Lost and Found (14 page)

There’s so much wrong with that statement, I don’t know where to start. I abandon all efforts to make sense of things and try a different tack.

“Jeremy, where are you? I’m going to come get you.”

“Nah, man. Just stay away. I’m poison. I’m jus’ callin’ to tell you that slut girlfriend you have is no good. Dump her. Fuck her. No, wait, don’t fuck her. Definitely do
not
fuck her.” He laughs very bitterly at that. Then he starts to cry.

“What are you talking about, Jeremy?” My stomach is in knots.

“I didn’t do it, James. I didn’t. I jus’ want you to know that. I love you too much, man. Even though she was here, and she was taking her fucking clothes off, and she has a nice rack, I didn’t touch her.”

“Her
who
, Jeremy? Her
who
?” I’m still hoping he’s talking about his wife’s spirit and not the woman I was leaving here to propose marriage to.

“Your girlfriend or fiancée or whatever the fuck she is. She came at me, man, and she touched my dick. She said she wanted to be with me.” He starts sobbing. “And all I could think about was Laura and how disappointed she’d be in me and how I must have done something to make Hilary think this was something I wanted, and I don’t want it. I
don’t
want it, James, do you hear me? I don’t want any of this! I just want Laura back! I just want her back!” There’s a huge clatter and the phone cuts off. My guess is he’s launched his cell across a room and into a wall for the fifth time.

My hands are shaking, I’m so furious. My brother’s been pushed to that cliff-edge and it wasn’t by me. It was by the lying, cheating bitch I never should have gone out with in the first place. I cannot believe I have a ring for her in my pocket.

I scroll through my favorites and hit the green button on my phone. I don’t even wait for her greeting before I start talking.

“We’re done, Hilary. Fucking
done
.”

“Sweetie, what’s going on?” Her voice is saccharine sweet. Why did I never notice before how fake it sounded?

“Where is he?” I grind out.

“Where is who?”

“My brother.”

“How would I know where your waste of a brother is?”

It’s bad enough that she’s lying, but she’s also insulting the one guy in the world who doesn’t deserve it. He can’t help the fact that fate destroyed his world three months ago and left him to fade out to nothing.

I’m tempted to punch the stone wall next to me, but remember that my hands are my work and I need to work.

“Don’t fucking act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” I yell.

“You know what? I was going to forgive you for your latest bullshit, but you can forget it now.”

I hold the phone out and try to strangle it. Part of me honestly wishes it were her neck that I held in my hands.

Putting the cell back to my ear, I take a breath. “Hilary, whatever you said to Jeremy has made him really upset. I need to go to him and talk him down off the ledge. Tell me where he is.”

“How would I know?” she asks, but she’s not as bitchy about it this time.

“Because. You’re good at tracking people down, and I know you talked to him tonight.”

“Says who?”

“Says Jeremy.”

“He’s a fucking alcoholic, James. You can’t trust a word he says. He’s hallucinating about his dead wife again, you know.”

“Which you would only know because you saw him recently. Please, stop being a bitch and just tell me where he is.”

She hangs up on me without another word.

I guess I can’t blame her seeing as how I used her least favorite word in the world on her, but I can’t quite muster the regret I should probably feel. Instead, I call my sister.

“Jana, it’s me, James. Call me back ASAP. Jeremy’s in the shit again and this time I’m really worried.”

I hail a taxi and tell the driver to head out to Brooklyn. Jeremy won’t be at my sister’s place, but if I know her she has her phone off so it won’t wake the baby. She’ll never get my message in time to help us.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

THE DRIVE TAKES US ALMOST an hour. Sometimes I really hate New York and all its non-stop traffic. I use my key to let myself in and follow the dim lights left on to the kitchen. Jana is sitting at the dining table, drinking tea.

“Hey big brother, since when do you hang out in Brooklyn on a Wednesday night?” She stands to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She’s tiny, barely making it to my shoulder. With the dark circles under her eyes she looks way too fragile. I hold her against me longer than I normally do.

She looks up with concern in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Is it Jeremy?”

“How’d you guess?” I walk over to her kettle and pour myself some hot water, adding a teabag to it before joining her at the table.

“What are the chances anything else would bring you out here in the middle of the night?” She gives me a rueful smile.

“You’re right. And this time, it’s bad.”

“It’s always bad.” Her eyes get watery, but she doesn’t cry. My sister is tough as hell. She’s been put through the ringer, maybe more than any of us. Not only did she lose a best friend and a sister-in-law, she’s been left with the biggest burden of all.

I glance up the stairs with questions in my eyes.

“She’s asleep, as of ten minutes ago. I was just going to join her.”

“Still not going down easy?”

Jana snorts. “That’s funny. When did you turn into a comedian?”

I put my hand over hers. “I’m sorry. Just ignore me being stupid.”

She puts her hand over mine. “You’re not being stupid. You’re being a caring, loving, concerned uncle, and I appreciate it.”

“Want me to take her this weekend?” I’m not sure where that came from, but I don’t take it back when I see the look on her face.

Her eyes widen. “Could you? Would Hilary be okay with that?”

I shake my head and stare into my tea, gritting my teeth to keep from saying what I want to say about that bitch.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where Jeremy is?”

I look up to find Jana blinking a few times.

“Is this related to the Hilary issue?” she asks. “I’m lost.”

I shake my head, trying not to get all teary-eyed about my fucked-up life. “Unfortunately, yes. She tracked him down and made a move on him.”

“What?!” Jana yells so loud her voice echoes all over the kitchen.

Two seconds later we hear a wailing from the baby monitor.

Jana drops her head into her hands and mumbles, “Fuck me sideways.”

I stand and pat her on the head. “Stay here. I’ll get her.”

“Don’t bring her down or she’ll never sleep. Just rub her hiney and pat her on the back. Keep the light off.”

“You have a system, huh?” I walk down the hall, impressed as hell with my little sister. Twenty-five is awful young to be taking on a three-month old baby, especially being single.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, “when it works.”

I climb the stairs, half-dreading what waits for me and half-hoping that the simple act of comforting a tired baby will somehow deliver me from the real world for just a little while.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I KNOW I’M NOT SUPPOSED to help her wake up any more than she already is, but I can’t help myself. Her smell is better than any drug or anesthesia I could administer.

Her soft, nearly boneless body is nestled in the crook of my arm and I’m rocking back and forth as smoothly as I can in the chair my sister has set up near the window. The moon is full and its light fills the room with a silver glow.

I sing in a half-whisper, my voice breaking on the high notes. “And then she tried, to sleep with my brooooother, and messed him up in the heaaad for life, and then I took the riiiiiing that I bought her and threw it in the Hudson riiiiiiiver…”

My sister leans in the doorway and wipes a tear from her cheek. “I can’t believe she did that,” she whispers. “Did you really buy her a ring?”

I nod, looking down at my niece who’s finally fallen back to sleep.

“Did you really throw it in the Hudson?”

I shake my head. “No, but I’m seriously considering it.”

“I think I know where Jeremy might be,” she says.

I stop rocking and stand. “Where?” I whisper, tensing up when I feel baby Cassie moving around in response to my voice.

“I used that tracking app on his phone. The last known location was in Dad’s old apartment.”

“On East Eighty-Sixth?”

“Yeah.”

“But that place has been locked up since...”

“I know. But he has a key.”

I carefully lay Cassie down in the crib, rubbing her gently on the stomach until she ceases wiggling.

“Why can’t he stay in his fucking apartment?” I ask, angry that he’s so miserable he can’t even do the safe thing and at least be where we can find him.

“Because, it was Laura’s place too. Their old apartment has too many memories. Did you know that he hasn’t changed a thing? Her cereal bowl is still in the sink. Her dirty clothes are still in the hamper.”

I stand straight and look at my sister as the picture she paints solidifies in my mind’s eye. “Seriously?”

“Yes. And when I tried to clean up, he flipped out on me. I thought he was going to physically throw me out.”

“Is he dangerous?” I’ve never seen that side of my brother, but at this point, I wouldn’t doubt anything. He’s been pushed too far.

“No, he’s just in pain. He’s more than that, he’s in misery. He’s embracing it. Letting it turn everything dark.”

“I’m worried about the drinking.”

She huffs out a breath. “Drinking? Try the drugs.”

“He’s using too?”

“Yeah. I found a pipe in his bedroom.”

I feel sick to my stomach. “We need to get him into rehab.”

“Good luck with that. According to him he’s acting completely rationally.”

“Maybe he is.” My shoulders are stooped and I can’t seem to straighten them up. “I’ve never lost what he’s lost. Hell, I’ve never had what he’s had. How do I know the right way to act after losing so much?”

Jana puts her hand on my arm and squeezes it. “Drugs are never the answer. We need to find him.”

“I’ll do it,” I say, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “Keep your phone close. I’ll text you.”

“I will. Good luck.”

I see myself out, knowing my sister needs every minute of sleep she can get. Cassie will be up and demanding to be fed in just a few hours.

Chapter Thirty

THE TAXI STOPS AT THE steps leading up into my father’s old brownstone. It’s halfway done with renovations, a brown box full of old bones, walls and floors, and that’s about it. After he passed away two years ago we sat on it for a while, trying to decide what to do with it. Then Laura took on the job of tearing it apart and putting it all back together. Her and Jeremy’s place in Brooklyn’s Williamsburg area was almost done, so she needed her next project and we were all more than happy to let her take it on. We were guaranteed a return on our investment. She was a magician like that — able to take a thing old and lost and turn it into something everyone could admire.

Jeremy had walked around for years with a huge grin on his face, telling anyone who would listen that she was too good to be true. Turns out, he was right. That expression —
Only the good die young —
never meant more to us than on that day in March, the rainy day she went out almost nine months pregnant on a quick run for more drywall tape and never came back.

There are no lights on inside, but I don’t let that dissuade me. Jeremy’s living a very dark life right now; he avoids anything that will make things easier to see.

The door is unlocked. I push it in and inhale the scent of new construction materials. There’s a hint of staleness to it, making me wonder if this place will ever be finished. I don’t even care at this point. It seems like everything our family has touched has bad memories associated with it. Makes me want to burn it all to the ground and exorcise the demons I imagine are attached to it.

“Jeremy?” My feet crunch on construction debris as I go farther into the front entrance area.

“Jeremy? It’s me. I’ve come to take you home with me.”

I might hear something moving around upstairs, but then again, it could just be a mouse or a cat getting comfortable. With no activity here for the summer, things were bound to move in. Good real estate is hard to come by in New York City, even for the vermin.

 
I mount the stairs with caution, not sure whether all of the boards are secured. “Jeremy, come on, man. Let’s get outta here. This place sucks.”

I find him passed out on the floor in one of the bedrooms. It used to be the one that he and Laura would stay in when they visited our father. She used to tell us that it had the best view, which always made us laugh because it looks out at the side of the neighbor’s house and down onto an alley that houses the garbage and random bicycles. Laura could find a way to make anywhere sound like a great place to be.

“Come on, time to get up.”

Jeremy is complete dead weight. The muscles in my back twang in protest as I lift him up, reminding me that they don’t appreciate being used this way and would soon be making their displeasure known in the form of spasms.

I have to let his legs bang down the stairs, only able to lift his upper body. Jeremy isn’t the tallest guy in the world, but he’s fucking stout. He takes after our Irish father, thick in the neck and chest, stubborn everywhere else.

The cabbie is waiting with his meter on. He doesn’t get out to help me, though, the bastard. Maneuvering my brother down the stairs and into the car is no mean feat on my own like this. All this drinking has really fattened him up. I’ve had a lot of practice, though, so I make do and get him situated.

Once I’ve got us settled with my brother’s head in my lap, I breathe out a long sigh. “Trump Tower.”

“He okay?” the cabbie asks.

I stare at the buildings going by out the window. “No, not really.”

Five blocks later, Jeremy wakes up.

“Take me to the fountain,” he says, slurring all the words together.

I sigh. “Not tonight, man. We can go tomorrow.”

“Nah, take me now.” He sits up and grabs his door handle, throwing the back door open before I can think to stop him.