Chapter 23 #2
For a few moments, Piper softens, opening to me, her tongue darting into my mouth and making me groan.
Then she pulls back and moves to the front door. “I’ll be waiting …”
I repress a growl of frustration, then touch my fingers to my lips and extend my arm as if blowing her a kiss.
The words “I love you” are waiting in my throat, but Erica opens the door for her daughter, and Piper’s gone.
I head back down the snowy sidewalk. I’ve never been to Ethan’s house before, but Piper showed me where it is—only a couple of blocks away.
With each step forward, memories of the past bear down on me. With Piper, I feel lighter than air but now, on my way to see Ethan, the ghosts of Olivia and all my regrets feel like weights around my ankles.
Walking up the path from the street, I note the subdued Christmas decorations on Ethan’s house—there, but not chaotic or oversized, and the perfectly maintained family home.
It’s only when my hand is on the door knocker that I realize I’ve come empty-handed. What a fucking shitty friend I am, not even bringing him a beer?
The door opens and the first thing I see are Ethan’s dark eyes, then my heart stops as I notice what’s over his shoulder.
A six-foot-tall, four-foot-wide photo hangs facing the entrance. It’s of Olivia, and she’s looking directly at me.
“Uncle Brody!”
I force my eyes down to mini-Olivia, vibrating with excitement at my arrival.
“I …” I pause, dragging my gaze back up to Ethan’s face. “I didn’t bring anything.”
“Didn’t need to. Come on in.”
I stumble into the hall. There’s a rack for shoes and coats, and two doors leading further into the house, but I can’t stop staring at the photo of Olivia.
It’s not how I remember her. She was always laughing, full of life, but in this photo she’s too composed, almost distant. Sure, she’s smiling, but she looks like an ice queen silently judging anyone who passes by.
I already don’t feel worthy.
“Don’t be scared of Mommy,” Martha says in a matter-of-fact voice. “She’s just making sure we keep the hall tidy.”
I take off my boots and line them up on the mat, then Ethan takes my coat and hangs it up, brushing his hand down the sleeves to make sure they’re hanging straight.
He leads me into the family room. It’s immaculate.
Martha’s coloring books and pens are on a low table.
The pens are stored nib-down in a pot, and the books are stacked neatly in a pile.
Toys are in a woven basket to one side. There’s a modest Christmas tree, but it looks like it was trimmed by an anally retentive elf.
Photos of Olivia are everywhere. You can’t turn without seeing her face.
It’s been four years since her death, and it’s clear Ethan has no intention of moving on.
“We’re having pizza!” Martha exclaims. “Now come see my bedroom!”
Without waiting for a reply, she takes my hand and pulls me out of the room, leading me up a flight of stairs, Olivia watching my every step.
“It’s okay,” Martha says gently.
But I don’t feel okay. If I feel overwhelmed by guilt after less than five minutes here, how must Ethan feel living in this house every day? Is this his way of punishing himself for not saving her from sepsis?
Martha stops outside a door with her name on it in bright wooden letters. “Yesterday, Papa told Nana our house is a …” She wrinkles her button nose, thinking hard. Then she beams: “A shine!”
“A shine?”
She nods.
“Did they maybe say a shrine?”
Her eyes light up. “Yes, that.”
She pauses, frowning again. “Uncle Brody, is that a cuss word?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t think I was meant to hear it.”
I crouch down. “It’s not a cuss word, sweetie, but …”
Damn. How do I explain something this complicated to a five-year-old?
Martha waits patiently, her big blue eyes locked on mine.
“Your Nana and Papa, they’re your mommy’s parents, right?”
“Yes. They look after me with Grandma and Grandpa when Daddy has to work.”
So even Olivia’s folks think Ethan’s taken the self-flagellation too far.
“You know how churches have a special place where people light candles?”
She nods.
“That’s a shrine.”
“But my mommy isn’t Jesus.”
“I know, sweetie, but your daddy doesn’t want to forget her.”
“How can he when she’s always here?” She points at her heart.
My hand rubs the center of my chest, trying to soothe the ache there. It’s not just for Olivia, but for the pain Ethan endures every day.
“That’s true. But this is just what your daddy needs right now.”
She presses her lips together, clearly unhappy, then nods. “Okay. Come see my room now.”
I follow her into a space that, thank god, is untidy, and she shows me all her favorite toys.
After about fifteen minutes, Ethan calls us down. We sit on cushions on the family room floor, eating pizza from large white plates. This is clearly a rare treat for Martha, who can’t contain her excitement.
When we’ve eaten, I help Ethan clear up, and he puts Martha to bed.
Downstairs, I shift on the L-shaped sectional, trying to avoid facing Olivia, as my stomach ties itself into a tighter and tighter knot. Not for the first time, I wish I had alcohol to take the edge off my tension.
But I can’t go there, so I sip my water and let my knee jiggle up and down as I wait for the sound of Ethan’s feet coming down the stairs.
“So, apparently you hate Hideaway,” he says, putting on the game but keeping the volume low so we can talk.
What the fuck?
My head snaps toward him, but he keeps his eyes on the screen.
“No, I do not hate Hideaway,” I reply sharply, “and I never have. Marisa’s hurt that I’ve moved on and is lashing out. And I never cheated on her. She was the unfaithful one.”
Ethan nods. “I … I always knew you were in love with Piper,” he admits quietly.
Huh? “How?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Because you weren’t that good an actor back then.”
I rub a hand over my jaw, stunned. “I thought I hid it from you.”
“I’m observant. And when you thought I wasn’t aware, you looked at her the way I looked at Olivia.”
Well, shit.
“Olivia argued with me about you that summer. She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t let you near Piper.”
I will my hands to relax.
“Why didn’t you? Why wasn’t I good enough?”
Ethan’s head finally turns to me, his expression filled with bleak regret.
“It wasn’t you. It was never about you. I saw kids who didn’t graduate because they’d gotten pregnant or caught up in some stupid drama, and I didn’t want that for Piper.”
He sighs. “I know what I can be like. Rigid. In control. I didn’t understand myself enough back then. I just wanted Piper to be happy. And when you left, I believed it justified the decision I made, that I’d done the right thing.”
I can’t speak. Even after all this time apart, he’s still my best friend, but that doesn’t mean I can easily forgive him.
“And I knew you had to leave. Even before your mom passed, I knew you had to prove something to yourself, and you wouldn’t have found that by staying in Hideaway Harbor.”
“Maybe. But maybe not,” I reply bitterly. “I would have had a different life if I’d been with Piper, and I believe it would have been happier.”
There’s a weighty silence between us, interrupted only by the game commentary.
“And that’s why what Piper said to me yesterday was right. I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”
His gaze moves around the room, lingering on the pictures of Olivia. “You’ve got your second chance now. Don’t waste a second of it.”
“I won’t.” I take a breath. “You’re the same age as me. What about your second chance?”
He shakes his head with a sad finality. “No one could ever replace Olivia, and I wouldn’t want anyone to.”
“They’re not replacing her. You think your folks loved you any less when Piper came along? Hudson? Harper? There’s room in your heart to fall in love again.”
“No, there isn’t. I’ve got room for Martha and my family, and that’s it.”
“Even in Hideaway Harbor? The town founded on true love?”
He huffs. “I had my one true love. There isn’t going to be a number two.”
But what if Martha wants a mom who can talk back, not just gaze at her from a photo frame?
I don’t ask the question. I may not agree with Ethan’s decision for himself, but if there’s one thing I know about him, once he’s made up his mind, it doesn’t often change.
“I love Piper,” I say, just to make sure he knows. “I always have, and I always will.”
Taking my wallet from my back pocket, I open it and show him the photo I’ve had in there for the past twelve years. The one taken by Mia at our graduation party, the same one on his parents’ wall.
“You think I’d be carrying this around with me if I didn’t care about her, or you?”
Ethan’s hand reaches out, and he touches Olivia’s face. I don’t even know if he’s aware he’s done it.
Then he withdraws and takes a drink. “But what about your job? Constantly flying all over the world? The shit Piper’s going to get from the press.”
And he doesn’t even know my next job might be in New Zealand …
“We’ll make it work. I’m not losing her again.”
We watch the game in silence till the next ad break, then Ethan clears his throat.
“I also need to apologize for what I said to you about your job. It was an ignorant dick move. I spoke to Walter earlier about how you found Billy. You could only have done it if you knew what to look for.”
I nod. “I did a TV show and spent months with a professional tracker and bushcraft expert learning as much as I could. During the filming I then went a bit method and built my own shelter and lived outside.”
Ethan’s eyebrows raise. “When you could have been in a hotel suite?”
“I did take a bar of soap from the bathroom. I didn’t want to stink like an animal around my colleagues.”
He smiles. “Do you remember when we built a tree house and claimed we would stay the night in it?”
“Hey, that owl was right on top of us and hungry.”
“Don’t forget we were convinced the coyotes had learned to climb.”
“I stand by that. They’re wily.”
Ethan lets out a small laugh, and I remember that was his natural state when we were growing up. He was always upbeat and happy.
“What else have you learned for a role?”
I puff out my cheeks as I think. “Tons. I’m proficient in sword fighting, both rapier and broadsword, archery, horseback riding, precision driving, and rock climbing.
I’m also a black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, a G5 level in Krav Maga, and have a smattering of Muay Thai and Karate knowledge.
It’s enough to qualify me for stunt jobs, but I’m too attached to my face to do that kind of work. ”
Ethan lets out a whistle. “That’s a lot. Tens of thousands of hours of work.”
“I suppose so.”
“No wonder you could find Billy and have the strength to carry him and his dog back.”
I don’t reply, suddenly seeing myself as if I were Ethan, someone who understands just how much hard work I’ve put in, and what skills I’ve acquired over the years.
I shouldn’t look down on my career as somehow lesser. I’m not just a pretty face who’s good at pretending to be other people, I’ve gained and retained knowledge across a vast range of subjects. And that’s not due to some contractual obligation, but down to my interest and dedication.
“I volunteer for the local search and rescue service,” Ethan says, not noticing I’m having a moment of deep self-realization. “You should come to the next meet-up if you’re around. You could teach a few old dogs some new tricks.”
“I’d like that, although I expect it would be the other way around.”
“Not at all. Don’t sell yourself short. You’ll have so much value to share with the team.”
I take a sip of water to buy myself a moment.
“I’ll never be able to forgive myself for not being at your wedding, Martha’s birth, and Olivia’s funeral,” I begin quietly.
Ethan gives me a small nod, his jaw set.
“I left Hideaway to make something of myself. Prove I wasn’t like either of my parents.
And after Mom died, I didn’t want to be around anything that reminded me of her.
And I was also terrified each job would be my last. That I couldn’t ask for time off, or call in sick.
I nearly got peritonitis on a job because I wouldn’t see the medic until we wrapped. ”
“Jesus, Brody!”
I raise my hands. “I know. It was fucking stupid. When I woke up from the op, the surgeon said my appendix was about an hour away from bursting.”
Ethan shakes his head, his gaze passing over the photos of Olivia on the wall.
“I wanted to become someone who was good enough for Piper, even though I pretended she wasn’t who I was thinking about all the time. I’m good at denial,” I continue.
“I know we spoke after Olivia passed, but every day after that my guilt grew, until it seemed impossible to ever come back. I didn’t have the guts to face you. And I’m sorry. I truly am.”
“Me too,” Ethan replies. “I missed you. And I never realized I’d made you feel you weren’t worthy. Because you are. And I want you to be with Piper. If you can love her for this long then I’ll know you’ll love her forever.”
“I will.”
He nods, seeming satisfied, and we settle back to watch the game.
But even as my eyes follow the action on screen, my mind is with Piper, wondering how we can make it work, and counting the minutes until I’m back in her arms.