“So I do. I’m sure Lee told you of it, in whatever brief conversations you’ve had at school.”
“You sent him to UCLA just so he could try and woo me,” My voice becomes low. “You made him transfer –”
“Not against his will.” Farlon shrugs. “He was eager to leave the country. And me. He was eager to get the money as well, you know. He wants nothing more than to run from his responsibilities. I would never let him have it, of course. I have my ways of taking it from him even if he did receive it.” Farlon slams the photo album shut, but his smile widens. “He is my only son. My father ran the stables just as his father did before him, and his father before him. I was not allowed to choose my own career. And neither will he. He will bow to duty and tradition as I have, and as the men before him have.”
A sharp pain alerts me to the fact my nails are biting into my clenched palm. The microwave finishes, the gentle beep cutting the tension. I fish the mugs out and pour the instant cocoa mix in and stir each slowly. Farlon watches me the whole time, dark eyes so different from Lee’s. Lee must’ve gotten his hazel-gold from his mother.
“I won’t pester you to marry him any longer,” Farlon says. “I realized my mistake shortly after you left the restaurant. One should not force marriage for gain.”
His words are nice, but something about the way he says them doesn’t sound true. Grace said he was in debt to loan-sharks. Is he really giving up that easily? Or does he know Lee and I are growing to like each other more? He probably thinks it’s all going to work out, that it’s all going according to his little plan.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t like you.”
Farlon laughs. “Is that so?”
“You use your kids just to get money. You’re going to force Lee to inherit the family business. No wonder Grace won’t talk to you anymore. You treat your kids like pawns in a chess game and it’s disgusting. You disgust me. I’ll never marry Lee just so you can have the money.”
I pile the mugs on a platter and start to the door. Farlon calls after me.
“But you need the money, don’t you? Your family’s business is in quite a lot of trouble. I had my insiders research your parent’s stock, and it’s not looking very good. If you don’t get a large sum of money soon, it’s over. Poof. Their quaint dream company down the drain.”
My hands clench hard around the platter.
“You’re much more loyal to your family than Lee is. You have the sense of duty and familial honor I wish my own children had. You will do the right thing. I know you will.”
I let out a snarl under my breath and push out the front door.
Dad asks me what’s wrong. I just smile and hand him a cocoa. Riley dives for his. Mom takes her cup while maintaining a good distance from Dad. They don’t look at each other. When they talk they don’t lock eyes, staring at the ground or above each others’ shoulders.
“Why is Farlon here, Dad?” I ask.
Dad takes a deep swig of cocoa. “Grandpa’s lawyer said some things in the house were willed to him. He called us and arranged to come to the house when we were cleaning it out.”
“You trust him in the house by himself?” I ask.
“There’s nothing left in there worth any value, kiddo. We cleared it out weeks ago. Don’t worry so much, okay?”
“She has every right to worry, Daniel,” Mom snaps. “The man gives me a bad vibe.”
“Oh stop,” Dad scoffs. “You were always so suspicious of your dad. Don’t tell me that extends to his friends, too.”
Mom draws up to her full height and makes her voice icy.
“We are not having this conversation.”
Dad shrugs at me and tries to smile, but it’s fractured. Riley sits on the rusty swing and sips his cocoa. I walk over to him and sit on the other swing, and we watch Mom and Dad.
“It’s getting worse,” Riley says finally. “Sometimes they don’t talk to each other for days. And at night, or when the bills come on Wednesday, there’s always yelling.”
“They love each other,” I insist.
“Yeah, duh.” Riley nods. “But they love the company a lot, too. It’s what keeps them going, you know?”
“Besides us two bundles of joy.”
“Besides us.” He smirks, but it fades quickly. The swings creak mournfully. I stand and thrust my hands into my jacket pockets.
“Where are you going?” Riley asks.
“To see the creek.” I turn. “You wouldn’t know if anything happened at the creek when we were kids, would you?”
Riley shrugs. “We played in it a lot. Nothing weird happened.”
Figures. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I make my way through the sunflower field, dead stalks and weeds crunching under my converse. The path is the same as the one in my dream, but it doesn’t feel like it. My dream was more vivid, and in my dream the sunflowers were in full bloom, the color of saffron and smelling like hot summer earth. All I can smell now is winter, cold and crisp, and all I can see are dead things wanting to be alive again.
Grandpa, wanting to be alive again to take care of the garden like it deserves.
I make my way gingerly down the gulch, clinging to roots and using stones as footholds. The creek is babbling softly. It’s about three or four feet deep, and gets deeper in the spring when the snow up north melts. The water is clean and cold, but not cold enough for ice to form. I run my hand back and forth in the water, watching it rush over the smooth stones of the creekbed. It hasn’t changed at all.
Grace told me to come here. The creek in my dream was a summertime creek, though. This winter creek won’t jog any memories. I get up and walk along the banks. I try to skip a stone, but my fingers are numb. Grandpa taught me to do that. He taught me how to work a lawn mower, how to make perfect pancakes, how to defend myself against bullies. And now he’s gone. Mom and Dad are clearing out the house, and that’ll sell and be gone, too. I won’t be able to come to the creek, anymore.
My pocket buzzes with a text – Lee.
‘I’ve got a surprise for you. At Grace’s. Meet me there tonight?’
‘Sex won’t be a surprise coming from you’. I sigh and text back.
‘Who said anything about that? Jeez, someone’s eager’.
I roll my eyes and try to skip another stone. He texts a few minutes later.
‘Seriously, meet me tonight at Grace’s. You’ll like it, I promise’.
‘I’m at the creek’. I reply.
He doesn’t text after that. There’s silence, and then my phone buzzes with a call. I pick up.
“Why are you there?” Lee asks.
“Why do you think?” I kick a rock. “To try and find out what happened here. That bullshit mystery you kept referring back to.”
“What mystery?”
I use a deep Lee voice. “‘You know me’, ‘you’ll break my heart again’. Ring any bells?”
“I never said anything about a creek, though. How did you know it was at the creek?”
“I had a dream,” I bite my pinky nail. “A couple dreams, actually. They felt too real to not be memories. I was looking for someone, running through Grandpa’s sunflower field. And the dream cut off when I got to the creek.”
Lee’s quiet. I hear rustling like he’s sitting up.
“You could just tell me what happened,” I say. “And spare me the trouble of remembering.”
There’s a very long silence. Just when I think of hanging up, Lee’s voice murmurs.
“You drowned there.”
I stop breathing. “What?”
“We used to…me and you as kids, we used to play at the creek a lot. Your brother didn’t like it as much. He’d go off into the woods and flip over rocks and crush beetles or something.”
“Sounds like Riley,” I mutter.
“One day, I went too far downstream. It gets deep there. You kept telling me to come back, but I wouldn’t listen. I wanted to impress you. I wanted to walk to the edge of a log a
nd walk back and you’d be impressed I was so brave. It’s a stupid thing little boys do – wanting to be brave.”
Lee sighs, soft and weary.
“The log snapped. I couldn’t swim. Didn’t know how. I kept grabbing onto branches and rocks to hold on to but they all came loose. The water was so cold I couldn’t breathe right. And when I went under I couldn’t breathe at all. You jumped in after me and got me – I don’t know how you did it with your scrawny kid body, but you swam me to the edge and pushed me up on the bank. If you go downstream about a half-mile, there’s a small waterfall. Nothing really big – seven, eight feet. I guess you must’ve been tired from swimming for both of us because you couldn’t get out. You went over it and…”
Lee trails off, his voice wavering.
“Cracked your head. There was blood. Not a lot. But enough. I was crying. Just standing there and watching you lie on the rocks and crying like a baby. A coward.”
“You were a kid, Lee –”
“That’s no excuse!” His voice thunders. “I could’ve done something. I should’ve done something.”
He sounds so angry at himself. I wait a few seconds before using my most comforting voice.
“What happened then?”
“Your grandpa must’ve heard me crying. He came down and got you out and wrapped you up. He took you to the doctor and I went with him. You got stitches and when you woke up you didn’t remember the creek. Or me.”
Suddenly it all makes sense. Everything Lee said when we first met makes sense. If he’d told me this at the beginning I would’ve never believed him. But the gaps in my memory are filled by it.
“How old were we?” I finally ask.
“I was ten. You were nine.”
“Why doesn’t Riley remember it?”
“He was in the house the whole time. Watching cartoons. Your grandpa asked the lady next door to watch him and me while he went to the doctor, but I kept screaming until he let me come with. The doctor guy was old. In a house. We didn’t go to the hospital. I don’t think your Grandpa ever told your parents, either. He told me to keep it a secret from grown-ups.”
“Mom didn’t like us spending the summers with him,” I say. “She thought he was irresponsible. But he wasn’t like that. He just trusted us to play on our own.”
“He definitely wouldn’t want your parents to find out about what happened, then.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Definitely not.”
There’s that quiet again. Technically I had amnesia. It’s so surreal to think that. I had amnesia. I have amnesia. I forgot Lee because of it. Lee likes me, but I’d forgotten him. That must’ve been painful.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know –”
“I didn’t want you to know,” Lee interrupts. “I didn’t want to tell you. You wouldn’t believe me. And if you did, that sad story would artificially make you feel sorry for me. Make you like me.”
“I like you. Not-artificially.”
He laughs. “So, are you coming back? This surprise won’t open itself.”
“Are you sure it’s not your…um…dick?”
“It’s a little more metallic than a dick.”
“You didn’t get a weird sex toy, did you?”
“You - !” He splutters. “No! You’re insufferable! Just get back here and open it, okay? I’ll wait all night if I have to.”
“I have to help my family move stuff,” I say. “But I guess I can drive back.”
“Yes!” It sounds like he punches the air. “Okay, see you then.”
He hangs up like an excited little kid. I roll my eyes but I’m smiling. It’s a lot to digest. As I help Mom sort clothes and help Dad move Christmas ornaments and yard tools, what Lee said spins in my head. Lee must’ve felt horrible after it happened. Because he couldn’t swim, I got hurt. But he can swim now. He’s on the UCLA swim team, for crissakes. I freeze unwrapping an ornament. Is that why? Is what happened the reason he decided to pursue swimming? No. I’m just jumping to conclusions.
Betsy comes over to help, beehive hairdo tucked behind a scarf and her sleeves rolled up. We move a roll of carpet together. When we’re out of earshot of Mom and Dad, I bring up the business.
“This is just out of curiosity,” I pant and wipe my hands on my jeans, trying to sound casual. “But how much would the business need to get out of trouble? And how soon?”
Betsy narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t go getting any ideas now. Your mom and dad and I can manage on our own. You don’t need to worry about this stuff, not now. Just focus on your studies.”
“I’m just curious. Mom and Dad won’t tell me anything, you know that. They’re smothering me with silence. Please?”
Betsy sighs. She stares at the carpet for a moment. “A hundred thou. At least. And we’d need it in the next month to make the books.”
I wince. She sees it and points threateningly at me.
“Don’t go telling anyone I said that. Just forget you ever heard it, alright? Grown-up problems aren’t any place for kids to mess around.”
“I’m nineteen, almost twenty. Not a kid.”
“You’re still growing. That’s all that matters.”
When the last box is thrown in the dumpster and the last shard of glass swept up, I make an excuse about Jen needing help on a project to go back to L.A. Mom doesn’t seem to be fully believe it, but Dad does and tells me to drive safe. The way Mom glares at him, I can tell they’ll have a talk about this later. Or a fight. Betsy has her customary gracious smile on as she kisses my cheek goodbye and drives away in her cherry-red convertible. Farlon is nowhere to be seen – one of the cars I saw earlier is gone. He must’ve gotten what he came for and left.
Riley hangs on my shoulder as I walk out to the car.
“Take me with you,” He pleads.
“Can’t. Your big head wouldn’t fit in the car.”
“Screw you!” He jabs at my shoulder playfully but I duck and laugh. I hover just before sliding into the driver’s seat and look at him seriously.
“Take care of Mom and Dad, okay?”
“It’s selfish of you,” He grunts. “Taking off to college and letting me be the buffer between them. It sucks. It really,” He kicks my tire. “Fucking sucks.”
“I’m sorry –”
“You’re not! You’re just gonna get in and go do whatever you want because you can. Because you’re not stuck between them. But I am, Rose. I am!”
“I –”
“No, you know what? Just go.” Riley turns away. “Just fucking go. Be happy and leave us behind. Let them fall apart.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I snap. “What do you want me to do, Riles? Drop out of school and come home and try to keep Mom and Dad together?”
“All this started with money.” Riley grits his teeth. “I could get a job, you could get two. Hell, high school blows. I’ll drop out and get a job or two –”
“Don’t!” My voice pitches so high I’m almost screaming, but I lower it. “Don’t you dare. Stay in school and study and start thinking about college, okay?”
“What’s the point?” He laughs despondently. “Mom and Dad can’t help even a little, I’m not good enough at baseball to get a scholarship, and I’m not smart enough to get all the fancy scholarships you did –”
I hold up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t even think like that. I’ll figure something out, okay? You’ll see.” I feel like crying, but I keep my voice steady. I can’t let him see me weak. I’m the last stronghold he has now that Mom and Dad are weak. I give him a half-hearted smile.
“Trust me. It’ll all work out. I’ll make it work out.”
Riley heaves a sigh, and I hug him before getting in the car and pulling out of the driveway. He watches me go, illuminated by the porch light and looking sadder and older than ever.
~~~
LEE
~~~
My chest feels lighter.
It’s insane, the way Rose can do that. I didn’t even know the
pressure was there until I talked to her for the first time. Eleven years. Eleven years of not knowing how she was or if she was happy. I moved on – I had to. But a part of me was suffocated by the idea of her and I never meeting again. I was haunted as a kid, plagued by the beautiful blonde girl I knew Rose had to have grown up to be.
When we met in the dorms with me pretty much butt-naked, the pressure let up for the first time in years. When I saw her for the first time, everything fell into place. Clicked. I felt so right until her and her deliciously coconut-smelling-self disappeared around the corner, and then I felt wrong again. Not-whole.
I didn’t even know it was her until I asked Dad what she looked like. He wanted me to come here to get her to marry me. I came here to see if she was happy.
She wasn’t.
I asked around after we bumped into each other – Rose Jensen, a girl nobody really knew but had seen. The boys think she’s passable, with an emphasis on her hotter face. They’re idiots – all of her is beautiful. She just hides it behind textbooks, smartass remarks, and ambition. The girls thought she was nice, if a little quiet. They’d seen her at one or two frat parties, dragged there by her roommate, but she never stayed for long, and if she did, it was to help her drunk roommate back to their dorm. She didn’t date, and I couldn’t track down any of her friends. I didn’t plan to – I was creepy enough already just transferring to this school for her. But by some stroke of luck, the pierced-everything girl in my Psychology class – Jen - knew more about her than anyone. They were good friends. Jen told me what I needed to know; Rose was the friendly, good-grades sort of girl. Straight-A’s but not a socially stunted nerd. Pretty, sweet, smart, but entirely overlooked by boys because she doesn’t stand out to them and taken for granted by her friends because she helps them without asking for anything in return.
Rose doesn’t even know what she does for me. But now that I’ve told her about the creek, I feel better. Everything I’d been keeping inside me was let out. Now she knows how our pasts tie together. But that’s only half of the whole deal.
She has no idea how much I really care for her.
I groan and slap my forehead. I’m starting to sound like a sappy idiot from a chick flick. Grace, pulling on her shoes and a fur jacket, shoots me a look.