Chapter 35 #2
No—MORE miserable.
Because I’m standing here in front of my parents’ shared headstones, thinking mean thoughts about my unfaithful, lying two-faced jerk of a dad, while my brother stands next to me, sniffling. Because he doesn’t know our dad is an unfaithful, lying, two-faced jerk.
And maybe it’s that I don’t feel like my dad deserves Chevy’s sadness or maybe it’s my own emotional overwhelm or possibly even the jalapeno margaritas, but whatever the reason, I blurt out: “Dad was having an affair.”
Like he’s in a movie with special effects, Chevy’s head turns to me in slow motion. His blue eyes, mirror of mine, blink. “What?”
“For years. He had a … girlfriend, I guess?”
Chevy just keeps blinking. And I just keep talking.
“And he was also paying for her kid’s college tuition. Or part of it.”
This is officially the quietest my brother has ever been. I take my role as silence-filler VERY seriously.
“Which is why I’m so broke. I gave the woman he was having an affair with the little bit I inherited because she kept calling and I didn’t want her to harass you too. Ta-da! Happy Thanksgiving. Now, it’s officially the worst holiday ever.”
Chevy’s jaw works. I consider touching him, but he looks tensed to spring. “You knew about this … and you didn’t tell me.”
I shake my head. I should feel bad for springing this on him.
Maybe I will later. For now, I don’t have room to feel bad because I’m just so furious with our father.
He doesn’t deserve Chevy’s tears. If I could afford it, I’d have him moved to some separate plot at the back of the cemetery and get his name chiseled off the headstone. Telling Chevy honestly feels … freeing.
Except for the part where I’ve tainted his memories of Dad with this information, just like it totally trashed mine.
Only … he looks more concerned than upset.
He slides an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close.
I wrap my arms around his waist. My brother could be an honorary Graham for the way he hugs.
And this thought, of course, has me thinking about James and the way he picked me up after my nightmare, curled around me, and held me there all night. My eyes burn. I haven’t let myself cry, and I’m not about to start now.
“How long have you known?” Chevy asks.
I squeeze him tighter. “I found out right after he died.”
Chevy sighs, relaxing against me. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
“Why? You’re not the one who had the affair.”
When he’s quiet for a long time, much too long, I pull back and stare up at him. His blue eyes look gray and overcast. He rubs a hand over his jaw, looking … really guilty.
“Why are you apologizing, Chev?”
“I found out about Dad’s affair when we were in high school.”
I almost fall over. My mind reels, rewinding backward all the way to high school, trying to make sense of this statement.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Probably same as you—I wanted to protect you. Lot of good that did.” He sighs. “Amelia contacted me after he died. I gave her money so she wouldn’t tell you.”
Shaking my head, I shoot a glance at the headstone, where Chevy placed fresh-cut daisies for our mom.
I realize he’s never brought anything for Dad, but I always assumed it was because Mom loved flowers.
“We’re like that awful Christmas story—the one where she sells her hair to buy him a watch chain and he sells his watch to buy her hair clips or something. ”
“I always thought that was a sweet story.”
“It’s a depressing holiday story. If they had just talked—if we had just talked …”
“What would have changed?” Chevy asks.
I shiver as a breeze lifts my hair off my neck. The sun has just dropped down over the trees and the light has turned to a soft gray. “We wouldn’t have been so alone.”
Chevy slings his arm over my shoulder. “We’ve never been alone.”
“I felt alone,” I admit quietly.
We probably need to go. The cemetery officially closes at dusk, and it’s definitely dusk. Though I don’t think Chevy is going to arrest us. Still, it’s cold, and I feel like an old shirt that’s been through the spin cycle twice.
Chevy glances around, then gives me a little tug. “Time to go.”
Neither of us say goodbye to Mom or Dad, though I silently toss out a love you to Mom and an I’m still mad at you to Dad.
As we walk, little solar lights begin winking to life all around us.
I’m not sure who started the tradition, but almost every plot and most of the paths have little solar lights—the kind you can pick up at any Walmart or dollar store.
It makes the Sheet Cake Cemetery look magical, like some kind of fairy garden.
“Did your breakup have anything to do with Dad?”
For the second time in half an hour, Chevy’s words almost bowl me over. “What breakup?” I ask, WAY too cheerfully.
“Nice try. I saw the post on Neighborly before you deleted it.”
“Stupid app,” I mutter. We reach Chevy’s truck, and he holds the door open for me. “Why would you think my breakup has to do with Dad?”
Chevy closes my door and waits until he climbs in his side of the truck before answering. “Don’t think it escaped my notice that you’ve been dating totally safe guys like Dead-Eye Dale. Then you bolt from a guy I could actually see you with.”
“Shouldn’t you be happy? I thought you tried to scare him off.” Chevy turns on the car and I crank up the heat, holding my fingers in front of the vents.
“No, I talked to him because I thought things could get serious with you two.”
I scoff. “Well, you were wrong there.”
“Are you sure you aren’t just running?” He assesses me, and I can’t meet his gaze.
“If I am, it’s because he chased me off.”
“And what happens when he realizes he’s an idiot and starts chasing after you?”
“He won’t.”
“He will.”
“Well, I’ll just keep running.”
“That!” Chevy turns, putting his back up against the door and pointing at me. “That’s what I mean about Dad. You’re running because you’re scared of getting hurt. You’re scared to trust.”
I point right back at him. “This goes both ways, brother dear. Is it because of Dad you keep dating terrible women?”
He makes a face. “They aren’t terrible.”
“They are.”
Sighing, he faces forward and puts the truck in drive. “Fine. They’re terrible.”
“About time you admitted it.” I don’t feel the sense of elation I should. I just feel … sad. “So—do you think Dad is part of why?”
“I just—” Chevy’s jaw clenches as he turns out of the cemetery and heads back toward his house.
“I just don’t want to be like him, you know?
What if I can’t be with just one person?
What if I suck at commitment? What if I—” He pauses and swallows, that same muscle clenching in his jaw.
“What if I hurt someone the way he hurt us?”
Oh, Chevy. My heart aches for my big brother. Who, besides being a giant pain in my butt sometimes, is really pretty amazing.
“Not that I have tons of experience in this department, but I’m pretty sure you can’t have a relationship without hurting someone. Or being hurt. I think that’s what happens when two imperfect people are in a relationship.”
He hums a noncommital response.
“And if you’re thinking you share his DNA, so you can’t be trusted, well—if that’s true for you, it’s true for me too. Do you feel like I’m going to screw up every relationship just because I’m his daughter?”
Chevy shoots me a sideways glance, one corner of his mouth tilting up. “I mean, you do seem set on screwing up your relationships …”
I shove him from across the console, and he laughs. “Fine. No. I don’t think that just because of Dad, we’re both doomed to bad relationships.”
“So, maybe we should try acting like we believe it,” I suggest.
Chevy grunts, which only reminds me of the man who perfected the art of grunting.
I hold out my hand, extending my pinky. Chevy looks at my finger like it’s a cockroach—the giant flying kind Texas is famous for, which my brother doesn’t ever have in his house because he’s too much of a neat freak.
“Pinky swear,” I say, giving my hand a little shake. “Come on.”
“What exactly am I swearing on?” he asks.
“That we’re not going to torpedo our relationships because of Dad’s mistakes.”
Chevy takes one hand off the wheel and hooks his pinky around mine, grinning. “Fine. Consider me unarmed. Weapons down.”
“I never thought this day would come,” I tease, and he gives me a look I don’t like one bit.
“You realize this means you have to stop running from James.”
My stomach does a little flip, and I tell it to stand down. Just because my friends and my brother think there might be some chance for James and me doesn’t make it a reality.
“I wasn’t the only one responsible for blowing up our relationship.”
“Good to know.”
“Chevy,” I say in a warning tone. “You’re not going to do anything stupid to James, right?”
The smile he gives me is straight-up wolfish. “I don’t do stupid revenge, sister. Only smart revenge.”
“Well, in that case, I should tell you about Dale.”