Epilogue
Susie
Within ten minutes, I know where we are as we approach Liz’s house. He pulls into the dirt driveway.
“What are you doing? Why are we here? I thought we were going to your?—”
He cuts off my panicked rambling. “Her father isn’t here. He’s in the hospital.”
I blow out a breath. I should be ashamed that I’m glad, but I don’t feel it.
He squeezes my hand. “Mom isn’t ready to see me.”
He pauses. “I called Liz, and she is ready to see me.”
“But not ready to see me.”
“We’ll find out,”
he says, erasing all the joy until I feel nothing but guilty and helpless, like a mean lamb being brought, rightfully, to the slaughter.
Liz answers the door, and we all stand there, mute, looking at each other, or she’s looking at Bryan while I look at her.
Then she smiles, but I see the small tremor in her mouth. She opens the door wide, turning inside. “Look who’s here, Wally.”
A young boy, the one I remember seeing at the football game, comes barreling past her like she’s a revolving door and hurls himself at Bryan. He’s ready for the impact, reaching down to hug the boy.
“Take it easy, Wally,”
he whispers, soothing him, holding on tight as the boy cries.
“I thought I’d never see you again. I told your mom I was going to run away.”
He swipes at his tears and backs off, looking chagrined. “She said you’d be back.”
“Come inside,”
Liz says in a gentle voice. She hasn’t met my eyes yet, staying focused on Bryan, almost like she’s worried about him being upset with her.
He puts his hand on the small of my back, and we follow Liz and Wally into the old kitchen, instantly familiar to me. I remember baking a cake here—or attempting to—while Liz’s parents were gone because she had a craving for chocolate cake.
“Liz,”
I say, not knowing what to say next.
She turns to me, finally meeting my stare. “Congratulations.”
She’s not smiling, but she’s not giving me a death stare either.
“Thank you,”
I say automatically, not exactly understanding what she’s congratulating me for.
When her eyes dart to my hand, my ring finger, I get it and automatically tuck my hand away self-consciously. Shit.
Then she smiles at me. “Let me see the ring. It’s okay. Bryan told me. He told me everything.”
The way she says everything disquiets me, and I dart a glance at him, but he says nothing. Wally breaks the awkward tension, smiling and grabbing my hand.
“Yeah, let’s see. I heard you were engaged. That’s so cool.”
He checks out my ring thoroughly. He clears his throat and says, “Welcome to the family.”
Grinning, he adds, “That’s what my aunt told me to say.”
He moves aside when Liz prods him, and she takes my hand.
I almost flinch, and she darts her eyes at me. “It’s a beautiful ring.”
She squeezes my hand and then lets go. I don’t have a chance to squeeze back, but it was enough for me to hope there might be forgiveness underneath her civility, more than just a truce.
“How are you?”
she asks Bryan.
He stands there, stoic, with Wally plastered to his side, looking up at him like he’s a god come down from Mount Olympus.
“Too many things to say.”
I expected him to merely grunt.
“Let’s go watch the news,”
Wally says. “I think they’re going to talk about you on the sports—about you getting drafted. I saw them interview Coach Torini earlier. How come you didn’t let them interview you?”
“I’ve been busy.”
Bryan flicks a glance at me, and I see the softness flare in his eyes before he turns away.
Wally drags him and he drags me to the McNeil’s living room with the old black-and-white console TV going and her father’s ratty lopsided chair facing it. Wally jumps into the chair and Liz flinches. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but then she closes it and looks away.
I touch her shoulder. “How’s your dad?”
She turns to me and her eyes are sad. “Pathetic. He’s old and broken down as if he’s eighty years old. And whether he lives or dies only matters because we’re surviving on his disability income.”
Before I think, I let go of Bryan and put my arms around Liz in a hug. She accepts it, but doesn’t hug back and it feels so strange, so un-Liz-like. She tenses and if I didn’t feel the thudding of her heart in her chest, I would think she was unaffected by me.
I let her go. “Maybe we should leave,” I say.
She nods. “First, I want to let you know I’m happy for Bryan, that he’s happy.”
She smiles at him, her eyes glittery with unshed tears, and clears her throat.
When she meets my eyes again, her smile is gone. “But I wish it wasn’t you… I’m sorry.”
“Liz—”
Bryan says, putting a protective arm around me and pulling me to him.
“It’s okay,”
I say. “Understandable.”
I gulp down my disappointment, feeling foolish for hoping for too much.
The tumor of emotions clogs my throat, but I speak anyway, in a tremulous voice. “What about you, Liz? I want you to be happy?—”
Tears start running down my cheeks as I resist the urge to hug her again. My chest is too tight to say a word for a few seconds, almost too tight to breathe.
Bryan whispers, “Let’s go.”
I hear the strain of concern in his voice as he moves, but I hold back.
Breaking free from Bryan’s protective arms, I force myself to say what’s in my heart. “Promise me you’ll find some special man to love you like you deserve, Liz, and that you’ll let him, and not settle for anything less than to be adored and treasured; then I’ll be truly happy. I’ll always be your sister. Soul sister.”
I give a self-deprecating eye roll and smile at daring to relate us to Patti LaBelle’s song, “Lady Marmalade”.
She nods and holds her arms around herself, like she needs to protect herself from me, to maintain her defenses. She darts her eyes to Bryan when he steps forward and takes hold of me again, pulling me back to him as he retreats.
When I see her tears spill over down her cheeks, I want to scream, to erase everything—until Bryan whispers, “Come with me.”
Wally follows us to the back door and begs Bryan to take him with us.
“You have school. We all have school.”
“Not you, Bryan. You’re an NFL player now.”
“Not yet, kid.”
He lifts Wally into the air when we get outside and swings him around as the kid laughs and laughs. When Bryan returns his little cousin to the ground, he says, “I’ll give you a ride home.”
Wally shakes his head. “The farm? It’s not home anymore. We’re packing up. We need to be out of there right away.”
Bryan freezes at his words, then takes Wally’s hand and bundles him into the back seat.
“Then we better get you there right away.”
I get in the car, and I can’t imagine what’s on Bryan’s mind. Even if he wanted to tell me, which is debatable, he wouldn’t say anything in front of Wally. When he starts the car, I put my hand on his and whisper, “Are you sure we should go there? Your mom?—”
“I’ll drop him off. I won’t go inside.”
His jaw clenches, and the muscles twitch.
When we get there, I hide my reaction to the dilapidated state of his house. Or I try to.
Bryan snorts as he gets out. “Wait 'til you see the inside.”
Now I’m worried. “I thought you said…”
I don’t bother finishing my sentence as I get out of the car and scramble to keep up with him and Wally.
The kid runs ahead, yelling, “Auntie, look who’s here!”
I catch up to Bryan before we reach the back porch steps, and he takes my hand, holding tight.
When his mother—I assume it’s his mother, but the resemblance is only slight, except she’s tall and broad-shouldered like him—comes outside, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.
Her hand covers her mouth, and her eyes look ravaged by grief and maybe life in general, hollow and dark.
“I thought I?—”
“I wanted to come home. One last time. Before it’s all gone.”
She nods and turns away, covering her eyes. Bryan lets go of my hand and goes to her. Wally jumps back down the steps and comes to my side. I automatically put a hand on his shoulder and hold him close.
“Mom.”
She turns to him, eyes streaming with tears, and I struggle to keep from crying in empathy.
“You… look so much like him. In his better years. How I want to remember him.”
“I know. I don’t mind.”
She snorts. “You’re a lot like him.”
“We’ll see. Maybe I can handle setbacks better than him.”
She nods. “You can. You are.”
She peers past Bryan and looks straight at me.
I smile.
“You must be the young lady.”
“Mom, this is Susie Bennett. The love of my life, the woman I’m marrying.”
She nods and swipes at her cheeks, a small smile bending her mouth. “Where are my manners? Come inside. Have some coffee.”
Bryan shakes his head. “Not today?—”
I rush up the steps, surprising her. “I’m so happy to meet you, and I wish with all my heart the circumstances were different.”
I take her in a hug, giving her no choice, though I know she’s reluctant.
“Oh my. You’re sweet.”
She flashes a grin up at her son and nods. “You’ve done well.”
“I have. But so have you. You have me, don’t you?”
She laughs. “There’s my son, the boy with the big talk like you used to be.”
My eyes widen, and I look accusingly at Bryan, wondering what else he has hidden in his past. A burst of anticipation at finding out gives me a rush of pleasure.
“Call me when you get settled at Aunt Sophie’s. I’ll be around for a couple more months to finish out the semester before I need to report to training camp for rookies.”
“All the way in California,”
she says wistfully.
“You’ll come visit us,”
I say, sure about it. They both look at me.
Wally says, “Me too. I want to move to California with you.”
“You’re staying right here with me, and don’t you forget it,”
Bryan’s mom says, tucking Wally under her arm. He squirms a little, but I see the acceptance, the reciprocated love.
We leave, and I’m exhausted.
“Where are we going now?”
I ask, not really caring as dusk settles.
“I’m returning Eldy’s car.”
“We’re going to Greenwich?”
“Nope. We’re going back to UConn.”
He looks at me. “You have a problem with that?”
I laugh. “No, not at all.”
I lace my fingers with his and don’t care that all my clothes are at my aunt’s house, that all I have is what I packed for my short stay in California—summer shorts and tops. I don’t even care that my parents will be scandalized when I tell them I’m staying with Bryan.
“I have to call my parents when we get to your apartment.”
“Our apartment.”
I laugh because everything is laced with joy right now, even the tragedies. “When does training camp start?”
“At the end of the semester. I’ll need to take my finals early, but coach said he’d help me arrange that. You should come out this summer after training camp.”
I nod. “That’s the smart, sensible thing to do.”
“But?”
I laugh yet again. “I’m not feeling very sensible. I only know I want to be wherever you are.”
“I don’t think we have a uniform and set of pads that’ll fit you.”
He looks me up and down like he’s measuring me, perfectly serious. I laugh and lean my head on his shoulder.
“You’re so… perfect, farm boy.”
He laughs. It’s the kind of laughter I’ve never heard from him before, happy and grateful and full and authentic down to the bone.
“So are you, princess.”
# THE END #