SEBASTIAN #2
“She started going on about our future and stuff. She wants me to meet her grandparents, I think?”
“You think?” Joshua raises a dark eyebrow.
“I don’t know … she wasn’t making much sense. One minute she’s going on about me focusing too much on Delia Cooper--”
“Ah,” my three brothers say in unison.
“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?” Each of my dark-haired brothers are watching me through eerily similar stormy-blue eyes.
“Because it always comes back to Lana, doesn’t it?” Joshua says.
“What? I didn’t even mention Lana. I was worried about Delia, because her shop is closed, and I haven’t seen her around town for a while.”
“Yeah, but why are you worried about Delia? Do you show this much concern for all your elderly neighbours?” Antony challenges, his words so similar to Sarah’s earlier that it startles me for a moment.
What are they getting at?
“Well, no, but she’s Lana’s grandmother--”
Ryan sighs. “And you have the nerve to say I’m the oblivious one. Isn’t it obvious, Sarah’s worried you’re hung up on your ex.”
“What, because I’m worried about Delia? I’m just being a good neighbour…” Even as I say the words, I know how false they are. It’s not that I don’t care about my other elderly neighbors, I just don’t have a connection with any of them. Delia will always be on my radar because of Lana.
“I’m not hung up on her, I’m just looking out for her family.”
“Why? Did she ask you to? Have you spoken to her recently?” Joshua asks.
“Well, no, but--”
“But she’s always on your mind. At the forefront of your thoughts,” Josh continues.
“That’s not--”
Antony shakes his head. “Don’t lie to us, man. What was it you said to me when I admitted I was scared of falling in love with Erin because of what happened to May?”
I bow my head, knowing they’re right. “I said sometimes I feel like I’ll never love anyone like I loved Lana. That I still think about her every day. But that was before I started dating Sarah.”
“So those feelings for Lana just magically went away when you and Sarah got together? You don’t think about her at all anymore?” Joshua asks.
“Okay, fine. I think about her all the damn time, is that what you want?” I say, the frustration making the volume of my voice rise.
I grab my bottle of beer and take a deep swallow.
Feeling a little calmer, I add, “I don’t know, I guess I just always hoped me, and Lana would reunite when we got our careers on track. ”
God, it feels good saying that out loud. Admitting that I still love Lana and that I hope someday we can reunite makes everything clearer in my mind suddenly.
But with that clarity comes a harsh realization. “I think I need to break up with Sarah. It’s not fair on either of us when I’m hoping someday Lana will come back to me.”
Joshua pats me affectionately on the back. “It’s tough man, but it’s for the best. Sarah deserves to know the truth.”
“Yeah … I just feel terrible for not figuring it out sooner … I just kind of assumed things would fizzle out, like they always do.”
“You gonna call her then?” Antony asks.
“Yeah, but I need to call someone else first. I have to speak to Lana, even if it’s just to check she’s okay and her grandma is alright.” I stand, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Do you mind if I use your office?”
“Go for it,” Josh replies.
I leave my brothers in the longue, and head through to Josh’s office, where sporting equipment and weights lay around. On the desk is a photo of the five of us together with Mom and Dad, just a few months before they died. I smile. I have the exact same picture in a frame on my nightstand.
I sit down on Josh’s hastily made bed, and scroll through my contacts for Lana’s number, hoping she hasn’t changed it in the last five years.
It rings for so long I’m beginning to think she had in fact changed her number, when someone finally answers.
“Hello, this is Lana Cooper. Who’s calling please?”
It’s been five years, but the sound of her unique, throaty voice is instantly recognizable, and I’m transported back in time.
I can clearly picture Lana’s dark skin, cat-like yellow-brown eyes, and thick, intricately woven dreads. She always wore them with different beads and decorations.
“Hello?” Lana repeats, and I realize I haven’t said anything.
“Oh, uh, hi, it’s Sebastian. Sebastian Braddock.”
“Sebastian,” she says, and I can’t quite make out the tone of her voice. It’s almost as if she was expecting me to call, and is both relieved, and worried that I have. “I suppose you heard the news then?”
“The news?” I question.
“You’re not calling to wish me your condolences?” Lana replies, sounding confused.
“Condolences?” I repeat stupidly, and then the penny drops, and along with it my heart. Oh my god. “Delia. This is why the shop was closed. When did she pass?”
“A few days ago,” Lana replies, and now I can hear the grief in her voice. “One day when the shop didn’t open, my cousin Monica went over, and found her asleep in her bed … well, not asleep … you know--”
“I’m so, so sorry. When’s the funeral? Is there anything I can do?”
“Thank you, Sebastian. The funeral is next week, when I’m back in town.”
“You’re coming back to East Hampton?” I blurt. Of course, she’s coming back. Her grandmother -- the woman who raised her from birth -- has just passed away. What else would she do? “I can pick you up from the airport if you want?”
“Thanks, but it’s okay. Monica is picking me up. You’ll come to the funeral though, right?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. Are you sticking around afterwards, or do you have to rush back to New York?”
“Actually, I’m moving back permanently. I’m taking over the shop and turning it into a gallery like I always planned.”
“You’re moving back?” Why is it all I can do is repeat Lana’s questions back to her like I’m some sort of idiot? But I can’t order my thoughts -- Delia is gone. Lana’s coming back. She’s moving back permanently.
“Sebastian, I’m sorry, I have to go now. I’ll see you at the funeral.”
Before I get a chance to say bye, Lana hangs up the phone, and I’m left reeling.