Chapter 49 #2
I follow my brother into the neighbor’s yard, and we hurry across the lawn to the side road. Once we’re out, we turn right, away from Francisco’s home. I pull out my cell phone and call a rideshare. We continue walking until the car comes to pick us up.
Getting in the back seat, I try to pretend that everything’s normal.
“How’s your day going?” the driver asks cheerfully.
“Fine,” Brandon mumbles.
“Good,” I chirp.
“Great weather we’re having,” the driver observes, gliding through the neighborhood at an appropriately slow speed.
I consider texting Francisco again to let him know where I’m going. But if he’s in the middle of a meeting or trying to track down Andretti, I don’t want to bother him. I’ll text him when we’ve said our goodbyes to Dad. It won’t be a big deal, I try to assure myself.
Still, I’m antsy all the way to the cemetery.
It’s across town, in a municipal lot where all the gravesites were cheapest. When we buried Dad, I didn’t have a lot of money, and he had no insurance.
Apparently, hitmen don’t get great benefits.
We didn’t learn about the money he had hidden away for our schooling until later.
The driver pulls up and lets us off. I make sure to give him five stars and a hefty tip. Hopefully, he won’t get in any trouble with my husband, and he’ll forget about me and Brandon by the time he clocks out.
There’s no guard at the cemetery. People are free to come and go. In the distance, I can see an older couple standing at a distant gravesite. Maybe they’re mourning the passing of a child or a parent.
It takes a bit of searching to locate Dad’s grave. Though I paid for a marker, it isn’t anything special. All the rows of stones look alike, and I haven’t been here in years. We wander up and down, reading all the names before we finally locate Vincent Rocca.
Brandon stops, staring down at the only remnant of our father’s life.
I join him, and my heart skips a beat. There, at the base of the tombstone, is a single black rose.
Brandon might not know what it means, but I certainly do.
It’s a message from the Andretti family, they still haven’t forgiven us.
I don’t know when they had the time to drive by the cemetery, but I don’t like the implications.
I pick up the rose and shove it in my pocket.
I won’t let them desecrate my father’s grave with their petty threats.
I look around, wondering if they’re here now.
If so, then we made a big mistake. With all that went down at the warehouse, I would have thought Andretti would have been too busy hiding from my husband to send me threats.
Francisco will be pissed, and more than that, he’ll be heartbroken if anything happens to me.
But the cemetery is empty aside from a few legitimate looking mourners.
“What’s that?” Brandon asks.
“It’s nothing,” I say.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Brandon comments.
“It’s a message,” I tell him. “But it’s not one that I’m going to acknowledge.”
Brandon takes a crumpled photo out of his pocket.
I hadn’t realized he had been carrying it when they took him.
He holds it up so that I can see. Mom and Dad stare out at the camera, snuggled in each other’s arms, maybe on a camping trip or a day hike.
There are trees in the background and a bright blue sky.
The photo has that old-fashioned coloring reminiscent of the late 1990s.
Brandon sets the photo down where the flower used to be. I find his hand and give it a squeeze. There’s a flowering tree not too far from where we’re standing, and the fat pink petals it drops make the whole scene seem oddly comforting. It’s a nice place for our father to rest, and I’m grateful.
“I forgive you,” I whisper, not caring if Brandon hears.
“I’m not sure I do,” he says softly.
“You will,” I assure him. “Give it time.”
“I’m going to go,” Brandon says firmly.
I knew this was coming, but it’s still painful.
He said as much before we climbed out the window.
I wish we could spend more time together, but I’m not sure how.
Brandon doesn’t want any part of this life, and I don’t want to give up my marriage to Francisco, not when I’ve just come to grips with my feelings for him.
“You can’t go back to college yet,” I say.
“I know,” he replies. “I’m gonna find somewhere safe.”
“Will you text me?” I ask.
“I don’t have a phone,” he responds.
“When you get a phone,” I allow.
“I don’t know if that would be smart,” he says.
I agree. The less I know about his location, the better.
He can disappear, just like we did when he was a teenager.
Maybe he can start a new life somewhere else, where he won’t have to look over his shoulder all the time.
And maybe Francisco will solve the problem with the Andretti family, and Brandon will be free from that threat.
“I’ll contact you on social media when it’s safe,” I offer.
“Good,” he responds.
We hug awkwardly. It’s been a long time since we were close, and even now, there are so many reasons for being cool toward each other. I have my life, and he has his. Maybe at some point we’ll be able to mend the rift between us, but for the moment, I need to get back home.
I order another rideshare to take me back to the mansion.
“Are you sure you won’t come with me?” I ask my brother.
“No,” he says.
“What are you going to do?” I wonder.
“Walk into town,” he says. “Get a bus. Disappear.”
I sigh. I don’t even have cash with me to give him.
I look down at my hands, wishing there was some way I could help him pay for his ticket.
I have my wedding ring, but I can’t part with that.
Luckily, I’m wearing a bracelet that Francisco bought me.
It’s made of gold, so it should fetch a decent price if Brandon pawns it.
I take it off and hand it over. He doesn’t even try to stop me, simply folding it into his pocket for safekeeping.
He kisses me on the cheek and waits until my ride shows up.
I get into the car, feeling guilty for so many things.
I don’t know how I’m going to survive without knowing that he’s safe.
But he’s better off on his own, that much is obvious.