Rebel Soul: (Rebel Series Book 1) ((Rebel Series)) (24 page)

Tessa

“Why didn’t you just go with them?” I asked Elle. “You have a fake ID.” We were sitting on the couch watching some romantic comedy on television. Aiden had been sleeping for the past three hours; even Hunter was curled up at my feet fast asleep. There wasn’t any need for Elle to remain here, yet she did.

She gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I figured you’d want some company,” she answered, bumping her shoulder into mine gently. “Besides, it seemed like something the three of them needed to do alone.”

My eyebrows rose in disbelief. There was more to it; there were things that Elle wasn’t sharing. She stared at the television screen, avoiding meeting my eyes.

“Elle…” I said, about to push her a little more. Hunter sat up abruptly, staring at the door. The sound of footfall on the front porch made his ears turn back. A moment later, the door swung open and Becky walked in, holding it for Brock. He was half-carrying Braden.

Elle and I stood up, making room so Brock could dump Braden’s almost unconscious body on the sofa.

“Rough night?” Elle joked weakly, her shoulders slumping at the sight of him.

Braden opened one eye and stared at her. “The fuck you doing here?” he slurred.

“Is that…lipstick?” Elle leaned forward, spotting the smear of red against Braden’s lips. He brought his hand up, wiping his lips in a half assed attempt at removing the proof. I looked towards Brock and Becky for an explanation. The matching dismal expressions on their faces said it all. Elle saw too and tears welled up in her eyes. She took a shaky breath.

The heartbreak was etched onto her face. Becky took a step towards her, but Elle backed away. “I’m just…I’m just going to go,” she said, her voice wavering with broken emotion. She wordlessly left, her eyes downcast and her shoulders trembling.

“I’m going to go too,” I said, nodding to Elle’s retreating back. Brock nodded with understanding. His hand gripped mine as I passed and he gave it a gentle squeeze. The expression in his eyes was heavy with apology.

“He’s hurting right now,” he said lowly. “It doesn’t make it right and I’m not saying it does. Elle deserves better than that,” he added, catching the furious look that passed across my face. It was clear that Brock didn’t agree with his brother’s actions either.

“I know.” I sighed, biting my lip. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, at the funeral.”

Brock nodded and gently pressed his lips against my forehead, then he released my hand so I could follow my broken-hearted friend.

Elle was leaning against the passenger door of my truck, her face buried in her hands. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, letting her cry for several long minutes. Finally, she pulled away. “Let’s just get out of here,” she croaked, glaring back at the house.

* * *

Elle cried herself to sleep that night. The next morning, it seemed her tears had run out. She didn’t want to talk about Braden, about the lipstick on his mouth, or about how he’d crushed her heart. She had a stoic expression on her face while we went about getting ready for the funeral.

Sue kept sending her worried glances. “You really don’t have to go, honey.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Elle snapped, her cool disposition wavering. “I’ve been a part of the Millers’ lives for two years. I knew Deanna. I’m friends with Becky. I’m not going to bail out on the funeral because Braden…“ She swallowed hard, gathering every last bit of her strength. “Let’s just get this over with.”

We took Sue’s car over to the church. Finding parking was surprisingly difficult. The church was full of people; it was as if the entire town had shown up for Deanna Miller’s funeral. I even spotted my dad and all of my brothers sitting at a pew towards the middle of the room. There was just enough space for Sue, Elle and me.

“I’ll be right back,” I told them, spotting Brock near the front of the church with Becky, Braden and Aiden. Braden looked like shit. I couldn’t tell if it was grief, the fact that he was nursing a massive hangover, or that he’d broken Elle’s heart. Maybe it was all of the above. He wouldn’t even meet my eyes when I approached.

Brock took me in his arms and I pressed my cheek against his chest and squeezed him as hard as I could. His eyes were full of sadness, but the smile he gave me when he released me was authentic.

“I’m sitting with my family,” I said, gesturing towards the back of the room. Brock looked up, tensing when he saw my father.

“I appreciate them coming out,” Brock replied automatically.

Pastor Bruce joined us, putting a hand on Brock’s arm. “Are you ready?” he asked with his gentle, commanding voice. This was the same man that had baptized me and every one of my brothers; the same man who’d married my parents and Ben and Katie.

“Yes.” Brock nodded. He was still holding my hand in his. I gave him a tiny smile, releasing it so that we could both return to our seats.

Pastor Bruce stepped up to the altar, clearing his throat to capture the attention of the church. 

I slid into the pew beside Elle, feeling the intensity of my father’s gaze. He said nothing as the services began.

Pastor Bruce’s voice rang out loudly and clearly. “Jesus said, ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted…’” He paused, his eyes peering out at the full pews. He started speaking again, lecturing the room at large about how Christians ought to not fear death.

I tuned out, unable to focus. It was the first time I’d really been in a church since Ben and Katie got married, and I was distracted, my thoughts pulling me in several different directions. I ached for Brock and his siblings. I thought about my best friend sitting beside me, who I knew was hurting deeply over Braden’s careless actions, even if she wouldn’t say as much. She was focused intently on Pastor Bruce, her eyes unblinking and her back rigid.

“Deanna asked me to read this for her children,” the minister was saying. His voice drew my attention to the front again. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” The room was silent, absorbing the scripture. “Now, Becky Miller, Deanna’s only daughter, has some words she’d like to share.”

Becky stood up, soothing the creases of her black funeral dress. She walked on steady legs towards the altar. She adjusted the microphone, her watery blue eyes taking in how many people were there. “Wow. There’s a lot of people here,” she said, her voice trembling. A few people laughed awkwardly. She gave a tight smile and drew in a shaky breath, readying herself.

“My mom lived with a lot of regrets, but she always told us that we weren’t one of them. We were the driving force behind everything that she did.” She was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts. She had a piece of paper in her hand, but I noticed her eyes barely glanced at it. “My mom wasn’t good at letting people in. She learned not to trust them at a young age. People judge. People throw stones. She was never good at accepting help. She bowed her head and dealt with things herself.
My strength comes from within,
she always said when I asked her if she was lonely. It wasn’t until she got sick that she started opening up more to me. She told me it was okay to trust, that she hoped I would again. She told me that it’s okay to lean on people, to cry when it hurts, to speak up when someone isn’t treating you right. She said these were things she wished she’d known back then, but that it was better to learn them later than never at all.”

The church was silent, each person’s eyes focused on Becky as she stood before them. “The bond that she had with my son, Aiden…” Becky trailed off again, drawing in a shaky breath as a few tears escaped down her cheeks. She brushed them aside and smiled towards her son. “She always said that his birth was what knitted our entire family closer together. Before him, we were too scared to lean on each other, too scared to trust in one another because we’d been burned by someone close to us before. But we came together for that, for him. Even with distance separating us, we grew stronger as a family.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say here,” Becky continued, the tears streaming down her face without restraint, “is don’t take the people you care about for granted. Don’t throw away their love. We’re stronger together than we are apart.”

Elle let out a strangled sound beside me, the tears she’d fought to hold back finally falling free at Becky’s final words as Becky made her way back to her seat and Pastor Bruce positioned himself in front of the altar.

“Before we conclude the funeral service, I’d like to end with a note from Luke 6:37; ‘
Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven
.’”

* * *

The burial for Deanna was family only. A huge group of us that planned on attending the reception afterwards at O’Riley’s decided to grab something to eat beforehand.

“Let’s go to Betty’s diner,” Gordon suggested to the group at large. The group included my dad, all three of my brothers, a very pregnant Katie, Elle, and Sue.

“Sure, why not?” Elle sighed. “I’ve got nothing else to do.” I knew she was still hurt over Braden walking right past her without so much as a single glance once the funeral services had ended.

“I’ve got stuff to do at the farm,” Dad said. He looked completely out of place, dressed up in his Sunday best. When my mom was alive, Dad used to attend masses every Sunday with her and the boys. After her death, he stopped going and he stopped taking us. The last time he’d set foot in the church was for Ben’s wedding and he’d been every bit as uncomfortable then as he was now.

Truthfully, I was surprised that my father had even showed up for the funeral. He’d made his opinion about Brock Miller perfectly clear time and time again over the past week and I didn’t think he was ever friendly with Deanna.

“It can’t wait until after you’ve had something to eat?” Sue interjected, arching a brow.

Dad gave her a rare smile and scratched his beard, considering. “I suppose it could.” His eyes drifted over to me. The disappointment and anger that had clouded them a few days before had diminished and he looked at me with warmth. “Mind keeping your old man company on the drive there?”

“Sure,” I said, giving him a tiny smile. I hadn’t really spoken to my father since I’d stormed away from the conversation I’d overheard him having with Sue. I didn’t exactly want to talk about any of that today, not with everything else going on, but I didn’t want to cause further friction by continuing to ignore him. After all, he was my father. He was always going to be a major part of my life, whether or not he agreed with my choices. We were just going to have to learn how to live with one another when we disagreed.

Katie had been massaging her stomach distractedly while we all debated on whether or not we wanted to come, and she tensed, breathing through her mouth carefully.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked, frowning at the strained look on her face.

“I’m fine.” She waved him away. “It’s another one of those Braxton Hicks contractions.”

“I should get you home,” my brother fretted, rubbing her back in slow circular movements.

“I want to go eat,” she told him, smiling and shrugging.

He regarded her for a minute then sighed. “Alright, we’ll stop by for a bite to eat. Meet you all there?”

Our group divided into separate vehicles. I squeezed Elle’s hand in mine briefly before I followed my dad to his truck.

Dad held the key up to the ignition, his hand freezing. He exhaled deeply and turned to look at me. “I don’t expect you to understand the love a parent has for their child. Maybe you will one day
far
into the future, but right now, all you see is me being unfair.”

“Dad –“

“Let me talk, Tessa,” Dad cut me off, giving me a stern look that booked no room for arguments. “Maybe I am being a little unfair, but you’re my little girl and I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

The silence stretched on between us for several long seconds. “Dad, you
can’t
protect me from every bad thing out there,” I told him, giving him a pained smile as memories of the bush party, and Chris, overcame me. I swallowed hard. “Bad things in life happen to everyone. You’ve given me more than enough tools to handle the bad things, though, and I have the added bonus of having a lot of good things in my life. I have a family that loves me; you all might drive me nuts, but I know you’ll always be there for me. A lot of people don’t have that,” I remarked, my brows creasing as I thought about the Millers. I looked back at my father with determination. “Brock might break my heart,
I
might break his heart. We might work, we might not, but that’s for
me
to find out and you can’t shelter me from that.”