Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ECHO
W alking into the house that holds so many memories hits harder than expected. It could be the emotional turmoil swirling within me, making me a mess of unending nerves. I feel as if I’ve walked into a perfectly contained time capsule. Or twilight zone. The same blue and green plaid sofa and love seat sit in the shape of an L in the living room, both still facing the older, non-flat screen TV with the heavy hunter green curtains hanging behind, blocking out the sun. I walk past my dad’s old study, not bothering to inspect it, heading straight for the kitchen. The fruit wallpaper lining the backsplash between the wood cabinets peels in spots as though someone wanted to replace it but thought better of it. The same wallpaper lines the walls of the dining room in a six-inch strip atop the half-paneled portion of the wall. White stove, white dishwasher, and white refrigerator with a loud hum fill in the spaces between the wooden cabinets. As I make my rounds through the house, I cringe when I see the toucan and palm tree wallpaper still in the bathroom. It was bad when we lived here, and even worse now.
It’s as if time stopped the day we moved. I know for my heart, it practically did. I look behind me to Dylan who has been on my heels, staying abnormally quiet. I giggle at the expression on his face as he looks at the bathroom walls in horror.
“You can hang out in my old room.” I gesture down the hall and he walks past me without hesitating. I make my way back to the living room and sit next to my mom on the sofa. She sits with her legs crossed and her hands resting atop.
“There’s a lot I need to fill you in on,” I admit, breaking the ice. “I’m going to wait until Lynsie gets here so I can get it all off my chest at once.”
My mom nods and asks, “I know you’ve mentioned her before, but can you explain to me who exactly Lynsie is and how she fits into all of this?”
“Yes, of course.” I hit my forehead with my palm. “Duh.” I bite at my thumbnail, trying to figure out where to start. “Lynsie and I met at the salon I work at a couple years ago. We didn’t really become close until last year. Her husband, Lincoln, was a pilot along with his best friend, Dax.” I straighten myself and rub my sweaty palms against my jeans. “Lincoln and Dax are both originally from here.” I pause and watch her eyes widen. “But wait, there's more.” I snort, sounding like an infomercial. “Lynsie’s husband, Lincoln, died in a plane crash last year.”
Her hand covers her mouth, muffling her gasp. “The one that you and Dylan witnessed at that air show.”
I nod and swallow down the lump of grief and terror that seeps in anytime I envision that night.
“That’s horrible,” she whispers.
“Yes, it was devastating.” I shake the memory away. “So after that, Dax was pretty much Lynsie’s crutch. On top of losing her husband, she found out she was pregnant.” I smile at the thought of seeing Blu. It’s been so long. “Dax and Lynsie are now together, and they moved back here this past summer.”
“Oh, okay. Well, that makes sense why you’d want to come back to this town. I figured it had something to do with?—”
I hold my hand out, stopping her.
“Here comes the more part. Dax is Dustin’s brother.”
“Oh my. What are the chances of that?” she asks redundantly.
“And that’s not even where it ends.” A nervous laugh escapes my mouth. Speaking it all aloud sounds absolutely insane. “After thirteen years, I finally saw Dustin.”
My mom uncrosses her legs, straightening her posture, but keeps her hands placed at her knees.
“It was at an award ceremony for Dax. That’s how I found out, but we didn’t get to really talk. A lot happened that night, keeping us from being able to.” I stand up, pacing in front of the sofa, and rub the back of my neck.
“Well, what happened? Where’s he been this whole time? Where’d he go after?” Her voice sounds invested, as if she’s intrigued by my story.
“He’s been in the Army.” I stop dead in front of her and look down. “And he went to the war with Brian,” I whisper. My knees begin to wobble, wanting to buckle beneath me. I pivot and drop to the couch.
“Oh, Echo.” My mom’s arms swiftly wrap around me, and she pulls me into her, rocking me in that loving way only a mother can. I finally break. I cry as one might mourning the loss of a loved one. And maybe that’s exactly what I’m doing; mourning the girl I once was or the one I’ve become. “I love you.” Her words flutter across my ear, warming my heart. I sniffle as I pull away and place my hands right below my eyes and wipe outward. Thankfully, I didn’t wear makeup, or I’d look like a clown.
“I love you too, Mom,” I finally reply, regaining my composure. I look around, grimacing. “No wonder you’re having issues selling this house,” I say, changing the subject. “I mean, it’s not like people are dying to move to this town, as it is. This house solidifies why they shouldn’t.” I chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood for a short stint. “It needs a lot of work. Not hard work, just work.” I shrug, angling my body in her direction.
“You want the job?” She cocks a brow, then adds, “I’ll pay you.”
“You don’t have to pay me, Mom. I’ll gladly help. I need the distraction.” I place my hand over hers and give it a squeeze.
“Knock, knock,” Lynsie says through the screen door. Excitement and dread hit me as I stand to let my friend in.
I give her a big hug as if I haven’t seen her in years. It’s only been a few weeks, but it feels like an eternity.
“Where’s Blu?” I ask, taking notice of her empty arms.
Her smile is warm and comforting. “I just dropped her off with Lincoln’s parents.” We make our way to the couch, and I introduce Lynsie to my mom before we sit on the couch across from her.
I prepare myself for what I’m about to say. “Okay. I need to start from the beginning for any of this to make sense.” I take a deep breath. For a second, I debate whether to continue to pull the breath in until I run out. Maybe I’ll pass out and buy myself some time.
You can do this, Echo , I keep thinking over and over.
“Echo, you don’t have to start from the very beginning. I know why you left.” I peek over at my mom and can see the pain written all over her face.
Hell, this is just as hard for her as it is for me.
I swallow hard. “Yes. Yes, I do. I owe it to you, Dylan, and myself. I’m tired of living with this feeling. I’ve finally come to a point in my life where I’m realizing what matters most. I’m done being that stubborn girl.”
My mom snorts, causing me to giggle.
“Fine, you got me there. I’ll always be stubborn, but it doesn’t have to be at the expense of others any longer.”
The hope shining in my mother’s blue eyes encourages me to push forward. The weight begins to lessen. Then I think about Dustin. This conversation doesn’t end here. It ends with Dustin. He deserves to know what happened. Truth be told, I’m more worried about that conversation.
So I start from the beginning. Mom cries through the parts about me being eighteen, pregnant, and feeling alone. Sympathetic Lynsie sniffles beside me.
“We would have never made you give up your baby.” My mom cries, pleading for me to believe her. I do.
“I know that now. But I was young, in love, and hurt. I was scared, and through the pain I was feeling, I wanted you guys to hurt, too. Brian had always been there for me. So the night Dad told me we were moving back to Oklahoma, I remembered what Brian said before he took off for basic training.” He called me and told me he had joined the Army. His dad had recently been diagnosed with cancer and Brian couldn’t deal with the reality and blamed God, not understanding why he wouldn’t heal him. As I sit here and remember, I witness the chip on his shoulder form and realize it’s the same timeframe mine manifested with Dustin’s following shortly after.
Oh, the weight we have all carried for far too long.
I shake off the memory and continue, “I told him about Dustin and how hard Dad was being with it all. He said, ‘you could just leave and come with me . ’ I thought he was joking.” I laugh. “Until I called him, and he showed up.” I wipe away the tears I didn’t realize were falling as I look up at my mom. She’s wiping her own tears away. “Eventually, he brought up the idea of marriage. I’d get his health benefits, and as his wife, I’d be able to move wherever he was stationed. I knew I loved him in a way.” I tell her that it made perfect sense and for the last thirteen years, it’s worked for us.
“Well, as much as I hate how it all happened”—my mother sniffles—“I’m glad it did all work out on your end.” She starts shaking her head as more tears stream down her face. “I just hate all the time we’ve missed. I didn’t get to see my baby grow up or have her own baby.”
“I know, Mom.” I get up and sit next to her, wrapping my arms around her. “I’m sorry about how it all went down. I’m sorry it took the past coming back into my life for me to realize all of this. I should’ve done it sooner.”
“I’m just glad it’s finally happened. It’s an answered prayer.” She pulls back, placing her hand on my cheek. “No matter what has happened in our pasts, I’m proud of the woman you’ve become.”
I nod, choking back a sob. Those are words I’ve never expected to hear from her.
Proud. She’s proud of me.
I let them anchor my soul because no matter what comes our way in the future, I don’t want to lose what I’m feeling now.
“Now, finish the story. What brought you back here?” My mom prods.
“Honestly, after seeing Dustin, I’ve been a ball of confusion. I needed a break from the everyday and just wanted to feel close to him even though he’s half a world away.”
My mom pats my hand. “All I can say is sometimes there’s something bigger in the works. Maybe this isn’t a coincidence. You need to figure out what you want and what will make you happy. In the end, that’s what will be best for Dylan.”
“Can I add something?” Lynsie pipes in. She angles her body toward me. Our knees touch as she holds my hands in hers. She stares deeply into my eyes. “I know you have these feelings you’re unsure of. But just be careful. Guard your heart. People change. Don’t expect the boy you once knew. He’s been gone for so long. No one really knows him anymore.”
I see sadness in her eyes and know it’s empathy for Dax and the lack of relationship he has with his brother.
But she’s right. Not only was Dustin hurt by what happened between us, he’s been in constant battle since. I can almost guarantee the boy I once knew and loved no longer exists.
“ARE YOU SURE you’re up for keeping Dylan?”
“I’m always up for keeping my grandson,” my mom reassures me.
“I know, but it’s last minute, and not during the normal time we usually do it.”
“Echo, stop.” She hushes me. “It’s baseball season, remember?”
My eyes light up with a glint of envy.
“You need to take this time to put your needs first and sort out your thoughts.” She looks around, swiveling her head and motioning with her hands. “What better way to do that than getting your hands dirty?”
“Any requests?”
“Nope. I trust you’ll make it look a million times better than its current state.” She grimaces, and I laugh.
I lean in and hug her, holding her tightly and telling her thank you. Pulling back, I place my hands on her shoulders and just gaze into her eyes, not being able to form any words. She does the same back until we both nod in understanding. “Okay, I’m going to go get the boy now. I haven’t even told him he’s going with you. He’s going to be so excited.”
I push open my old bedroom door, and it creaks just like it use to. I glance around, taking in the brightly lit room. The yellow paint only amplifies the brightness. My Switchfoot poster still hangs near the closet and I smile. My eyes drift to my broken bed and I gulp in remembrance of how it got that way. No matter how many times it's been fixed and propped back together, it still ends up falling back down to a slant.
“Whatcha playing over there?” I lean against the bedroom doorway as I watch Dylan. He’s lying on his back on the floor, holding the iPad up. I always tell him to be careful. That he’s going to drop it smack dab on his face. But he never listens, and because of that, we’ve had one black eye and a busted lip. Two separate occasions. Because apparently, dropping it on your face once isn’t good enough.
“Minecraft.”
“Nice. I still don’t get the point of that game, but whatever.” I walk into the room and kneel beside him. I grab the iPad and pull it from his hands.
“I wasn’t done,” he huffs.
“Sit up. We need to talk.”
“As long as it’s not the talk ,” he mumbles as he sits up, stretching his legs out.
“And what talk is that?” I raise a brow. “Never mind. We’ll discuss that another time. You’re going to go hang out with your grandparents for a bit while I stay here and work on this house.”
“Are you sure, Ma?” he questions, taking in my old room. “This house needs an awful lot of work done.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I ruffle his hair. “Ye of little faith.”
“Oh, I have faith…in you. Not this house,” he teases.
Heading out of the house, I get his suitcase out of the car and load it into my mom’s trunk. I make sure he has all his electronics in the front seat with him, along with the snacks we bought on the way here. He just got done being trapped in a car for hours. I’m shocked he’s so excited to be trapped in another one again.
I hug them both tightly, Dylan a little tighter, before waving them off. I watch as my mother’s car becomes smaller and smaller until I can no longer see it. The urge to run after it and jump in with them crosses my mind.
A slender arm wraps around my waist, pulling me in. I look over at Lynsie and smile. “I really hate to leave you. Are you gonna be okay?” she asks warily. “I can go pick up Blu and come back here instead.”
“Nah, as much as I want to see that baby of yours, I probably should get to work on this place.” “Oh my gosh,” Lynsie exclaims, dragging each word out. I look over and her eyes are as big as saucers and a smile covers her face. She starts jumping up and down. “You and I are practically family.” In a roundabout way, she’s right, and the realization makes a full smile take over my face. “I’ve always wanted a sister,” she says, throwing her arms around me.
“I love you too, Lynsie.” I tightly hug her.
I stand on the cracked sidewalk, the same one I used to watch the neighbor girls do hopscotch on. Giggling from behind pulls my mind back to the present. I turn to see a little boy a couple yards down, running as his dad chases him. It makes me smile. I can picture Dustin doing that with Dylan. He’s missed so much. He may never forgive me.