Page 52 of Restored Dreams

Chopper’s forehead furrows as he ponders what I’ve said for a second. His eyes jump to mine, filled with their own well of pain.

“You must hate me,” he chokes on the quiet statement. I circle the island instantly, reaching for his face and cupping it gently between my hands.

“I’ve told you before that I love you, and I don’t say those words lightly. You are part of me by the nature of being my sister’s son. I do not, nor have I ever, held what they did against you. Like I said—forgive. Bitterness can eat you up if you let it, honey. I’ve seen it in so many people. It hurts no one other than the person who bears the bitterness, and I…I just don’t live my life like that.”

Chopper nods within my clasp, and I lean forward to kiss his forehead despite his manly size.

“You’ll need to forgive her as well,” I offer. “If you resent Lauren…her leaving you, her death before you could see her…it will only eat at you, and Lauren wins a victory she does not deserve.”

Chopper tips his head again, his eyes closing at my words. A tear slips from the corner, and my thumb is quick to brush it aside.

“I just wanted to know why.”

“Some questions we will never have answers for. Call it destiny or fate or a sign. It just is what it is, and we can dwell, or we can move on. You only need to live your life, honey, and not worry or wonder about the reasons behind others.”

Chopper’s eyes remain closed, but another tear leaks out. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around him and pull him against me. He doesn’t embrace me back at first, and that’s okay. But he needs my comfort, so he slowly raises his arms and encircles my waist. He shudders in my arms.

I can’t see Brut because he’s behind me. I have no idea how he feels about what I’ve said or how I’m acting toward his son, but at this moment, I feel a young man hurting, and that’s all I’m aware of until a hand comes to my lower back and I sense Brut beside me. I peek around Chopper’s head to see Brut’s hand cupping the back of his son, stroking through his hair in a soothing manner.

While I don’t want to let go, I know that Brut needs in, and Chopper needs his father. I slide back enough for Brut to hold the majority of his son with an arm around his shoulder. He tugs, and Chopper falls to the side, collapsing into this father’s chest with his head. I release Chopper, allowing Brut to take over as his son tugs at his dad’s tee, willing away the tears but unable to tamper a sob or two.

Normally, I’d expect a hug between two men to be awkward—one between a father and his grown son potentially strained—but Brut is holding his son like he’s had a lifetime of embracing this boy, no matter the age. He kisses the top of his head without shyness or hesitancy.

“I love you,” he mutters to his child, and my heart breaks all over again from the tenderness and sincerity. “We’ll get through this.” The collective we shows Brut’s solidarity with his son, and I sense this statement is one Brut’s said too often in his life. He’s gotten through so many things, but I understand at some point, you wish for more than merely getting by.

I watch in wonder at the display of affection before me, still shattered by the love of father and son, and children I’ve never had, but also overwhelmed with the rightness of Brut and Chopper, and the fact they need one another. Brut turns his head to rest against his boy’s and looks at me.

“Thank you,” he mouths. I sense Brut feels he owes me, and I want to remind him he owes me nothing. Witnessing him with Chopper puts everything into perspective for me. Life has happened as it should.

29

Funerals aren’t supposed to be sexy

[Brut]

It’s been two days of hell. Lauren made Chopper the executor to her estate. What a crock. Does she even own anything? This news enlightens us that he’s therefore responsible for her funeral. I’d like to find a cardboard box and set her out to sea, but I keep my comments to myself. Instead, I go with Chopper to the Cochran Funeral home in Sun Valley. Lily joins us.

Chopper seems to be relying heavily on Lily for some reason, but after the other night in her bakery kitchen, I see the connection between her and my son is strong.

“I love you,” she easily told him. As if the words were so simple. As if he were her child.

I find strange relief in Lily’s presence although we keep our distance. Without speaking, we both agree the focus needs to be on Chopper. He needs our support in any manner to get through this bizarre turn of events.

Chopper has the awful experience of picking out a coffin but declines decisions about the service. Crystal has been rather open in explaining Lauren had few friends, and she doesn’t suspect the funeral will be large. Chopper’s agreed to an open casket viewing for a half-hour with a brief prayer service followed by a short funeral procession to the closest cemetery. Whatever her reasons were to go to Sun Valley, Lauren will rest here eternally.

I’m rather proud of Chopper. He’s acting like an adult while I sense the child inside him. He’s freaked out by his decisions but keeps his calm. He doesn’t understand why he has this responsibility from someone who never wanted him. If she wasn’t already dead, I’d kill Lauren and pay whatever consequences.

The morning of the funeral, Hank drives Midge, Chopper, and me to the funeral home. They decided to attend as moral support. Knowing our whole past, Hank understands this is a crazy situation, one I still don’t fully have my head wrapped around. He’s turning into a good brother; not like he wasn’t before, but he’s stepping it up with Midge by his side.

This will be the first time Chopper has ever seen his mother, and his nerves show in how he jiggles his knee in the back seat next to me. I’m tempted to tap him, to make him stop like I’ve had to do during parent-teacher conferences or when I was once called into the principal’s office, but I don’t dare touch him today. Let him have his anxious moment. I’m scared out of my mind, as well. I haven’t seen Lauren in twenty-two years either. This isn’t exactly how I pictured seeing her again.

When we arrive at the funeral home, I feel strangely numb as though I’m doing something I don’t want to do but have to. I have no desire to attend a service commemorating the end of a person’s life. I was able to find my suit still fits although I’m certain it’s outdated. Chopper and I agreed he didn’t need a suit if he didn’t want one, so he wore a black button-down with black jeans and his heavy boots. I’m fidgeting with the buttons on my coat as we approach the front doors.

As we enter, everything hits me when I see Lily. She’s dressed in a shapely black dress, cutting just above her knees with short cap sleeves over her shoulders. Her neck is exposed, and my mouth waters to kiss her at the juncture I know will turn her to putty. It’s inappropriate, but she looks amazing and even offers a weak smile when she sees me. Then her attention shifts to Chopper who walks into her open arms.

Like the night at the bakery, I want to hold them both. The other night, I held off on touching Lily other than a hand on her back, signaling my presence, but my body hummed to envelop them collectively. Eventually, Lily relinquished Chopper to me. Today, I want to wrap them in my arms and get us the hell out of here. Instead, I step forward when Chopper steps out of her embrace.

“Lily.” I address her too formally as I choke on the second half of her nickname, swallowing it back. Hank knows I spent my vacation week with Lily. He also knows we fought and have come to an unspoken truce during all that’s happened for the sake of Chopper. Still he wastes no time intercepting her.