Page 53 of Perfect Tragedy
12
After all this time, the Walker’s house still looks the same. It seems that updating things wasn’t a top priority of Virginia Walker. I hadn’t been inside their house too often, Blake had always preferred to come to ours, but the nostalgia still hits hard.
The house is full of people and the smell of the various casseroles offered in condolences is overwhelming. Dad and Jack are both here and I place the pie I made on the table to join all the other gifts. Blake and Mandy will have food for days. I wonder how long they’re both staying.
Looking around I see Blake has changed his clothes. No longer in his dress blues he’s wearing jeans and a blue button down rolled up at the sleeves. Ink peeks out under a sleeve of one of his arms making me curious about the tattoos he’s obviously gotten.
He’s speaking with Mrs. Gilderoy, one of our teachers from grade school. She’s hanging onto his arm and he’s smiling softly at her and nodding his head. A feeling of affection runs through me and I smile at the sight despite the circumstances surrounding it.
Various individuals come and talk to Jack too and I stand by listening and nodding and smiling when necessary, the whole time aware of where Blake is in the room, who he’s speaking to and what he’s doing. At one point Jack and I are alone and he catches me watching Blake as he steps outside. I consider going after him but I’m sure he could use a moment alone.
“Have you spoken to him yet?” Jack asks and I was so involved in my thoughts it makes me jerk a little and then I laugh at my jumpiness.
“Briefly. It, uh, it didn’t go well.”
“I can imagine it didn’t.”
I turn and look at Jack full on, we’ve never spoken about Blake directly over the years other than one time we were both drunk and I over-shared. Jack was smart enough to know there was a reason for why I never wanted contact with Blake over the years. He always managed to stay independent in whatever his opinion is, but never asked, pushed, or offered much information. Now that I really think about it I don’t know why I never found that strange. I’m sure it was because I was so desperate to not know anything about Blake at all that I didn’t think anything about it. Just thankful my wishes were respected. But time changes things.
“What do you know?” I boldly ask him.
“Aside from the night you went on and on about loving him and a pregnant Hailey?”
I cringe even after all this time. “Yes."
“Besides the fact that after your graduation things changed? That Blake asked me for your new phone number and email address so many times that we actually came to blows over it one night when we’d both had too much to drink?”
“What? You did?” My eyes widen at the new information.
“You specifically asked that it not be shared with anyone, even Blake. I couldn’t and wouldn’t go against your wishes. I knew there was a reason, deeper than your mumbled drunken confession.”
“Yet you never asked for details or the reason for my actions?”
“I’m not stupid, Sienna. I knew the reason.”
“Explain,” I demand after looking around to make sure we’re still alone. He takes my arm and pulls me to a couple chairs in a corner so we can speak privately. Our dad is involved in various conversations around the room and somehow Jack manages to keep secure the privacy we need in a room full of people. My brother really has grown up.
“I have eyes, you know. I knew you had feelings for Blake over the years. There were times it was obvious and times it wasn’t, but I knew the feelings always remained.”
“You never said anything.”
“No. Not to you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I made my feelings about Blake ever pursuing anything with you abundantly clear.”
“Wh-wh-what?” I stutter in shock and surprise. I can feel my mouth hanging open but am unable to do anything but stare at him dumbfounded.
“He was my best friend, Sienna. You are my sister. The thought of, well, I wasn’t a fan. I told him you were off limits and out of respect and concern for our friendship, he conformed to my wishes. Even though I know it was hard for him at times.”
“Hard for him? What do you mean?”
“He had feelings for you too.”
“What?” I practically screech and people’s heads swing in our direction out of curiosity.
“Shh,” he says and I give him a dirty look.
