Authors: L A Cotton
WHEN TANNER PULLED
into the driveway, he cut the engine, ran his hands around the wheel, and stared straight ahead. He was about to give me the third degree; I’d seen that pensive look before. If Chase or Colton had turned up, they would have wasted no time giving it to me, but not Tanner. He preferred the silent treatment, the calm before the storm. I wanted to bail, to retreat to my room and sleep off the night before, but I didn't. Instead, I found myself trying to dodge his imminent attack.
“Look, Tanner, it was one night. We're both trying to come to terms with losing him. I can't explain it, but last night, I needed him.”
There—I'd said it.
But as the words left my mouth, a little voice inside my head was scolding me for making Ryan sound like nothing more than a convenience.
Tanner sighed beside me, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “I don't like it, Jeanie. He's not like Lucas, and you know that. The whole damn town knows that. I don't want you to end up more hurt than you already are.”
I reached across the stick shift and laid my hand on his. “Tanner, Lucas is gone. My best friend in the entire world died. That's not going to go away anytime soon. I know I have to process and find a way to move on”—the words stuck in my throat—”but I need to do it in my own time.”
“And Ryan?”
I shrugged. He still didn't understand. Hell, I didn't understand. “I'm not a baby anymore, Tan. I can look out for myself.”
I left Tanner and went inside, prepared for what would no doubt be another interrogation. Except when Mom appeared in the hallway, she simply said, “Get some rest, Mila Jean. We'll talk later.”
Who was I to argue with her? I headed to my room and shut it all out.
~
As the water cascaded over my skin, tears slid down my face and disappeared into the stream. Everything was a mess. Was this what losing someone did to a person? As the question played in my head, I pictured his face, letting the painful memories overtake me.
Smiling and carefree, Lucas held out his hand for me, coaxing me down to the water. “Come on, Mila, it's warm, I promise. Would I lie to you?” He pouted and flashed his puppy dog eyes in my direction; the ones he knew I couldn't resist.
“Fine, fine.” I took his hand and followed him to the water’s edge. “But if we get hypothermia and die, I'm holding you responsible, Lucas Gordon Gennery.”
He laughed, and I basked in the sound. HIs laugh made you want in on the joke just so you could laugh along with him. Infectious.
“Seriously, you're so melodramatic. A little water isn't going to harm you, Mila. Besides, we leave for college in three weeks. Everything is changing. We have to make the most every second we have left in Radeno.”
My hand slipped from his, and I stilled. Lucas turned back as he frowned. “Mila?”
“I don't want things to change.”
Lucas stepped closer to me, taking my hands in his. He stared down at me, his deep eyes and bright smile pinning me to the spot. “Life changes, Mila. We can't escape that, but I promise I'm always here.” He pulled up one of our joined hands and placed it over my heart. “I'll always be in here. Four years. And then it's the rest of our lives.”
I nodded and forced a smile, and Lucas laughed softly before pressing a kiss to my forehead. He pulled away, winking at me. “Now, last one in buys dinner.”
By the time I climbed out of the shower, I was emotionally spent. Reliving my last summer with Lucas was a mistake, but once I let the memories in, they crashed over me with more force that the water raining down on me from the shower jets.
I changed into some sweatpants and a tank top and stared at my bed. Mom must have made it up yesterday when I disappeared with Ryan. I wanted nothing more than to slip underneath the sheets and close my eyes, shutting out all the thoughts running through my head. But she’d been right. I had to try to get on with life. Even though it would be hard and I wasn’t ready to let go—to say my final goodbye—I needed to put on a brave face and live.
Even if it was a lie.
“We thought you’d be sleeping?” Mom said as I entered the living room. She and Dad sat in their favorite chairs, watching the television.
“I took a shower, and it woke me up.” I stood in the doorway, my arms wrapped around my waist, wondering if things would ever feel normal again. If people would ever stop looking at me the way Mom and Dad were right now. The pity in their eyes made me want to run. But I didn’t. I inched into the room.
“Tanner left?”
“He had to get back. Beth needed him back at their apartment.”
“Okay. What are you doing? Why aren’t you at work, Dad?”
Dad cleared his throat and leaned forward ready to speak, but Mom beat him to it. “Well, we thought it would be good for you to have us around. You know, until things settle down.” She glanced back and forth between me and my father, and I caught the subtle nod he gave her.
Was it possible that Mom was actually worried about putting her foot in it again?
“I took some time off. We’re all yours, sweetheart.”
“Dad,” I said taking a seat opposite him. “You didn’t need to do that. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I just need time.”
“We know. But we’re Austins, and well, Austins stick together.”
My lips drew into a thin line. I knew he was only trying to make me feel better, but they made it sound like I needed around-the-clock care. I wasn’t sick. I was mourning. My heart was broken. And what I needed was for everyone to back the hell off and let me deal with things the way I needed to deal with things.
“You should go back to work, Dad. Really.”
“Well, I don’t know, Mila Jean, your mom thinks-”
“I insist, Dad. I’m going to speak to Betty and see if she has any shifts I can pick up. Just a couple a week to keep me busy while I sort things out.”
And decide what to do with my life.
Lucas and I had planned to return to Radeno after graduation and take the summer off before we moved to the city and found an apartment and jobs. But now? Now, moving to Houston seemed like a dream … or a nightmare. It wasn’t an option—at least, not yet.
“Mila Jean, baby, don’t you think that-”
“No, Mom.” I leaped to my feet and rolled back my shoulders. “I need to keep busy. I know Betty, and I know the bar. It’ll be good for me. In fact, I’ll stop by later this evening and ask if she’s hiring.”
I heard Dad shut Mom down as I left the living room and headed for the kitchen in search of chips and soda. The shower had cleared my head a little, but maybe I was still drunk. The idea of asking Betty if there were any shifts open at The Lasso wasn’t even on my radar five minutes ago, but I couldn’t stand it. The way my own parents looked at me was as if they didn’t know what to do with me. And maybe getting out of the house a couple of times a week wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Nothing could be worse than being here all the damn time, could it?
~
The door to The Lasso swung open, and I stepped inside. Immediately, I wanted the ground to crack open and swallow me whole. Every head in the place trained in my direction. I could feel their pity, their judgment, and their scrutiny. Most of these people had attended Lucas's funeral and had witnessed me fleeing the service like some crazed woman.
“Well, if it isn't Mila Jean Austin. Get over here, darlin’, and give this old woman some sugar. It's been too darn long.” Betty beckoned me over to the side of the bar and relief slowly replaced the urge to turn back. Heads returned to what they had been doing before I entered the bar. That was how it worked around here. If Betty wasn't making a big deal out of things, no one else had cause to. And she wasn't treating me like a fragile child so, hopefully, no one else would.
“Hey, Betty.” I lifted a hand in a small wave as I neared the bar. She whispered something to the server, a guy I didn't recognize, and motioned for me to follow her out back.
“I didn't expect you to come around yet, darlin’. I was sorry to hear about Lucas, darn sorry. He was one of the good ones.” Betty slid her thick arms around me and squeezed.
“Thanks, Betty,” I said stepping out of her hold and wrapping my arms around my waist.
“So what brings you to The Lasso? I'm assuming you're not here for a social visit?” Her eyes roved over me. Betty always could read a face; I guessed it came with years of serving liquor to the folks of Radeno. You didn't have to say a word, and Betty Lamarie knew what was going on in your head.
“I- I wondered if you needed a spare pair of hands? Nothing more than a couple of shifts a week. Just something to keep me busy until I figure out my next move.”
“For you, darlin’, anytime. I'm shorthanded Thursday and Friday.”
If memory served me correctly, Friday was the busiest shift of the week. The color drained from my face. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea, after all.
“Now, don't be going all quiet on me. I can see what you're thinking. I wouldn't expect you to be out front serving on a Friday. Not until you're ready. But you can help out back. Pot wash, that kind of thing?”
“That would be great, Betty. Thank you so much. I just need to do something, you know?”
“Darlin’, whatever you need. There's no instruction manual for this kind of thing. Takes a whole bunch of time and then some. And I know, trust me. Now, I gotta get back to it. You'll be okay?”
I nodded. “I'll see you Thursday. Thanks again.”
As I left the bar, a sense of determination settled over me. I could do this. The Lasso was familiar, somewhere I felt comfortable. Betty wouldn't treat me any differently than she had five years ago when I waited tables and helped in the back. And if things got to be too much, she’d let me walk away with no questions asked.
No questions asked.
I liked the sound of that.
~
Thursday couldn't roll around quick enough. Being at home with my parents was suffocating. Dad returned to work as I’d asked, but Mom showered me with unwanted attention. She did have a point—I still hadn't gone to visit Carol and Peter ... or Lucas's grave.
I couldn't.
I wasn't ready.
Just the thought of it made my whole body shudder. And to make things worse, I'd heard nothing from Ryan. Not that I expected to, not after the way I left him. But deep down, part of me had hoped he’d call or turn up on my doorstep again.
What did I know? I still couldn’t think clearly. Maybe it was better this way; maybe everyone was right. Nothing good could come from the two of us finding comfort in one another. Even if the only time I felt grounded was around him.
So I wore my mask well. I pushed down my feelings and grief, bottling it away until I was alone. It was in those quiet moments that I let it free. Let the pain consume me. Let the sobs wrack my body. I let myself remember Lucas—his smile, his passion for life—and the dreams of our future together, the one we’d planned before we left for college. And in a strange way, the pain became my comfort.
Because remembering meant I would never forget.
“MILA?” CAROL GASPED
quietly as she opened the door.
It had taken me almost two weeks to muster the strength to visit them. Especially knowing how their words had affected Ryan. But they deserved an explanation, and if I was honest, I missed being around the house—it was the one place I still felt close to Lucas.
“Hi, Carol. I was hoping I could come in and talk?”
Her face softened, and she extended her hand. “Oh, honey, of course, you can. It’s so good to see you.”
I followed her into the house, and we sat in the Gennery’s living room while Peter made the three of us coffee. They were so nice and welcoming, the guilt swarming in my stomach on the walk over doubled, and with each sip of coffee, the words further lodged in my throat.
“So how’ve you been?” Peter placed down his mug and met my eyes. He looked so much like Ryan, dark and brooding. But where Ryan was hard, Peter had a softer quality to him. I wondered if it was an age thing; if maybe Peter had been the same when he was younger.
“I- I…” The words were right there, waiting to be spoken. I swallowed hard and forced them out. “I’m so sorry. The funeral, the way I acted, I’m so sorry. Forgive me, please.”
Carol was beside me in an instant, wrapping her slight arm around me. Her head pressed against my cheek as she held me, and we cried, together.
“You have nothing, nothing at all, to be sorry for, Mila. We know how much you loved our son.”
Something bolted through me. Pain. Guilt. Confusion. It was impossible to pick one emotion over the other. Because I did love Lucas—I
still
loved him. But the second she said the words, another face flashed in my mind.
Ryan.
What I felt for him wasn’t love—that much I knew. But I couldn’t deny I felt
something
for him. It made no sense. I couldn’t explain it, or even define it, but losing Lucas had tethered us in a way I never saw coming. And sitting here, part of me wanted to make Carol and Peter see how much losing Lucas had affected Ryan. That they needed to put the past behind them and be there for one another.
But I was a coward. I didn’t want to cause them any more grief. And besides, it had been four days since I left the motel, and I’d not seen or heard anything from Ryan.
“Mila.” Carol’s voice pulled me back into the room, and I sniffled, dragging my sleeve across my face.
“I just wanted to clear the air with you guys. I’ve been trying to find the right words-”
“Shh, honey, what’s done is done. We all deal with grief in our own way. It doesn’t change anything. He’ll be there whenever you’re ready to say goodbye.”
“Ho- how did you know?”
“Call it a mother’s intuition. But Mila, honey, you must know that saying goodbye to him doesn’t mean letting go. Lucas will always be with you. Always.”
Was she right? Would I be able to stand in front of his headstone and say goodbye and still remember? Was that really what terrified me? Saying goodbye was one thing, but accepting he was gone was another. Because accepting Lucas was gone was accepting that I had to live my life without him.
That I had to move on.
“I know.” My voice came out small. “I’m just not sure I’m ready. Not yet.”
“No one is rushing you, honey. You’ll know when it’s time.” Carol pressed a kiss to my cheek and squeezed my hand. “If you want to go up to his room, we’ll give you some space.”
Did I?
I glanced between Carol and Peter and nodded. “Maybe; just for a little while.”
~
Lucas’s room was silent. Just as when I’d visited in the days before the funeral, everything remained untouched. One of his Vanderbilt hoodies hung on the back of his chair, his backpack still neatly placed in the corner of the room, and his smell lingered in the air. As I sat there, perched on the edge of his bed, I half expected him to burst out of the small bathroom attached to his bedroom wrapped in a towel, his hair still damp from the water. The pain swelled in my chest, but at the same time, I found my lips curving up in a slight smile. It was a memory I had in endless quantities. Sitting on the bed, I would wait for him to take a shower before we headed out to wherever we were going—the movies, a party, or just out to the lake. I’d lived that moment over and over. He’d shake out his hair all over me, and I’d shriek trying to escape the water droplets.
Only this time he wasn’t coming.
He’d never be coming out of that door again.
Ever.
Oh, Lucas.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, biting back the tears. I didn’t want to cry again, not here. Moving from the bed, I went to the corkboard hanging above the desk. Covered with photos of our friends, his family, and us, I let my fingers run over the images, soaking in the memories. Lingering over a photo of Ryan and Lucas, I tried to place the image. Dressed in his usual jeans and black molded tee, Ryan hung his arm loosely over Lucas’s shoulder, who stared up at his older brother with a huge grin on his face. They might have been chalk and cheese, but Ryan and Lucas were close.
I’d never understood their relationship, not really. They were so different, and even though Lucas was younger, in a way, he’d always looked out for Ryan. Especially in the time leading up to when he left Radeno. But that was Lucas—he always saw the good in everyone. And Ryan was no different. Like the time he’d stolen Denby Darquette’s rusty Buick and had gone joyriding on the outskirts of town. Lucas and I were only twelve, but that didn’t stop him from trying to persuade Carol and Peter—mainly Peter—not to come down on Ryan like a ton of bricks. Or the time Ryan was arrested for fighting in his senior year. Lucas had burst into the principal’s office in defense of his brother. Trouble followed Ryan, and Lucas wasn’t ever far behind trying to help fix his big brother’s messes. Of course, it rarely made a difference; but Ryan loved Lucas for it. Loved him for seeing past the brooding, rebellious kid with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas.
Ryan was the black sheep of the Gennery family, and I'd never questioned it. It was what it was. But I'd seen a different side to Ryan the other night in the motel. I'd glimpsed a guy who was unafraid to break down and wear his heart on his sleeve. Sure, when he'd pulled back his sheets and invited me into his bed, part of me thought he wanted something else entirely. Because until losing Lucas, I'd seen Ryan as the rule-breaking bad boy everyone else in town saw him as. But we were older now, and years had passed since he left Radeno. Time could change a person.
Couldn't it?
~
When I left the Gennery's and returned home, I didn't expect to find two old friends sitting in my living room sipping tea with Mom. The way they had both jumped out of their chairs and rushed over to me would have been acceptable for old friends, given the circumstances, but Harriet Dressen and Sarah Larkin were barely my acquaintances back in high school.
“Oh, Mila Jean, we were so sorry to hear about Lucas. Isn't that right, Sarah?” Harriet drawled in a sickly sweet voice as I shot Mom an irritated look.
“Sarah and Harriet wanted to stop by and offer their condolences. Isn’t that sweet?” She shook her head curtly in my direction and then ushered the two intruders to sit again. They obliged, leaving me standing in the doorway awkwardly. The last thing I wanted to do was sit and pretend with the likes of Sarah and Harriet, but from the twinkle in Mom’s eye, I could already see the wheels turning. She thought this was just what I needed; a friend intervention. Only, I wouldn’t have been friends with the likes of these two back in high school if you paid me.
“The sweetest,” I ground out, smiling widely.
“Mila,” Mom scolded me under her breath, but I just shrugged. This wasn’t some game; it was my life.
Harriet glanced between the two of us and then shuffled forward. “We thought, Sarah and I, that you probably needed cheering up. How does a girls’ night sound?”
“Girls’ night? Are you fucking kidding me?” I threw up my hands, wide-eyed with anger bubbling under the surface, looking between the three of them. “You do know we weren’t even friends in high school, right?”
“Mila-”
“No, Mom. I have had it with people thinking they know what’s best for me. Lucas. Is. Dead. He isn’t coming back. Ever. Somehow, I don’t think a girls’ night with the mean girl sisters over there is going to make me feel better.”
Harriet gasped, and a sliver of regret started to coil around my heart. Maybe I’d been a little too harsh. I mean, I hadn’t even heard them out. For all I knew, they genuinely wanted to... No, girls like Sarah Larkin and Harriet Dressen didn’t think about anyone but themselves. No four years in college would fix that.
“Thanks for the offer.” I smirked at them both. I knew I looked ugly in that split second, but the damage was done. “But I’ll need to take a rain check. I’m sure you can appreciate how it is when you’re mourning your
dead
best friend.”
It was Mom’s turn to gasp while Sarah and Harriet sat slack-jawed staring at me as if they didn’t recognize me. Hell, I didn’t recognize myself. Who was this person?
A laugh ripped from me, and I turned and left them, heading for my room.
~
Slumped against my door, I had listened to Mom apologize on my behalf before saying goodbye to Sarah and Harriet. I waited, listening for her footsteps on the stairs, but the sound never came. She was probably too embarrassed—or angry—to face me right now.
And I didn’t blame her.
I thought I’d gotten a better hold on my emotions. I’d made some kind of peace with Carol and Peter and made an effort to visit Betty at The Lasso. And I hadn’t seen Ryan again. Although that was more his choice than mine. I was doing better.
Since losing Lucas, something had changed in me, but I didn’t know what exactly. I didn’t want to think about it. But something ugly was growing inside me. Maybe it was simply the anger phase of grieving. Maybe lashing out at those around me was my way of working through stuff.
But they deserved it,
a little voice whispered. So Sarah and Harriet weren’t exactly my BFFs in high school. They ran with the popular crowd, while I stuck to Lucas and our small group of friends. But time could change people—I’d said it about Ryan, hadn’t I? Maybe they genuinely wanted to offer their condolences and offer their friendship.
Frustrated, I curled my hand into my hair and yanked slightly. Why did I even care what their motives were? Lucas was gone, and nothing was going to change that. Making friends with Sarah and Harriet, finding comfort in Ryan, picking up shifts at the bar—none of it mattered.
Because losing your best friend in the entire world
did
change you.
And now, I had to figure out who
I
was without him.