Page 59 of My Fearless Fake Fling

“Yeah,” he replied indignantly. And I never wanted to punch somebody so badly in my life.

Len remained uncharacteristically quiet behind me.

“What was his brother’s name?” Brian asked.

“Leo.” I answered quickly. I’d never forget that name. The man had practically ruined my life.

“You gonna tell her, or should I?” He directed the question to Len. But then he didn’t give Len the chance to speak. “How aboutLennon‘Leo’ McCartney?”

Wait—no. That wasn’t possible. I stepped away from Len, off to the side so I had enough space between me and both men.

But I did turn to Len. “Tell him he’s wrong. You weren’t the one who made threats against my life. Who got me fired from my job… who made me have to move two and a half hours away from my family to start over.Please,” I begged. “Tell him he’s wrong.”

“He’s not wrong,” Len whispered.

At the same time, Brian said, “I looked him up.”

This could not be happening. I gripped my hair and pulled the sides. I would not cry… I would not cry… I would not—shoot. Those stupid tears began to leak from my eyes.

“You love me, Len,” I said. “You told me you love me. How—why—how?”

“Don’t be dim, Kams,” said Brian. “Of course he doesn’t love you. This is just some scheme to hurt you again.”

“Shut your mouth,” Len warned Brian. “You don’t know what the hel—kyou’re talking about.” Len took a step forward, like he didn’t know if he wanted to punch Brian or reach for me.

I took my self out of the equation by turning to run. Yup. I ran, first to the truck to get my purse and the bag with the burgers because lying Len didn’t deserve buffalo burgers, and then to my car.

No one could ever accuse me of being a peeler-outer from parking lots. Today I peeled out. My tires squealed and my head hit the ceiling of the car when I hit the street too fast and bounced hard.

Note to self: get shocks and struts checked.

What could’ve been his motive? Why after all this time would he come at me again? And to get me to do all the things I was afraid to do. It didn’t make sense. At all.

I swiped at my eyes. Then I drove to the only place I knew no one would look for me. Two and a half hours in the car, not back to my childhood home. Seeing my parents’ disappointed faces when I told them how Len had lied to us all, when I let them know their only daughter had not yet discovered the cure for stupid as she’d been trying these past few years to do—it wasn’t something I could deal with now.

Oh, and I angry ate the heck out of those burgers and fried mushrooms and cheese curds over the course of that drive. Down to the very last bite. Another bad decision. The food sat like a greasy lead weight in the pit of my stomach. But we bought it, I didn’t want to waste it. There were starving kids in the world who would’ve been happy to get my Big Bill’s.

Once I reached my fair old city, I turned down a street opposite of the way I’d go to see my family. An old road, bumpy and cracked—what the city called deteriorating—edges. I drove along the chain-link fence until I hit the wrought-iron gate. Ashwood Cemetery.

It had been years since I’d last stepped foot on this sacred ground. The mound of dirt covering my brother had been fresh, no grass. I never felt like I deserved to be here, and anyway, coming back was just too hard. But I needed my brother today.

Funny, the memories of that day, the twists and turns to get to him came to me as if I drove this route twice a week. My parents had picked Ashwood not only for the beauty. Especially in the fall when all the ash trees turn shades of purple, red, yellow, and green. Though, that happened less now since the beetles hit, and not of the British Invasion variety.

The newer, younger trees were a variety called Blue ash and, from what Mom said, just kind of turn a muddy yellow baby poop color. My brother deserved better than baby poop. But my brother rested in a spot very close to my grandparents. So he always had company. I never thought that part mattered. To my mom, it mattered.

I pulled over to the shoulder of the narrow road and turned off the engine. He was maybe twenty headstones away from the road. Being summer, the grass crunched underfoot and the space smelled of dirt and sunshine.

“Evening, Grandma. Grandpa,” I said as I passed each headstone. I’d never been close with either of them, seeing as they’d died when I was quite young, which meant I didn’t feel the need to converse.

Now when I reached my brother’s stone, I stopped and read the words.Loving Son and Brother. Loyal Friend. Brave Soldier. Hero.He’d been all that and so much more. His whole short life.

“Hey, bro.” Not sure what else to say, I sat down and folded my hands in my lap, staring down at his name. Then I took in a big breath. “I screwed up again. Did you know Harrison’s brother, Leo, his first name is actually Lennon?” Then it hit me, Harrison. George Harrison. The Beatles. How could I have not put that together sooner? “And I slept with him. But it gets so much worse. I fell in love with him. Right, you’re probably thinking, ‘What’s so bad about falling in love?’ It’s Leo. Well, I mean, I fell in love with him as Len. But Mom had to have told you all the stuff he pulled after you and Harrison died. The man made my life absolutely miserable. And for some reason, he found me and did everything he could to make it not miserable… but I don’t know why? What could he be planning?”

The wind picked up to rustle my hair and I kind of imagined that was my brother rumpling the top of my head. I could also hear the hum of a car coming from the other side of the cemetery.

“Brian’s the one who told me. Yeah, we broke up because I stopped being fun. Then once I started having fun again, because of Len, he’s up in my business again. But, dude, he cheated on me. Brian, not Len. And I thought he was supposed to be in South America celebrating his engagement to the chick he cheated with, but no—there he was on Len’s door step. I don’t get it. I don’t get men.

“So I’m here. I need you to enlighten me. Help me understand what I’m supposed to do because I’m lost. I miss you so darn much. And I’m scared. Sad. Confused. Ugh…” Maybe coming here had been a mistake. I rubbed my hands over my face, then rested them on the crown of my head.

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