CHAPTER 21 #3
“Growing up, Gretch and I spent a lot of time with our grandparents, my father’s parents,” he continued.
“We lived with them. They had money. Lots of it. A mansion, butler, housekeeper. All that shit. The house was huge. I remember some days I wouldn’t see my mother or my father at all, even though I knew they were there.
“My mother was in and out of mental hospitals, mostly at my grandfather’s insistence.
He said my mother needed the sort of help we couldn’t give her.
Not even the nurses he’d hired to help my father deal with her.
My father loved her to distraction, enabled her, refused to listen to reason.
Sometimes I didn’t understand why, because she wasn’t a nice woman much of the time. But when she was … she was great.”
He took a long pull of his beer, exhaled.
“I remember my grandfather trying to convince my father to have her committed permanently, said it was the best thing for everyone. My father was so pissed. They argued, and my father vowed never to let them see me or Gretch again. I was fourteen. Gretch was seventeen, I think, about to graduate from high school. My grandfather knew we wouldn’t be safe if my father took us away from there, so he gave in. Promised to help in any way he could.
“So he did. For the next couple of years, he supported my father. My mother stayed in the hospital for longer that time, almost a year. My father insisted she was getting better, said the medication was working, and he wanted her to come home. He wanted her to spend some time with me before I graduated. I didn’t think it was so much about me, though.
More that he was lonely, so I defended him when my grandfather argued.
Offered to help out when they needed me. ”
Jamie squeezed my hand, but neither of us moved as Edge continued to stare at the wall of windows.
“It worked for a little while. My mother came home. I was a junior in high school, had my own car. My grandfather had started pitching in, too, helping more after my grandmother passed away. I could tell he didn’t like my mother being in the house.
She scared him. She was often paranoid, and it took effort to get her settled.
But my father was happier, so my grandfather and I agreed to make it work. ”
Edge paused. I knew how this story ended, and it was a tragic tale, one that had broken my heart when I’d originally heard it many years ago.
“I left for school one morning.” Edge’s voice was deeper, angrier.
“It was a Friday. I remember thinking I wanted to spend the weekend somewhere else, somewhere I didn’t have to endure all the arguments, the fighting.
My mother was having a particularly bad day, had thrown something at the housekeeper.
My father and grandfather were arguing. I never asked to stay at a friend’s, but I did that day.
I’d needed the break from them. The last thing I heard was my grandfather insisting he was going to have my mother committed again. Said it was the only safe thing to do.”
When Edge paused this time, Jamie got to her feet, walked toward him. He didn’t look her way, didn’t even flinch when she wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“I stayed at a friend’s house that night.
Didn’t come home after school because I didn’t want to hear it anymore.
Gretchen called me, asked if I was at home.
Said she needed to talk to Dad, but he wasn’t answering.
I told her about the argument, said I wasn’t going home until Sunday night. I needed a break.”
Edge took a deep breath, and he shuddered when he exhaled.
“Gretchen called me again that afternoon, told me I needed to go home, to have Dad call her immediately. It was important. I didn’t ask her why, didn’t care. Still don’t know what it was about.”
He swallowed hard, set the beer on the counter.
“I walked in and found my father and grandfather dead in the living room. The house was a wreck. Broken glass, torn furniture, the curtains hanging off the windows. My mother was in the kitchen, on the floor in a pool of blood, the gun still in her hand. From what the police said, she’d shot them both, then destroyed the house before putting the gun to her own head and pulling the trigger. ”
“Oh, God,” Jamie whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Edge turned, put his arms around her, and held her tightly. I watched, unable to move.
“She was sick,” he muttered. “We all knew it, but we pretended it didn’t matter, that we could handle it on our own. Gretch did research on the disease, said it was genetic, that one or both of us could have it.”
I hadn’t heard this before, so I got to my feet, moved to stand beside them in the kitchen.
Edge met my eyes. “I’ve had this voice in my head for the longest time. Thought maybe I was going insane, too.”
I didn’t look away. Couldn’t.
“I ignored it, fought it. Did the opposite of what it was telling me to do.”
Jamie pulled back, stared up at him.
“It wasn’t telling me to do specific things. More like to let things go, to stop fighting myself. Nothing harmful.”
“Your conscience,” Jamie whispered. “Not a voice.”
He smiled. “Yeah. It took me a long time to realize that. You, actually,” he said, “both of you. When I accepted what I really wanted, to love you both, it disappeared completely.”
“You’re not crazy,” I told him, stepping closer and sliding my hand around his head, pulling his mouth to mine.
“No,” he said softly. “Not in the technical term. But I am crazy about the two of you.”
“Ditto,” I whispered, smiling against his mouth.
“Hey,” Jamie said in a huff. “Care to include me in this mushy moment?”
She broke the tension in that instant. Edge reached for her, lifting her off her feet and setting her on the counter.
“I love you,” he said as he leaned in, pressed his forehead to hers.
“I love you, too.”
“What am I?” I harrumphed. “Chopped liver?”
Edge threw his arm around me, jerked me forward, and crushed his mouth to mine. When he released me, Jamie did the same.
“I quit the club,” Edge blurted.
Jamie and I drew back at the same time, staring at him. He could clearly see our confusion because he continued.
“I talked to Trent. Decided it was best to resign my position. I’ll stay on until he fills the spot. I’ve been getting in my own way for too long, trying to structure a world that I fit in, rather than fitting in the world I want.”
Jamie stepped up, cupped his face. “Whatever makes you happy… That’s what I want.”
He kissed her gently, and I could see he had needed that approval.
“You know what I want?” I asked when the moment had passed and the tension had fully dissipated.
“What’s that?” Jamie asked.
“I think I’m gonna take a shower. Thought maybe when I got out, I might stumble across something happening”—I pointed toward the sofa—“over there.”
“Something?” Edge probed.
“Something hot,” I clarified.
“Well, I was thinking maybe the three of us should take a shower,” Jamie said with a grin. “Maybe something hot could happen in there.”
Edge reached for her. “I like your suggestion better,” he told her before looking my way. “And yours … we’ll work on that tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
I definitely liked the sound of that.
A lot of tomorrows.