply when his eyes suddenly saucered. “Wait! Wait! Don’t answer yet. Hang on to that question, man. Answer this one instead. What would you guys be doing today if Cooper had not died that day?”
We studied each other as the question hung like a dark cloud in the bar. Annie Lennox was singing and asking the questionwhyin the background as the eighties-filled jukebox blared.
“I think I’d be with him,” I confessed. “I wanted to tell him I loved him the same way he loved me.”
Tears sprung from Brandt’s eyes as I revealed a truth I’d kept hidden inside for ten years. “Oh fuck, Mike. God, that’s heartbreaking, dude, and I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “And now he’s dead.” He reached for a napkin and wiped his eyes. “What now?”
I didn’t know the answer to that question. All I could do was shake my head. “I just don’t know. Besides, whatcanI do now?”
CHAPTER FOUR: Mike
Ten Years ago
Having a summer job killed my social life. I wanted to hang out with my girlfriend and Cooper, but earning money to help pay for college was a necessity. Because my father died a year ago, mom and I were careful with the life insurance settlement because I didn’t want Mom to struggle putting me through college and then end up broke when I finished, so most of the summer after high school graduation was spent bagging groceries and stocking shelves.
I turned the corner of aisle four near the checkout stands when I spotted my mother talking with Lee, my manager, near the front office. She hadn’t told me she’d be shopping so I was surprised to see her. Stress contorted her face and I could tell from thirty feet away she’d been crying. Lee looked my way and motioned his eyes toward me, alerting Mom that I was incoming.
“Mom?” I questioned after hurrying over.
Her eyes glistened with tears immediately.
A kick to my gut made me pause. This wasn’t a visit for groceries. I thought of my grandfather, my only other living relative. “Is everything okay, Mom? Is Grandpa okay?”
Lee ushered us toward the office door and out of the pathway of departing customers. “You need to go with your mother, Mike. We’ll get coverage for you,” he said, his sad eyes returning to Mom.
“M-mom?” I stuttered. “What’s happening? Why are you here?”
My mother couldn’t focus on my face or my questions.
“Okay, you’re sorta freaking me out here,” I stated, glancing around to see if any other employees had noticed my mom crying near the office.
“Let’s go out to the car, honey,” she said hoarsely, clearing her throat of whatever had her so upset.
“Just tell me here,” I argued.
Lee placed his hand on my shoulder. “Go with your mother, son,” he insisted.
“Please?” Mom asked.
I took off my apron and laid it on the counter of an unoccupied lane. Mom began walking toward the exit. “Take all the time you need, Mike,” my boss added as I turned to follow my mother to the parking lot. Her car was right in front of the store, parked in a fire zone. This couldn’t be good.
Mom was already in the car when I opened the door and found her sobbing. She reached for my hand and held it while she tried to calm herself. My mother was not a dramatic sort of woman by any means so I knew the news was bad. “What is it?” I whispered.
“Honey,” she began. Her tone sent an instant warning to my heart. I remembered this voice from thirteen months earlier when my dad was killed in a car accident. “I need to share some awful news,” she began. She stifled a sob, hiccupping and squeezing my hand.
Seconds felt like hours, days even, as I sat there begging the universe to reverse whatever she was about to tell me. “You’re scaring me.”
“I know, honey, and I’m sorry. Maybe we should drive home first, huh?” she offered.
“No!” I spoke too loudly. “Just tell me.”
Mom turned away and stared through the front windshield as Mrs. Gomez wheeled her groceries out the front door near the Subway sandwich joint. Her dog, Mr. Ruffles, was sitting in the cart as usual. Mrs. Gomez went nowhere without her yappy Pomeranian sidekick.
