25. Leo
Wrapped in my arms, Mari whispered secrets long into the night. A type of adolescent hope and hormones drove me, overpowering any desire to sleep or miss a moment. Her eyes shone with hope as she detailed her family’s possible visit over the holidays. Her throat grew tight and her eyes gleamed as she shared how when her brothers went off to college, she would sometimes stay in their room just to feel close to them. She talked about many lonely afternoons after school, and I wished I could have known her then, just to be a person she could count on.
“It never occurred to me that my parents would move after we all went off to college. I assumed we would be one of those families that all came together for the holidays to the same loud house I grew up in, filled with children running around and too much food.” Her voice cracked, and I held her tighter, brushing my lips against her temple. My heart ached for the hurt of young, lonely Mari, and I vowed she would never feel alone so long as she let me be around.
“I know all families are different, but did you ever want that?” she asked.
“Maybe. Sometimes I wondered about my birth family. But growing up, Janice and I were one of the most stable family units I knew. I thought we had the best arrangement because it would break the peace once too many people got involved. Only recently have I started to wonder if it was enough for Janice.”
If I had been enough for Janice. Breathing became difficult, and my palms itched, so I changed the topic to Mari’s family. We drifted in and out of sleep until around midnight, when we decided we should probably leave. I drove her to her apartment. She dragged me upstairs and into her bed. She tucked herself into my open arms, and we slept until the alarm went off all too soon.
I woke up to her warmth and sleepy smile. It was enough to make me break out in song on Main Street.
The day continued like all the others had, except I got to be the first person she saw and shared her smile with. We went to Daisy’s as normal. It wasn’t weird or awkward. She was Mari, except now it was Mari with bonus hand-holding. And when we got to school, she leaned over and kissed me goodbye. Even if Pin Dick gave us the side-eye as he walked past, I couldn’t be bothered. I was floating on air, as the taste and smell of her lingered on my skin.
I wasn’t sure what this development meant for our future, and the desire for clarification was on the tip of my tongue all morning, but I wouldn’t rush her. I wasn’t going anywhere. We had time.
When she walked away, the car was too quiet. She took the joy with her. The conversation from the night before settled into my shoulders. Seeing Vander had been such a jolt, and now I was alone with my thoughts. Vander had been the one person I saw almost every day, completely intertwined with my life, only to be gone in a moment.
Imagine my surprise when I pulled up to the house to find Vander sitting on the front porch laughing with Janice. My palms went sweaty instantly. They saw me pull into the driveway. Otherwise, I might have been tempted to keep driving and pretend I never saw him. There was no avoiding it. No Mari to keep me safe. Only Janice waving all too eagerly.
Then I thought of Mari’s tenacity, the full force with which she approached problems. She wouldn’t avoid this any longer, and neither would I.
I parked the car, took a steadying breath, and walked to the front porch.
“Look who’s doing the walk of shame,” Janice called.
“Super inappropriate, Janice.” I squinted in the early morning sun as I came around the corner.
She shrugged, looking all too pleased with herself. Vander ran a hand over his long beard to hide a creeping smile.
“Unless you would like to start delving into both of our free time activities?” I taunted.
Janice stood and stretched. “I have places to be. I’ll bring the car back before you need to get Mari later.”
Vander stood too, hugging her goodbye. “Nice to see you,” he said.
“Nice to see you too, love.” She patted his cheek fondly.
It wasn’t the first time I wondered how the loss of our friendship impacted my mom. The maternal smile on her face told me that she had missed the man who was like my brother.
I hugged my mom and kissed her cheek. “Just listen to him,” she whispered in my ear.
I glanced up to see Vander staring at his shoes, now seated again, forearms on his knees.
“Have a good day. Care to tell me where you’re going?” I asked.
“Nope.” She waved her fingers as she rounded to the side of the house.
After she backed out and waved goodbye again, I moved to sit across from Vander.
The air was thick with silence. How does one start a conversation with their former best friend after months of silence?
Vander didn’t lift his head, but said, “I think your neighbor is watching us.”
“Yeah. She’s a little creeper, but she’s cool.” I lifted a hand and waved it at Clara, who pretended to water her potted perennials. She waved back, not even trying to hide her eavesdropping.
“Seems like a lot has changed around here, huh?” he asked.
I thought of my past few months in Green Valley. How wrong I’d been when I returned. How Mari had shown me all the ways this town had grown. There were still small minds and those clinging to old ways, but there had also been so much growth and a sense of pride woven into so many things. I found myself looking forward to things like the Christmas Market in a few weeks and her band’s winter solstice performance. The concert band had been practicing Tchaikovsky so much that I found myself humming it as I prepared the garden for winter or cooked a new recipe.
“Yeah,” I said, ever the great conversationalist. He cleared his throat. I had so much I wanted to say, but my worst-case-scenario brain was hard at work, muddling the words before they could make it out of my mouth.
I thought of Mari last night in my arms and the look on her face. She had been right. I’d been holding on to this pain for too long. It was time to clear the air, regardless of the fear.
“I’m sorry,” I said, throat tight.
When I mustered the courage to meet Vander’s gaze, he stared at me, mouth parted.
“The way things ended was so fucked,” I said.
He started to speak, but I held up a hand. “I think I just need to get this all out.” He swallowed with a nod, and I went on. “I was not happy. I should have been happy, though, you know? And grateful. But I wasn’t. And the more unhappy I was, the more I beat myself up for not being thankful for all we had. I should have wanted the success, fans, and attention, but it was like I-I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was playing a character of a rock star. I didn’t know who I was.”
The words, stuck at first, poured out of me. Vander listened without interrupting, his brows pinched with focus.
“The worst part is that toward the end, when I started to lash out”—I took a bracing swallow—“I think on some level I did it all subconsciously just so you would fire me.” I let out a long breath. My foot bounced, shaking the whole porch. Saying this out loud made me feel even more like a failure. This was exactly why we didn’t have hard conversations. This was why it was easier to sweep things under the rug...Until they reached a boiling point, and I exploded on stage.
Okay, I saw Mari’s point.
Vander swallowed, his thick beard moving with the action. “I know,” he said.
I blinked at him. “What?”
“I knew you were miserable, man. And I hated seeing you like that. I’m so sorry.” He sucked in his lips and rubbed at his mouth. The action was so familiar to me. Even with the rock star look, he was still the kid I knew.
“It’s not your fault I couldn’t handle the pressure,” I said.
“But it is.” He rubbed his lips in thought before he spoke. “I have shit to get off my chest too. The whole reason we even started the band was because of me. I was the reason we went on tour and signed to the big label. It was my dream, my desperate need to prove something to this town and to the people here. You only ever supported me and my dreams. You made them your own. But I think I knew, even as a dumbass kid, that it wasn’t what you wanted.”
“I—” I tried to swallow, but my throat was too tight. My heart raced with relief but also more fear. I struggled to keep up with this revelation that we’d both been beating ourselves up. “I was just as desperate to leave.”
He nodded. “True, but more than that, you wanted to support me. You always went along with any wild idea I had. I got you in trouble all the time.”
“You protected me from guys who wanted to hurt me,” I defended.
He nodded, but it morphed into a headshake. “But still. I just pushed and pushed you. When our success started coming so fast, I said yes to everything. I saw that it was taking its toll on you, but I couldn’t stop.”
I sat still and absorbed.
“You never liked the limelight. I was always speaking for you and telling us both what we wanted, and man, I had something to prove. But you know, if you aren’t happy, all the money and fame won’t suddenly make that better. That’s a tough realization to have at this point.” He scoffed.
“I had no idea,” I said.
“You wouldn’t because...” He gnawed at his thumb before tucking it away. “I knew you would stay for me. No matter how bad it was, I knew you would never quit.” His eyes closed and his nostrils flared. “Because you were just that loyal. And I was so stupid and selfish. I should have just said something, but I thought maybe if it seemed like you didn’t have a choice in leaving, it would be easier for you somehow. If you were angry...then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad. That you weren’t letting me down.”
I leaned forward, hand over my mouth. This was insane. I thought I had cursed myself to a lifetime of loneliness. That I was somehow a bad friend or person.
But so did he. He’d been beating himself up and tormenting himself just as much as I had. Maybe even missing me as much as I had missed him.
“I’ve wanted to apologize for everything for so long.” My voice cracked.
“You have never let me down,” he said, holding my gaze with ferocity. “Not once in our whole lives. Just so we’re clear.”
Heat burned the back of my eyes as I nodded at him. “Okay.” I broke his gaze to clear my throat. “We probably should have talked about this a long time ago.”
He laughed. “Probably. Being a guy doesn’t exactly come with an instruction manual on communication. Especially if you were never taught how,” he said with a hint of bitterness.
“What are you talking about? Us men love being vulnerable,” I said flatly. I leaned back and groaned. “I wish I’d known all this before my dramatic exit,” I admitted.
He chuckled without humor. “When I saw you last night, and met Cath and Mari, I thought maybe, even though I went about it a total shit way, that you were finding something like...happiness here?”
“Yes.” I didn’t have to think about it. “I admit that I haven’t been doing good the past year, but recently, I’m starting to live again.”
Vander smiled in genuine relief. “Good. Mari seems great,” he said.
“She is.” I didn’t elaborate that things were tenuous and new. I didn’t want to try to label it and risk jinxing it, but no doubt her arrival on my lawn was when my life started to change for the better. This conversation with Vander was because of her. “I didn’t think we would ever be back here in Green Valley.” I laughed.
“And here we sit,” Vander said.
“Why did you come back?” I asked.
“I think when I saw you, it really made me understand the guilt I was holding on to. I’ve been...struggling lately. Creatively. Emotionally. Someone told me recently that I need to ‘sort my shit,’ and I think she may be right.”
“Women,” I said.
“Exactly. But I have all this guilt for the way things ended. Maybe on some level, I came back here to try to fix some things.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, man. You can let yourself off the hook.”
“It’s not just that,” he said.
His gaze went cloudy as he looked into the distance, but he didn’t go on. More than once, Vander stayed with us after showing up in the middle of the night. He never let me know the extent of what was happening or tell Janice because our place was his safe space.
“The record isn’t going well?” I ventured.
“I’m just tired,” he said. And with that confession, the bags under his eyes seemed more pronounced, his shoulders hunched with weariness.
“Take a damn break,” I said, hating to see him like this. “You’ve been going nonstop for over ten years. You’re getting old. Your body and soul need to rest,” I suggested, and he narrowed his eyes. “I know a ton about gardening now if you’re looking for a new hobby.”
His pretend hurt melted into a grin as he admired the yard.
“Come back in the spring or summer and see it in all its glory.”
His head shot to me. “Really?”
I hadn’t thought about what the invitation would mean after all this time. It had just slipped out. Because I wanted it and meant it. “Green Valley would be a great place for a tour stop.”
He laughed. “The Burnouts and Mrs. McIntyre’s famous coleslaw. What’s not to love?” He let out a sigh and relaxed back. “Well, at this rate, we may never leave. This album seems to be cursed. I won’t go into the details, and our social media director has been doing her best to keep the fans at bay. I don’t suppose you’re following any of The Burnouts news?”
He looked up at me, and whatever he saw on my face confirmed that I was definitely not. “Right. Understandable. But among a series of unfortunate events, now we are down a drummer.”
I stiffened. A sudden panic clawed at my throat. If he asked me to go back on the road, would I be able to tell him no? Just these few minutes of conversation had brought something back into my life I didn’t even know I’d been missing. Or, at the very least, was unwilling to admit. And I felt myself wanting to please him.
But then I pictured Mari and Cath and Janice and bunco and my garden and this town.
“I can’t go back,” I said flatly. I couldn’t do that to Mari or to Cath...but especially not to myself. I’d just started to build something like a life here. Mari would be proud that I said what I wanted at the moment.
“Fuck no, man!” I sat up at his exclamation. Clara made a sound across the street. He lowered his voice and leaned in to hold my gaze. “You think I would ask you after the conversation we just had? Listen, I know I’m an egotistical singer-songwriter, but I have changed some.”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be. We said our sorries. Let’s just, I dunno, promise to talk more?” he asked hopefully.
“Good plan.”
“And I wasn’t expecting you to tour or anything. Maybe just laying some tracks until our drummer is back. Or even Cath? It wouldn’t hurt for us to have some fresh blood in there. She was rad, man.”
“She’s not eighteen yet. But I can’t wait to tell her you said that and watch her freak out.” Maybe I shouldn’t tell her.
“Think about it,” he said. “We want to be done so we can go home to our families for Christmas. Or at least, that’s what everyone else will be doing.” He said it jokingly but didn’t meet my eyes.
“I’ll think about it. Slow gardening season after all. But, uh, if you’re still here for Christmas and stuff, Janice would have my head if I didn’t invite you for dinner. You know how she is.”
Vander’s eyes lit up. “Does she still make those little cheese-stuffed mushroom things?”
“She does. But I do most of the cooking now.”
His eyebrows shot up, impressed. “You always were a good cook.”
“Uh, thanks.” I scratched the back of my neck. “But yeah, just go ahead and assume you’re always welcome here. For any holiday,” I said, and inexplicably, my throat tightened.
I stood quickly. “I better go.” I thumbed toward the house.
At the same time, he stood and brushed his hands on his jeans. “I better get back to the studio.”
We looked at each other and then burst out laughing. “Not at all awkward.”
“Toxic masculinity, my ass. Come here,” Vander said as he pulled me into a hug.
It wasn’t even lunch, and this was one of the best days I’d had in a long time.