If You're Gone (18 page)

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked when she returned, bedazzled key ring in hand.

“Thanks,” I said. “But no. I should do this alone.”

“Okay, well just be careful,” Anna told me. “And I don’t just mean with my car.”

“I will,” I promised as I threw my arms around her neck. “Thanks.”

Once I had the keys in hand I took off running towards her car. The only other thing I needed before I could start my trip was waiting for me inside the drawer of my bedside table.

I tore down the highway heading north in Anna’s blue compact, the noon sun’s rays were blinding as they penetrated the windshield. According to the GPS, my destination was just over three hours away, but I was determined to make it in two and a half. On the passenger seat beside me sat the note from under the tree, tucked safely inside Chris’ book. The navigation was programmed to the address written in the front cover of the paperback, and I could only pray that I would find him at home. Chris could read the note just as he had read the waitress’s scribbles that day in the diner. I knew he was my only chance to learn what the paper said and possibly put an end to the mystery of what happened to Brad. And, in the back of my mind, I knew it might be the only way I would see Chris again. Even if only to say a proper goodbye.

I traveled for over one hundred miles, bringing me almost to the Virginia state line, until the GPS prompted me to exit onto a two-lane highway that seemed headed to nowhere. The occasional aluminum mailboxes were overgrown with vines and tall weeds and the sight of a lonely, burnt out gas station gave me the chills.

I didn’t tell Anna where I am going. I didn’t tell my parents where I am going… I didn’t tell anyone where am I going. I’m driving to an unknown address in the middle of nowhere in search of a guy none of my friends have even met. Am I making a huge mistake?

My thoughts wandered and I dreamed up a small, pink handgun in Anna’s glove box, which made me laugh. Anna had been terrified to hold Graham’s BB gun when he set up old soda cans for target practice in our back yard. There were undoubtedly no weapons in Anna’s car, with perhaps the exception of a metal nail file that had become lodged between the seats. I grabbed my cell phone from the seat beside me and glanced at the LED screen. Like a cliché in every bad horror movie Brad and I had watched together, there was no service. Even if I wanted to tell someone where I was going, I couldn’t. I was in this alone.

“Turn left in three-quarters of a mile.” The robotic woman’s voice from the GPS made me jump and I nearly slammed my foot on the brake.

“Get a grip,” I whispered aloud.

I gradually slowed the car, craning my neck to get a better look at the turn. I was being directed towards a narrow road surrounded by trees on each side. There was not another car or living soul in sight.

“Turn left,” the GPS reminded me.

The car crept along at twenty miles an hour as I turned the wheel and continued onto the road, hitting bumps and potholes on the uncared-for pavement. With a glance to the navigation screen, I saw my destination was approaching on the right in half a mile.
This is it.
To my left was an unkempt plot of mobile homes, assumedly abandoned, but it was impossible to sure. My heart was pounding as I struggled to read the numbers on the few mailboxes I passed.
What will Chris say when he sees me? Has he even realized he gave me his address when he gave me the book? Or did he give me the book so I would be able to find him?

“
Your destination is on the right.”

I pressed the brake until the car was at a slow crawl and brought it to a stop. Between rows of trees was a gravel driveway, overgrown with thick weeds that sprouted up the middle. There weren’t any signs forbidding my entry, so I took a deep breath and turned onto the rocky drive. In the distance, behind a grown up yard and tall shade trees, sat a little white house with a wooden porch. Potted plants and faded lawn ornaments were scattered on and around the railings.

As soon as I made it to the clearing I pulled to the side of the driveway and put Anna’s car in park. I sat there for a moment, scanning the area, before turning off the engine. A rusted-out Cadillac was parked in the grass beside the house but I wasn’t sure if it belonged to Chris. Thinking back to the times I had seen him around town, I realized I had never seen him in a car-he had always been on foot. I reached to the seat next to me for the book containing the note and opened the front cover to reveal the address.

Chris Colvin

108611 Liberty Road

Gladeville, North Carolina

I glanced up at the faded house numbers that hung on the doorframe. The navigation system had led me to the right place. I turned off the engine and slipped the keys into my front pocket. It was time. I opened the drivers’ side door and closed it gently behind me, not allowing it to latch. The yard was eerily quiet, apart from the chime of a metal wind ornament that was tied to the gutter on the edge of the porch.

I walked lightly on the gravel as I headed towards the house, cringing at each crunch my tennis shoes made against the rocks.
I shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t feel right.
I stopped for a moment, staring at the front door and searching for any sign of movement inside the house.
But if I leave now I’ll be no closer to having answers. If I leave now I may never see Brad, or Chris, again…

I moved quickly towards the house and heard a loud creak under my feet as I stepped onto the rickety wooden porch. A weathered rocking chair sat beside the door with a blue, crocheted afghan strewn over the arm. I clenched anxious fists before raising my right hand to knock. I knocked three times, each one gradually louder, and took a step back.
Silence
. I had just begun to lift my fist again when a noise came from behind the house, like the clanking of metal. A chill ran up my spine.

Stepping slowly and quietly off the porch, I took strides around the stained, white vinyl siding walls until I had a clear view of the backyard. There in the overgrown garden was a guy in a baseball cap and dirty t-shirt, bent over as he tilled the soil. I couldn’t see his face, but his broad shoulders were familiar.

“Chris?” I called out across the lawn.

He continued to work at the ground, his body moving back and forth. I took a few steps closer and spoke his name again, louder this time. “Chris?”

As I moved towards him I noticed a thin white cord running down his back. He was wearing headphones. His head was down and he didn’t see me as I approached. I stretched my hand slowly towards his body, trying not to scare him, and let my fingertips graze his shoulder as I stepped closer.

“Chris?” I said with a smile.

He flinched, dropping the shovel to the ground and yanking the earbuds from his ears as he quickly straightened up. The brim of the baseball cap shaded his eyes and nose and I squinted in the sun trying to make out his facial features. As he pulled the cap from his head and lifted his chin, his eyes locked with mine. Suddenly the breath I had been attempting to catch the entire drive was sucked from my body.

“Lillian?”

I felt dizzy, my knees were weak, and I blinked rapidly as I stood there frozen, staring into his eyes.
Don’t do this again. Don’t imagine it’s him.

“Lillian? It’s okay, it’s me.”

“I…” My mouth hung open and my jaw started to tremble. I reached a cautious hand towards him and let my fingertips brush his unshaven cheek as I searched his face. “Brad?”

Suddenly he threw his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. I couldn’t move. My limbs hung at my sides as he squeezed, my face pressing into biceps. I tried to shake my head and tell myself to snap out of it, that I must be daydreaming again or losing my mind, but as he held me it felt familiar. My thoughts raced back to the night of graduation and the smell of his skin as he had lain with me under the stars. I wasn’t dreaming. It was him.
I have found him
.

“Brad,” I whispered, still clutching Chris' book in my left hand. He continued to squeeze me in a tight embrace, but something didn’t seem right.

I had often dreamed up scenarios in which Brad was found, suffering from amnesia and lying in a hospital bed, or being rescued from captivity in an abandoned building, but this was neither of those. He knew who I was and he wasn’t wearing shackles. This backyard reunion was a far cry from a search and rescue mission.

I pushed away from him, escaping his grasp so I could take a step back. I could feel my cheeks growing hot as I stared into his eyes. “Brad, what is going on?”

“Lillian, I’ve missed you so much. How did you find me?” His voice was trembling as he reached out to touch my face, but I turned away.

“I… I don’t understand,” I whispered. “What are you doing here?”

A gust of wind blew through the garden causing the branches and vines to sway. Loose strands of my hair whipped in front of my eyes. My head was spinning.

“I can explain everything. Please… please, Lil, give me a chance to explain.”

I heard the sound of the back door opening and turned to see Chris standing in the doorway wearing the jeans and gray hoodie that I had grown to recognize.

“Chris,” I said flatly, staring at him with a blank expression. His eyes were wide.

“How do you know him?” Brad asked.

“I…” I looked to Brad and then back to Chris. “How do
you
know him?”

“Chris is my brother, Lillian. There are some things I need to tell you…”

“Your
brother
?” My jaw gaped open as I searched their faces. “But he…”

“I’m so sorry,” Chris mouthed.

“I need to sit down,” I said, my knees trembling beneath me.

“Of course.” Brad nodded. “Here… come with me. Chris, you should go inside. Check on Mom.”

“Mom?” I whispered.

Brad grabbed my hand and pulled me towards an old shed behind the garden where a wooden bench acted as a lean-to for a rusty collection of garden tools. I looked over my shoulder as Chris retreated inside. I watched him disappear into the dilapidated house as Brad squeezed my hand. His touch felt rougher than I remembered. Different. Yet my fingers melted into his. I couldn’t form a solid thought in my mind.
Am I dreaming? Or is this some sort of cruel trick?

“Have a seat.” He dusted a layer of dirt from off of the bench and drew me down next to him, his fingers still laced with mine.

“What does this say?” I pulled my hand away and slipped the note out of the book. “Please tell me this note explains everything, and that you didn’t just take off and leave me and everyone else…”

He took the paper from me and closed his hand around it as he dropped his head.

“It explains some things. Yes.”

“Then answer me, please.” I shook my head, struggling to take it all in. “Where are we? What is this place? Why are you here? And Chris… why did Chris…” I spit out the questions as quickly as they entered my mind. I looked around at the dilapidated house and the overgrown grass and then looked back to Brad who seemed right at home. Nothing was making any sense.

“Lil, I'm not sure where to start.”

As he peered up at me his blue eyes were washed out from the sunlight. I was seeing him differently than I ever had before, remembering that the guy I thought I fell in love with had a rap sheet, adoption records, a lying brother and an entire past that had eluded me over the course of our relationship. As I looked at him, I wondered if the relationship I had been clinging to since May was all a lie. Was it over and I was the last to know?
Or is it ending now?

“Brad, I don’t care where you start. Please just tell me what’s going on.”

He ran his fingers through his hair like I had seen him do so many times before. Somehow, it was still sexy.

“This house belongs to my uncle,” he started slowly. “He’s my mom’s brother, my biological mom that is. I know I never told you I was adopted, or that I had a brother, and I’m so sorry…”

“I already know that you were adopted, Brad. Montana told me… in one way or another.” I let out a heavy sigh. “There are a lot of things you didn’t tell me that I had to find out from other people. Or from the
police
…” I had to stop myself. “Go on.”

His eyes widened. “Mom is sick, Lil. Like, really sick. She was looking for me, and when my uncle found my graduation announcement online he tracked me down.”

The man who came to Lizard’s.

“That night, after I took you home, he stopped me on the road and said he wanted me to come with him to see my mom.” He finished his sentence with an emphasis as if he was done. The end.

I shook my head. “And then what? You jumped in his car and never looked back? Brad, this doesn’t make any sense!”

“No! I never intended to just up and
leave
the way I did… it was never meant to be for more than a day or two. “Well what happened? Why did you stay?”

“I… I panicked. I just got so overwhelmed. Seeing her, talking with her, getting to know her again… I didn’t know how I could leave her. My mom isn’t the same person she was when I was a kid.” His tone of voice changed suddenly. More desperate. “Mom’s liver is failing, Lil. She’s dying.”

“Brad, I’m sorry… but I still don’t understand…”

“She wanted to find me because she needed me to forgive her for giving me up. She wanted to make sure she found me before it was too late. And deep down, I knew I needed to see her to forgive her, too. Despite everything that happened, everything she put me through, I still love her.”

His words sounded as though they could have come out of my own mouth.
Despite everything, everything he put me through, I have continued loving him. But is love enough?