Beautifully Undone (The Beaumont Brothers #3) (8 page)

Melody

“It had to rain today,” Ash said. “Why does it always rain when there is a funeral?”

I shook my head as I stared at the stained glass window in the church. Of course, I couldn’t see the rain through the thick, colored panes, but I knew it was out there. Pounding to the ground, reminding us what a fucked up world we lived in where we couldn’t even mourn our loved ones in the comfort of a beautiful day without the sky opening up, reminding us just how vulnerable we really were. Or perhaps, as I liked to think, maybe the angels were crying along with us because my big brother had been taken from the world way before he was supposed to be.

I watched my mom bend over my brother’s broken body as he lay in the casket. My dad stood beside her. I was glad he was here. I could hear Mom’s sobs from where we sat in the pews.

“Teddy. My baby. Oh, Teddy, what are we going to do without you? I miss you already,” she cried. My dad took out a hanky from his back pocket and wiped his own eyes. He always had a hanky in his back pocket.

I hadn’t cried. Not when we went to identify his body. Not when we got home. Not today. I was just numb.

My mom turned away from the casket, and my dad ushered her out of the room.

I stood up. It was my turn. I was supposed to say goodbye. How the hell was I supposed to do that? Teddy was everything to me.

“Mel?” Asher grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “You okay?”             

I nodded. I think. Maybe I shook my head. It didn’t matter. There was no correct answer for what I was.

Numb.

I let go of Asher’s hand and slowly made my way to the casket. The body that lay inside, the shell of what was once my brother looked like one of those wax figures in a museum, surrounded by soft white silk. Why did they put dead people in white silk? Was that something my mother ordered? He couldn’t feel how soft it was, but he did look peaceful, except for the bruises on his face that you could still see through the makeup. How had he gotten those bruises? It almost looked as if he’d been beaten. They said he got them from the airbag deploying on impact. They would be cremating his body after the service was over before burying his ashes in the family plot. I knew from Nora exactly how they did it and I couldn’t fathom that happening to my brother. I touched his hand and it was hard, so unnatural. My legs wobbled, and as if they vanished from my body, I sank to the floor.

I felt arms surround me. “Mel, I know it’s hard. Come on, baby. It’s time to go.”

I had no ability to get up or command my body to move or make my mouth speak. Asher lifted me, and I went along. Every nerve in my body was void of all sensation.

I sat on the sofa at my mom’s house. Friends and neighbors brought food. Asher placed a glass of something golden brown in my hand and told me to drink. I didn’t know what was in it. I sniffed at it. It was some kind of alcohol that smelled like almonds.

“It’s Amaretto. Something to take the edge off,” he said. “I’ll grab you some food.”

I didn’t want any food, but I couldn’t get my mouth to form the word “no.”

A man stood by my mom. I overheard him say he worked with Ted and how sorry he was. He’d been the one to request that Ted stay the week to finalize the last-minute details for the deal they had made with some contractors. That’s why my brother had still been in the city. That’s why my brother had been at that spot when the truck collided into the side of Ted’s car, crushing him. That’s why my brother was dead. I hated that man.

I rolled over, scrunching my pillow under my head. But turning was the wrong thing to do since the bright morning sun filtered in right at the level of my eyes. I squinted. I couldn’t understand how the sun could shine and act so happy when the world surrounding me was shrouded in darkness. I’d wanted the sun yesterday when we’d had the service. I thought it would help, but seeing it now only made me angry.

It didn’t matter anymore what day it was, though I was semi-cognizant of time passing, of Ash coming over to talk to me, of Erica peeking her head in every now and then, bringing me tea or whatever. I don’t think I’d uttered a single syllable since the night at the morgue. Not even a whimper. I couldn’t cry. My brother was dead and I couldn’t cry.
I’m a horrible person
. What kind of person can’t cry when they lose someone they love?    

Asher

It had been over a week since Ted’s memorial, and Melody was still pretty much a robot. She only did something when someone told her to do it. Otherwise, all she did was sit and stare. I could not get through to her. No matter what I did, she just stared into empty space. I hated that I couldn’t penetrate that pretty head of hers. I’d even brought up the night we had sex and how fun it was, but it didn’t seem to faze her. Maybe she had enjoyed her night with Alex more than she had with me. And I hated him even more, considering he hadn’t even bothered to attend her brother’s funeral. I knew he would use Mel and never call her again.

“You finished here?” some muscle asked, pointing at the weight machine I stood in front of, staring into space.

My workout was just about over. I had one more set, but I looked at him and nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.” I walked toward the locker room for a shower.

After a week of observing Melody’s lethargic state of mind since Teddy’s funeral, I began to think of that letter my mom had written to me about my half-brothers. After I had taken a shower, I hopped on my bike and headed home. I ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, and hurried to my bookshelf. I pulled the letter out from the book I’d placed it in for safekeeping after Mel had given it back to me. I was sort of glad she’d rescued it from the trash after I’d left that day. I read the end of it again.

“Asher, please, I beg you. Don’t live your life as a lonely, bitter man. Find your brothers, Jackson and Brodie. You have to believe that they had nothing to do with the way your father treated you or me. Remember, he abandoned them the same way he deserted you.”

She’d spent most of her life avoiding talking about them, and now that she was gone, the subject loomed over me, festering like an infected wound. What would happen if I paid them a visit and introduced myself? Why was I resisting? I knew in my heart that they had nothing to do with my father’s desertion. They’d been kids, just like I had been. We were all innocent, and all products of the same asshole, except Jackson and Brodie carried the last name legitimately. I was the bastard. My mom would hit me upside the head if she ever heard me say that. She’d always told me she’d given me his name because I deserved it. What was wrong with Becket? I would have been just as happy with that last name, maybe even happier. But she said I was a part of another family and I had a right to have the last name of the man who’d helped create me. So she’d given me both—Becket and Beaumont.

So, I had two brothers. Teddy had always been like a brother to me, but now he was gone. Gone from both Melody’s and my life. Now that Teddy had been taken from us, and I was never to know the joys of what the future may have held for that relationship, I had to admit, I was a little curious about Jackson and Brodie. I wondered what I might have missed out on as a kid, having them in my life. What I might miss as an adult if I didn’t seek them out.

I had a plan.

I hurried across the hall to Mel’s apartment. I didn’t even bother to knock. I knew Erica was at work, and Melody would probably just ignore my pounding anyway. At least, that’s what had happened yesterday.

I opened the door, and there she was, sitting on the sofa. The TV was on, a rerun of That ‘70s Show. Mel, Teddy, and I had used to watch it every week when we were kids. I shut the door quietly then sauntered to the couch and sat beside her. She didn’t acknowledge me, not that I’d expected her to. She didn’t budge. Didn’t even blink.

Several minutes passed as the show blared on the screen.

“I miss Teddy.” She uttered it so softly it took me by surprise to hear her sweet voice again.

“Me, too.”

“I hardly ever saw him this past year, so it shouldn’t seem so bad, but I miss him now, knowing I’ll never see him again.”

I placed my hand on top of hers, and she turned into me, sobbing against my chest. I held her, tears filling my own eyes. Again. I had a feeling, knowing the way Melody held things in, that this was probably the first time she’d shed any tears for her brother. I was glad I could be with her when she did. She stopped crying and eased back, swiping her hands over her eyes.

“This is the first time I’ve cried since he died.”

“And I’m sure it won’t be the last.” I smiled. “It shouldn’t be. You need to cry. It’s part of the healing process. That’s what they say anyway. You’re hurting. You feel sorrow. You’re entitled to shed a few tears. Crying is your body’s way of releasing some of that sorrow.”

“You’re right. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I kept blaming myself for his death. Thinking that if I’d known he was still in the city, I could have prevented it.”

“How, Mel? How would you have prevented it? You can’t think that way. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“I hate that man.”

“What man?”

“The man who Ted worked for.”

I nodded. I understood that hatred. I was feeling the same way about him. A man I didn’t even know. “You know it wasn’t really his fault either,” I supplied, knowing that was the correct response, though I didn’t believe its validity.

“I hate the boy who crashed into him, too,” she added. “But I know he’s young and going to jail for a while. Plus, he’ll have to live with his guilt. It’s just easier to hate the man who Ted worked for because he started the chain of events.”

I supposed it was better that she channeled her hatred toward a man she’d never see again.

I wrapped my arm around Mel’s shoulders and drew her close to me. “You’re gonna be okay, Mel.”

She nodded.

I took my mom’s letter out of my shirt pocket, opened it up, and placed it on the coffee table directly in front of us, pressing it on the surface to flatten out the wrinkles.

“I’m going,” I said.

She glanced at me.

“Will you go with me?” I asked.

She sucked in her bottom lip and shook her head.

“Mel. I need you to go with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I miss Ted.”

“I miss him, too. Mel, you can’t just sit around all day, moping. Teddy wouldn’t want you to spend your life that way.”

“You think, by me meeting your brothers, that I might be able to accept the loss of my own,” she spit out in a brusque tone. It hadn’t been a question, just an accusation.

“No. That’s not what this is about. This is about me honoring my mom’s last request and wanting you to be there with me.”

“You’re a big boy, Asher. You can meet your family on your own.”

“You’re my family, Mel. These two guys?” I pointed at the letter. “I don’t know them. But I want to, I want to at least meet them, let them know I exist. And I want them to know you, because
you
are my true family, and you mean more to me than anyone or anything.”

Losing Ted was hard for me, too. I needed to know that I wasn’t completely alone in this world. If Mel didn’t go with me, I was afraid I’d lose her, too.

I was afraid that what we’d done two weeks ago had ruined our friendship. We hadn’t had a chance to talk about it. She’d gone out with Alex, even though I’d asked her not to, even after we’d made love just the night before. It had crushed me when I’d run into them in the hallway. Then with the news of Ted dying, I hadn’t had the nerve to bring any of that up to her. Not that she would have heard anything I said. But now, at least I’d gotten her attention with this.

“When are you leaving?” She sniffled. I grabbed a tissue from the table and handed it to her.

“I don’t know.” I thought about it for a minute and remembered the promise I’d made to Ted about having Mel join me on stage. “I have a few gigs on the schedule so I need to either wait or clear them. I think I should do at least one of them, and I think you should join me.”

“Join you?”

“Yeah. I think we sound great together, and I would love to have you up there with me on a regular basis. We could be a team. Ash and Mel.” She frowned at me, and I shrugged. “Or Mel and Ash, whichever one you prefer.” I grinned, hoping for one in return, but she rolled her eyes.

“When’s your next performance?”

“Actually, it’s tomorrow night.”

“Hmmm…that’s kinda soon. I don’t know if I’d be ready without some rehearsal time.”

“You’ve played with me enough. You don’t need any rehearsal.”

“What did you have in mind to play?”

“The usual. Nothing you haven’t already played with me.”

She tapped her finger to her lips, and as I watched her, I thought of the way they’d felt against mine. I shook my head.
Don’t go there, Asher
.

“Okay. I’ll join you on stage. But I’m not going to go with you to meet your brothers.”

“Then I won’t go either,” I said, picking up the letter and crumpling it in my hand before tossing it across the room into the trashcan.

“Ash!” She stood up, walked to the little metal can, and grabbed the letter. “God, you’re such a moron.” She opened it and straightened the paper the best she could before joining me back on the couch. “Here.” She placed it on my lap. “Fine. I’ll go with you. Just don’t be such a pussy about it all.”

I smiled. It was nice to have her back.