29. Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
W hen my alarm goes off Friday morning, I wake up exhausted. No sleep badges were earned last night. I'd tossed and turned in anticipation of today, torn between avoiding sad emotions and supporting the man I love.
I’ve alerted Kent that I won’t be at staff meeting today and canceled the rest of my commitments. I make an expeditious trip to the grocery store first thing when I get up. Then, after taking a solemn shower and quickly getting dressed, I text Brooks.
Are you sure you don’t want me to drive today? I’d be happy to
brOOKS
It’s ok. I can drive. Be there in 10
I’m waiting on the driveway when Brooks arrives. Quickly tossing my small duffel bag and winter coat in the back seat, I open the passenger door before he can get out of the car.
“Hey,” I greet, tone even.
“Hey,” he responds, tone tipping to the depressed side of even.
I feel out what’s needed for the trip as we drive out of town. Brooks has a playlist going, but we’re pretty much silent during the fifteen-minute drive to the highway heading to KC. He fidgets in his seat, his hands moving from tapping the steering wheel to rubbing his face to leaning an elbow against the window.
Good thing I came prepared .
“I found this podcast called Revisionist History that shares interesting but overlooked stories from history. It sounded like something you might enjoy—would you want to listen to an episode?” I ask. I’m carefully watching Brooks’ face to gauge his reaction, in case I need to pull out the Trolls soundtrack instead.
“Sure. That does sound interesting,” he replies, looking genuinely intrigued. I breathe a sigh of relief at having something to distract our thoughts for the few hours we’ll be driving. Brooks hands me his phone, and I pull up the podcast on Spotify, quickly searching for the episode about Hitler’s Olympics. There are nine episodes in the series, so we’ll have plenty of distraction material if this hooks Brooks’ interest.
I’m willing to embrace boring history if it means keeping his mind off of where we’re heading.
Luckily, the engaging podcast captures our attention. After the first episode, I reach to the back of the car and pull out my other secret distraction weapon. “Reese’s Pieces or Bugles?” I ask.
A hint of a smile crosses Brooks’ lips, which feels like I achieved Olympic podium status. “Bugles. I can’t do any sugar right now.”
I tear open the bag, and Brooks holds out his hand for me to place five Bugles on his fingertips. Just like old times.
Between the podcast and snacks, the drive to Lee’s Summit passes by in no time. We pull into the driveway of a house I don’t recognize. But, of course, it makes sense that Brooks’ dad wouldn’t want to stay in the house he shared with Angela. Especially with Brooks and Steven grown and no longer living there.
Still, it breaks my heart a little for all of them. And for all of the memories I have from their old house. Sitting at the kitchen table while Angela blasted Tina Turner and cooked dinner—with Brooks goofing off or flirting with me instead of doing his homework. Movie nights in the living room. Game nights in the basement with the basketball and dance teams. Brooks’ parents were always fully stocked with snacks and constantly adding to the collection of gaming tables. They were successful in their mission to entice all the high schoolers to hang out there under the casual supervision of “Papa and Mama Murph. ”
I think I accidentally entered a vacuum chamber. My body suddenly feels deprived of air. My breathing turns panicked as I try to fight off the cage bars slowly extending around my thoughts.
Don’t think about it. You need to be there for Brooks. He’s got to be feeling a thousand times worse. Pull it together for him. You’re on a beach. You’re floating on top of the gentle waves of the sea. You’re not trapped in the sadness of Angela’s absence. Fly above it.
Brooks’ face is tight as he turns the car off and takes a deep breath. He’s silent as we exit the vehicle and walk up to the front porch.
His dad, Steven Sr., opens the door at our approach. In the span of a second, his eyes soften at Brooks’ expression and then light up looking at me.
“Teegan! Brooks told me y’all were dating, but he didn’t say you’d be coming today,” he says as he steps toward me. He envelops me in a hug.
“Hi, Mr. Murphy,” I greet, hugging him back. “It was last minute, but I insisted on coming.”
He lingers in the hug a moment longer, murmuring, “Thank you, sweetheart.” Then he draws back to look at me, holding me by the shoulders and taking me in. “It’s so great to see you. You’re exactly the same—but a grown-up version of the Teegan we knew and loved. Which means you can drop the ‘Mr. Murphy’ title since you’re not a teenager anymore. Call me Steve. Otherwise, Steven will be chiming in all day long,” he adds with a grin.
“So, what’s this? I bring Teegan along, and suddenly I’m invisible?” Brooks jokes. He’s forced lightness into his tone, but this smile doesn’t make his eyes light up like his real smile does. Steve shifts to hug Brooks, giving him a tight squeeze as well. Brooks claps him on the back in an obvious move to escape the emotional embrace. Or, obvious to me, at least.
I slip my hand into Brooks’.
“Speaking of Steven, when are he and Julie arriving?” Brooks asks.
“They’re meeting us at the lake,” Steve responds. “They decided to get an AirBnb out there last night.”
“Lake Lotawana?” I ask. Brooks’ family always took multiple vacations there. Well, vacation might not be quite the right term, considering it’s only about twenty minutes from Lee’s Summit. There was a small cabin on the lake they used to rent multiple times a year. I tagged along on one of their summer trips, enjoying the sight of Brooks water skiing while I sunbathed on the rental boat.
Steve smiles. “Good memory, Teegan. Yes—we all agreed that Angela would have loved for the lake to be her final resting place. She enjoyed being there more than the rest of us combined.”
Brooks’ thumb is manically fidgeting with my fingers, so I reach my other hand over to clasp around his. “That’s really special. That’s exactly what she would love,” I say to Steve as I squeeze Brooks’ hand.
“We’d better hit the road over there,” Steve says. “Want to ride with me in my car?”
“Nah, I can drive us over in mine,” Brooks quickly responds. I know he wants the distraction of driving rather than riding as a passenger.
“You ride up front, Mr. Mur—Steve,” I interject. “I’ll sit in the back! Could I run in to the bathroom before we leave?”
I take an extra moment in the bathroom to collect my emotions. I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of contrasting reactions I’m experiencing. Sadness I expected. But seeing Brooks’ dad again filled me with joy—a nostalgic, coming-home sensation. That feeling only made Angela’s absence a deeper, bigger hole. And I feel regret that I never got to say goodbye to her. Bitterness that she died thinking that Brooks and I were over forever. Gratitude that we weren’t over forever and that Steve gets to see this full-circle moment.
“How do we handle today?” I ask my reflection in the mirror. My natural inclination is to be the positive, bright spot of the day. To try to cheer everyone up with sunshine and rainbows.
But the grief feels too gray. Once again, I fight off the urge to walk out the door and avoid this altogether. “Don’t make Brooks face this alone, Teegan,” I whisper to myself. “Get back out there.”
As we drive to the lake, I keep up a steady stream of conversation with Steve so Brooks doesn’t have to talk. I fill him in on the years of my life he missed, throwing in as many light-hearted stories as possible.
We pull into a parking area by Lake Lotawana where Steven and his wife are waiting for us. When I step out of the car, Steven’s eyes widen with recognition. His smile tightens slightly, looking like he’s trying not to cry. “Hi, Steven,” I say with a small wave.
He steps forward and gives me a quick hug. “Thanks for being here for him,” he whispers quickly before drawing back and holding an arm out to his wife. “Teegan, this is my wife, Julie.”
“It’s great to meet you, Teegan,” Julie says before also pulling me into a short hug around the large bouquet of forget-me-not flowers she’s holding. “I’ve heard wonderful things.”
“I’m excited to get to know you,” I respond. Brooks has come to stand next to me after hugging Steven, so I take his hand again.
Steve leads the way on a path around the lake until we reach a bench with a small tree planted behind it. There’s a plaque on the bench that reads: For Angela Murphy. You were simply the best of us.
My throat tightens, and I blink rapidly to keep the moisture locked behind my eyes. Brooks blows out a slow, long breath next to me, his grip on my hand tensing. He rocks his weight back and forth between his feet as his dad speaks aloud to Angela.
“Hi there, darling,” Steve begins. “We’re here today to tell you again how much we miss you. Every day. You’re always with us in everything we do, a constant presence in our thoughts and our memories. It’s still hard to create new memories without you, but we know you’d want us loving the best of each moment. I finally took that birding tour to Canada that I always dreamed about. Got lucky and saw every species of owls I was hoping for. You would have loved the Snowy Owl. She was a beauty.”
Steve continues speaking for a couple more minutes, then trails off. Steven and Julie jump in, sharing highlights from the past year, and I realize this must be their annual tradition. To speak their favorite new memories to Angela’s memory. I’m barely holding it together by the time Brooks clears his throat to speak.
“Hey, Mom,” he starts, voice strained. “Really wish you could have been here this year. Because Teegan’s here with me. Yes, the Teegan. Your favorite of all time. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but God let me back into her life after I was such an idiot. And I know you’d be so thrilled about that.” He pauses, and I look over at him. His eyes are red, his lips twitching against the urge to cry. I let go of his hand so I can slip an arm around his waist, tucking myself to his side. Leaning my head against his chest, I wrap my other arm around his stomach and squeeze.
His arm around my shoulders tightens, almost to the point of being painful. But I won’t tell him to loosen his grip when I know this is the lifeline keeping him above water.
“Just really wish you were here,” he finishes, voice hardly above a whisper. He sniffs hard and clears his throat again. Steve picks up talking, but I don’t comprehend a word he says. I’m trying too hard not to fall to pieces so I can hold Brooks together.
Julie hands out bunches of flowers to each of us, and we take turns placing them against the trunk of the tree. I follow their lead, each person taking a private moment alone with their thoughts. When it’s my turn, I crouch down to place my flower stems with the others, thinking rather than speaking my words to Angela.
Hey, Mrs. Murphy. Mama Murph. I really do wish you were here to see the man that Brooks has become. You were the best of us, and he’s grown up to be the best of you. Thanks for always being there for me. For being a second mom in so many ways. Losing my relationship with you was one of the many hard things about our breakup. But we’ve both matured in all the ways we needed to as individuals before we could make us last. I hope you can see that. That you’re smiling that satisfied smile you had when everything turned out exactly how you told us it would. I’ll miss you being with us for all that’s still to come.
Standing to my feet, I wipe the tears from my cheeks before turning to face everyone. Brooks, Steven, and Julie walk the few steps down to the lake’s edge, and I move to follow them. Brooks’ dad catches my arm to stop me.
“Thanks for coming today, Teegan,” he says. His eyes fill with tears as he continues. “This would have meant so much to Angela. To see you. The fact that she knew and loved the girl that Brooks would wind up with . . . I can’t explain how much that means to me.”
I’ve officially lost the fight against tears now. He hugs me again before we join the others by the water. By the time I reach Brooks’ side, he’s already cracking jokes, retelling funny lake stories at Steven’s expense .
Julie leans in and speaks with a low voice. “It really means a lot that you came today. He never shows it, but I know this tradition is hard for Brooks. He typically glosses over everything, doesn’t really show emotion. That’s the closest to genuine grief I’ve seen him express.” Her smile is kind, appreciative as she holds my gaze.
“I’m glad I’m here too,” I reply before Brooks calls me over.
“Bet I can still beat you at skipping rocks,” he declares, holding up two flat rocks.
“You’re on, Murphy,” I say, brushing aside the heavy emotions so I can match Brooks’ need for playful energy now. Pretty soon, we’re all laughing and skipping rock after rock over the water’s surface. Steve comes out victorious with a masterful ten skips.
After an early dinner at their favorite lakeside grill, we part ways to drive back to Lee’s Summit. I share some of my memories of the lake trip I took with them, mostly teasing Brooks about how much he tried to show off water skiing only to lose every competition to Steven. We stop at Steve’s house to drop him off before Brooks will drive me home for the night.
I get out of the car to give Steve a proper hug before moving to the front seat. “Thanks for letting me join you today,” I tell him. His tight squeeze is his only response.
“Looking forward to seeing you again soon, Teegan,” he tells me before heading into the house. “See you in a little while, Brooks.”
Brooks and I get back into the car, and he asks, “Where to? You staying with your mom or dad or Amaya?”
“Dad. I’ll put the address into your map,” I say, taking his phone from him. I didn’t want to have to go home to my mom’s house and rehash the day’s emotional events with her. My dad is less likely to ask follow-up questions. “I would have stayed with Amaya, but she’s in Wichita visiting her mom for the long weekend.”
“I’m glad I got to meet her and Lana at your birthday party,” Brooks says as he backs out of the driveway. “It’s more fun being able to picture their faces and personalities with all your comments about them.”
I smile. “I only wish you could have met Mateo too. You would hit it off for sure. Hopefully we can make it happen someday. ”
Brooks glances over at me. “We should fly out to D.C. and visit them.”
“Yes! That would be so fun sometime! I’ve only been out there to see her once,” I say.
“I mean, like, tomorrow,” Brooks says, voice picking up fervor. “It’s a long weekend for MLK day on Monday. We should fly out there tomorrow and back on Monday!”
“Are you for real?” I ask.
“Totally for real. What else do we have going on? Let’s just go!” he replies.
I know that this trip suggestion is probably a way of escaping the weight of this weekend. But I’m all for enabling his escapism if it means seeing my best friend.
“Ahhhh!” I scream. “Let’s do it! I’ll text Lana.”