Page 63 of When I Come Back
By the time I get to my car, it’s a minute past eight. I start the car then reach over to pull my phone from my purse to text Ripley when I see a new text from Cary.
12/11 7:56 p.m.
Cary:You think Ripley will show me the ropes at the distillery when I get back? I’venever had so many people compliment a bourbon we carry. Also I hope you know howhard it is to text you only once a day… I love you, Thea. 4 days
Read 8:02 p.m.
The message makes me laugh. The ‘I love you’ brings a smile to my face for the first time since he left. I still don’t text him back. I don’t want to distract him while he’s working, and I need to go check on Brooks anyway. But I tell myself I’ll respond to the next text he sends. Doesn’t matter if it’s one of his daily thoughts he wants to share or him telling me he misses me, I’ll answer either way.
Knowing I’ve made this decision settles something in my chest as I pull away from Saint Stephen’s. It isn’t huge, it’s only a text message, but it’s the first step in letting him back into my heart.
I pull into the driveway of Hazel and Owen’s home after going past Brooks’ apartment and not finding him there. There are lights on in the house, so the fear that he’s gone completely AWOL again eases. I’m still hesitant about what I might find inside, but at least I’m not going to be worrying all night aboutwherehe is.
Brooks has always been a wildcard, but recently, it’s gotten a bit out of hand. He isn’t talking to any of us, and he keeps disappearing then reappearing with fresh cuts and bruises. Before Hazel and Owen died, he’d do this every once in a while, sans the cuts and bruises, but he’d always turn up a couple days later and apologize for the disappearing act. We don’t seem to be getting apologies now.
I knock on the door, waiting impatiently for him to answer. After ten seconds of silence, I knock again. This time, he comes barreling to the door so quickly, I hear his heavy footsteps from outside. The door flies open, and he looks like he is about to yell, but his face drops when he sees me.
I put my hands up in surrender. “It’s just me. Jesus,” I say pushing past him and into the house.
He shuts the door behind me then runs a hand over his buzzed hair. “Sorry, Thea. Some guy pushing solar shit came by earlier, and I just assumed it was him again.”
“No worries,” I say, looking around the living room noting all the empty beer bottles. “So, this is what you’ve been doing?”
He huffs and makes his way to the couch before dropping down onto it, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his hoodie pocket. “Did you come here to lecture me, Thea?”
I put my purse down on the bar then look back at him. “Would that help? Because you missed the memorial. You’ve got Margot asking questions. You didn’t even say goodbye to Cary before he left. And now I find you… surrounded by beer bottles with more bruises on your face than the last time I saw you.”
He pulls the cigarette he was about to light away from his face, his brows scrunching as he says, “Margot is asking questions about me? Why?”
Men truly are oblivious.
I walk into the living room, sitting down on the couch opposite him. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because she had to bandage up wounds that you refuse to talk about, and then you apparently neglected to answer her texts? She said she was trying to check on you and make sure your face was healing okay.”
He shakes his head, bringing the cigarette back to his lips and lighting it.
“You know your mom hated that you smoke, and now you’re doing it in her house?”
He takes a deep inhale before looking over at me. He exhales the smoke then says, “Not like she can stop me now that she’s dead.” His words are harsh, bringing tension to the room. Along with the fear that this is worse than I thought.
“Cool. Good talk, Brooks.” I stand from my seat and start to leave the living room but stop short to say one last thing. “Listen, either tell us what’s going on with you, or figure out how to get your shit together on your own. You’re like a fucking bomb ready to go off, and I can’t deal with another explosion in my life.”
He doesn’t respond, not that I’m surprised. As I’m grabbing my purse from the kitchen bar, I see a stack of papers sitting on the end of the counter. They’re similar to some of the documents Mr. Elsher gave me and Cary when we got the new ownership paperwork for RED.
“What are these?” I ask, shuffling through the documents as I wait for his answer.
“I don’t know. A bunch of shit Elsher gave to me when I signed whatever bullshit that got me the golden key to thishumble abode,” he says, never looking my way, focused on trying to blow smoke rings and probably wishing I’d just leave.
I move a couple more papers to the side when something catches my eye. It’s an envelope with mine and Cary’s name on it, another with Brooks’ name right underneath it.
“Brooks…” I start, shock creeping into my veins as I realize what I’m looking at.
“What?”
“There are letters here,” I state, all the emotion gone from my voice.
“What?” he asks again, but this time he’s less annoyed and more curious. He raises his head from the back of the couch. A split second later, he’s jumping up and coming toward me. “What the… I swear, Thea, I didn’t know these were here. I fucking swear.”
I nod my head, my eyes never leaving the envelope with Hazel’s handwriting staring back at me. After a moment of silence, he grabs the one with his name and disappears into whatever room he’s staying in, the door closing behind him.
