After It's Over (5 page)

Picking up Drew is more important than arguing with Ben. Besides, it’s so hard to win an argument with him that you’d think he was the lawyer in this marriage.

“Why is he coming here? It’s not like you two are close.”

Spoken like an only child.

“He’s my brother. Does he need a reason to visit?” Paige yanked on a pair of jeans. She had to inhale to get them to button.

I really need to hit the gym more and bake fewer cookies.

“I don’t know. Half the time I forget you even have a brother. It’s not like he came to the wedding or has visited in the last year since we got married.”

Ben’s anti-social attitude irked Paige. In the time they’d been together she’d quit her job, sold her house and moved almost a thousand miles away from where she grew up.

All of those sacrifices for him and he gives me a hard time about my family. It’s not like he’s close to his.

“My brother didn’t come to the wedding because we eloped after dating for two weeks.” Paige pulled on a hoodie and rummaged through a drawer for clean socks.

“Weddings are overrated,” Ben said.

“You can say that because you had a huge one the first time around. I, on the other hand, never got to have a wedding because you wouldn’t let me have one!”

Not that I’m bitter. That should have been a flashing neon sign that you weren’t a good guy.

“If we’d had one, my brother would have been there and walked me down the aisle,” she ranted.

“Are we really fighting again about the wedding we didn’t have?” He rolled his eyes at her.

Paige clenched her teeth together. “I’m just saying that you would have met my family if we’d had one.”

“What family? Your parents killed each other and you have one brother.” Ben dismissively waved his toothbrush as if her parents had just gone on vacation rather than died a tragic death.

Paige’s mouth dropped open. “You are the most insensitive human being I have ever known.”

“What? I thought you were over all that.” He spit out his toothpaste and reached for the mouthwash. He frowned. “You’re over it, right?”

She came to an abrupt halt. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

Ben’s question conjured up the memory of Paige’s parents’ funeral. There were two coffins, laid out side by side; her father’s was draped with the American flag because he’d served in the Marines as a young man. Father John, their priest, gave a speech she never heard a word of; it was all she could do that day to breathe.

The grief is still as fresh as the day they were buried.

Paige grunted at her husband, grabbed her shoes, and stormed out of the bedroom. She would have slammed the door, but she was sure the girls were still asleep.

They don’t need to be woken up by the angry sound of another fight between their dad and me.

She stormed down the stairs to the kitchen.
Where are my keys?
Paige paused. The keys to Ben’s car sat on the kitchen table. She picked them up and held them for a moment.

He insisted we trade my sports car for a mini-van. Of course, he kept his Jeep.
I hate that mini-van almost as much as I hate those dishes.

Paige grabbed her purse and hurried out to the garage. She was backing out of the driveway when the front door flew open and Ben stepped out onto the porch.

“Hey! Give me back my car!”

Rolling down the window, Paige yelled back, “No!”

“What about my tee-time?”

“Why don’t you spend the day with
your
daughters and the mini-van instead?”

“Oh, come on!” Ben threw his hands up in the air and kicked the open door.

With a smirk, Paige slammed the car into first gear and lurched down the street. She couldn’t drive a manual transmission, but she didn’t care. Ben’s facial expression made up for a little bit of the misery he’d brought her.

CHAPTER FIVE

Paige’s brother, Drew, stood on the curb in the passenger pick up zone. He wore faded blue jeans that were at least one size too big, his flannel shirt was only half buttoned, and he sported several days of worth of facial hair. His dark hair encroached on the sides of his face; it only exacerbated how pale and gaunt he looked.

He looks like a psycho lumberjack who hasn’t showered in a month.

Drew gave a half-hearted wave as she approached. Paige tried to act nonchalant as the car jerked to a halt several feet from the curb.

He raised an eyebrow. “You can’t drive a stick.” 

“Well, hello to you too, brother.” Paige forced a smile.

He looks even worse up close.
What is that smell? Oh geez, it’s him. When was the last time he showered?

Drew opened the car door and threw his carry-on in the back seat. Paige covered her nose as he climbed in.

“When was the last time you showered? You look like you’ve been on a month-long bender.”

“Well…I…” He fastened his seat belt and stared out the window. “I guess I forgot to shower yesterday.”

“How exactly do you forget to shower?”

The smell of body odor and stale cigarettes was overwhelming. Paige rolled down the window and gulped in the fresh air.

“It’s been a really rough week. That’s how.” Drew ran a hand through his overgrown hair. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

It’s not like him to look so disheveled. He’s thinner too. What happened to the Cross Fit nut I know and love?

“You want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Well then, how’s wifey doing? Didn’t Sheila just open a new hair salon?”

“Yeah, she did.” Drew rubbed his head. “How’s the whole moving to Utah and marrying a guy you barely knew working out?” he replied.

Paige grimaced. “Oh, just peachy. He’s a real Prince Charming.”

“I tried to warn you. I told you—”

“I know, I know! The relationship moved too fast. That should have been a red flag.” Paige shot Drew a look that said this was not the time to say I told you so.

No one knows better than me that I made a mistake.

“You might want to get this thing in gear and go. There’s a long line of cars waiting to pick up,” Drew said, looking over his shoulder.

“Right.” Paige bit her lip.
Clutch in and ease off the gas.

Ben had tried to teach her how to drive a manual transmission, but his lesson consisted of taking her on the freeway during rush hour traffic and yelling ‘that a million other women could drive a stick shift, so what was her problem’.

You are my problem, Ben. That’s what I should have said.

She let the clutch out, but it was too soon and the car died as she pulled away from the curb.

I shouldn’t have taken this stupid thing.

Drew let out a groan. “Let me drive.”

“No, I can do this.”

An angry overweight, bald man in a Corvette tried to maneuver around them. His car nearly hit the Jeep as he squeaked passed them. He honked and waved his middle finger. Paige smacked the steering wheel and looked at her brother who gave her an annoying I-told-you-so grin.

“Fine, you drive,” Paige conceded.

“Why are you driving this car anyway?” Drew asked.

“To piss my husband off.”

They quickly got out of the car and traded seats. He fastened his seatbelt and pushed the seat back in order to accommodate his long legs.

“Wow. How very passive aggressive of you.” Drew scratched the stubble on his chin. “Where to?”

Great. I’m turning into my mother. I wonder how that’s going to play out.

Paige strummed her fingers on the ledge below the passenger window.

“Anywhere, but my house.”

“Okay.” Drew checked his watch.

What’s he looking at his watch for? And why is he here? Let’s ease into the third degree. He looks jumpy.

“You hungry?” Paige asked.

“Starving.”

“Then let’s head into Salt Lake. Just follow the signs up ahead.”

“How weird is it that a nice Catholic girl like you ended up in Utah?”

“I’m a lapsed Catholic, and it’s not so weird. I kind of like it here.”

I would like it a whole lot more if I had moved here with Kade…

***

Due to the early hour, their choices for breakfast were limited. They opted for greasy hash browns and cardboard pancakes at a chain restaurant. Paige slid across the plastic bench seat; her jeans made a squeaking sound as she moved. Drew sat down on the other side of the table. She noted that he was careful to avoid eye contact.

He barely said a word the whole way here. Something is clearly wrong.

Her brother picked up a stained menu and studied it with the same intensity he’d given the bar exam. Paige took a sip of water from the glass the waitress had set in front of her. She wrinkled her nose and forced herself to swallow.

“Crappy water?” Drew asked.

“Hard water takes some getting used to. I miss Washington water,” Paige replied.

“Well, you can always come home, and we can start a practice together. You’d be able to drink all the soft water you can handle.”

“Practice? What happened to Mr. Assistant District Attorney?”

“I uh…”

Paige reached out and gently took the menu from his hands.

“What’s going on?”

“I got fired two days ago, which just happened to be the same day that Sheila had me served with divorce papers.” Drew stared out the window. “She waited until after I gave her the money to open that salon.”

She studied her brother’s face. His skin had a pink tint, his eyes were heavy-lidded, and he was at least fifteen pounds lighter than he should be.

“You’ve been drinking again.”

“Among other things.” His knee shook so hard it hit the table and scattered their silverware. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Paige carefully arranged the silverware back to where it had been placed by the waitress and gave him the biggest smile she could muster.

“So, you lost your job, your wife—”

“She took most of the money.”

“Okay, so you’ve lost your job, wife, money and you’ve been hitting the sauce. Just think of what great material this is for a country song.” She forced a laugh.

Better to laugh than to cry. That’s what Mom always used to say.

“Yeah, it’s Top 40 material for sure.” Drew’s face was glum as he chewed on a straw.

“It could be worse.”

Okay, trying to make him laugh didn’t work, so how about putting things in perspective.

“I don’t really see how.”

“You could have gangrene on your face and be living under the Tacoma Narrows Bridge,” Paige nodded, as if to encourage her brother to laugh at the absurdity of her words.

“They fenced that area off. No one’s living there anymore.”

“No laugh, huh?”

I’m out of ideas on how to make this situation any better.

Drew shrugged and looked at the table. He ran his finger along a crack in the plastic.

“Sheila slept with my best friend.”

Paige didn’t mean to gasp; the noise escaped before she could stop it. Drew looked up and their eyes met.
He looks so defeated.
She reached across the table and took his hand. At that moment, their waitress appeared with her order pad again. Paige waved her off.

“I’m sorry, Drew. I really am.”

Her brother pulled his hand back. He folded his arms and gave her a knowing look.

“Go ahead, say it.”

“Say what?” She looked away and tried to pretend she didn’t know where the conversation was headed.

“That you always hated Sheila.”

“Okay, so I wasn’t her biggest fan.” Paige inhaled sharply. “But it’s not like I chose any better. I never should have left…” She stared at the table as her cheeks turned pink. Drew knew exactly whom it was that she shouldn’t have left.

“Speaking of the person who shall not be named, Sheila got the sheriff’s office to serve me the divorce papers.”

Drew’s words hung in the air as Paige digested their meaning.

“You saw him, didn’t you?” she asked.

Did he mention me? Is he married yet? Oh, don’t think about Kade. This is just not the time.

“Yeah, I was caught off guard. I’ve seen him a few times at the courthouse, but we never said more than two words to each other. In my mind, he was still your happy-go-lucky high school boyfriend, but that was definitely not the guy who showed up.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s grumpy. Very grumpy. There’s no joy to be had around him. When was the last time you saw him?”

Paige cleared her throat. She pictured the last time she saw Kade. “I saw him after things ended with Matt.”

“How come you never said anything?”

“Because he stood me up. We had a date, and he just never showed up.”

“That doesn’t sound like him. If he didn’t show, there must have been a reason,” Drew said.

Paige shrugged. “I never thought he’d stand me up.”

The waitress returned with an irritated look. She chewed her gum, snapped a bubble and glared at them.

“Are you folks
finally
ready to order?”

“Uh, yeah,” Drew said. He picked up a menu and quickly scanned it.

“Bacon and eggs, please.”

The waitress’s expression said that she couldn’t believe she’d waited for such a simple order. She took Drew’s menu and looked at Paige with a raised eyebrow.

“Toast and black coffee, please.”

“Fine. Be back soon with your order.”

When the waitress was gone, Drew looked at his sister.

“I hope she doesn’t spit in our food.”

Paige shrugged. “So, what’re you going to do about—”

“My career? My drinking? My divorce? Pick a problem.” His voice was curt; he rubbed his eyes.

“Okay,” Paige drew a deep breath. “What can I do to help?”

“Can you change the past? Or at least make the guilt go away?”

“Guilt?”

What on earth does he have to feel guilty about? I’m the one that practically killed our parents.
Don’t go there, Paige.
Some memories are better left repressed.

“Yes, for years I’ve been carrying around so much guilt that I can’t sleep at night. If I hadn’t gone clear across the country to college, it wouldn’t have happened. I should have stayed closer to home. If I had been there, they wouldn’t be dead.”

Drew’s eyes were filled with tears. He cleared his throat and looked away. Her heart broke as he casually tried to wipe the tears away with the back of his hand.

“It’s not your fault, Drew. If anyone is to blame…”

Paige didn’t finish her thought. She couldn’t bring herself to. She had survived the tragedy by not looking back—she almost never thought about that day.
Focus on something else.

“When did you start drinking?” As soon as the question came out, she realized she didn’t want to know when her brother’s addiction began.

“The day after they died.” Drew coughed. “I’ve been drinking for a very long time.” His voice cracked with emotion and he hung his head.

“I didn’t know. If I had known, I would have done something.”

But I did know something was wrong. I knew he couldn’t sleep. Why didn’t I do something? Because I could barely handle my own pain.

Against her own better judgment, her mind went back to the scene in her parents’ bedroom after their deaths. The police had taped off the room, but left the door open. The chalk outlines on the floor indicated where each of them had fallen. The walls were sprayed in blood; the carpet was soaked.

There was no cleaning any of it.

“We’ll get you some help,” Paige said quietly.

“That’s why I’m here. There’s a rehab a couple hours south of Salt Lake. I’ve got an appointment to check myself in.”

Paige wiped her eyes and nodded. “Okay, so we’ll get you some lousy pancakes, and head down south.”

Good. There’s a plan. I can handle anything as long as there’s a plan.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?” Paige gulped hard.

When are things going to get better? How do I make them better?

“It’s not going to be like it was with Dad. I’m going to get better,” Drew said. He took her hand and squeezed it hard.

She nodded. “Right, not like Dad.”

Their meal passed in silence. Paige opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t know where to start. They’d never fully discussed the events that led to the death of their parents. She imagined Drew had questions about that night and had waited for him to ask, but he never did. As the years passed, she figured her brother didn’t want to know any more than the police had told him. So she shut the door on the memories and didn’t look back. Now she wondered if that wasn’t the biggest mistake of all.