Page 51 of Forgotten Pieces

I mouth a thank you to Mac when Shelley turns to put dishes on the kitchen table. He raises his eyebrows at me and I know he wants answers. And I have to give them to him. He just saved my ass. But he is going to have to wait for those.

“Well he is a brooding asshole sometimes. You learn to live with it,” Shelley cuts in.

I nearly drop the pan of eggs I just lifted from the stove. Mac’s eyes bug out at Shelley’s words. My fist clenches around the handle of the pan.

She turns toward me and I struggle to keep my anger at bay. She has never said anything like that to me before. I know she has thought it. But to say it out loud in front of people is not her style. I feel Mac’s hand on my shoulder as he walks up next to me. “We all are brooding assholes at some point in our lives. The other day Ry had to watch me cry. Terrible day.” He glances at me with a smirk. “For both of us.”

Right now I am more grateful for my cousin than I have been in a long time. He grabs the pan out of my hand and walks to the table, plating eggs on everyone’s plate.

I have never felt like I was becoming my father. But in that moment, the red that flashed before my eyes, I had never been more scared that I was becoming him. The fading pain of a PTSD episode mixed with red hot anger is nothing I want to experience again.

We end up eating breakfast in relative silence. Shelley not saying a word about what slipped from her mouth. She makes small talk with Mac the whole time as I eat in silence. Right now, more than anything, the urge to see Tacoma hits me hard in the chest. I just saw her. Less than twelve hours ago. But I know she would understand what I am feeling. She would know what to say.

I clean up the dishes after we finish eating. Shelley goes to the bedroom to finish packing her clothes while Mac packs up the rest of the kitchen.

He doesn’t say a word to me.

He doesn’t need to.

He knows how my mind works. Maybe not as much since the accident a year ago.

But he knows when I need space.

And I am afraid he also knows when I need to see Tacoma too.

“She know you’re moving into town today?” he whispers.

I shake my head. “I didn’t tell her.”

The sound of another truck pulling up to the house breaks our conversation. Mac heads to the door and I follow as he gestures for me. We step outside into the sweltering September heat.

“You plan on telling her?”

He obviously doesn’t want the conversation to end. “I don’t need to. She’ll find out.”

“What are you gonna do, man?” Mac asks me, looking at me with remorse.

I grip the back of my neck as I see Brooks jump out of his truck, Tacoma’s sister right behind him. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Mac clasps a hand on my shoulder and looks at me, his eyes full of sympathy. “You’re fucked, man. You really are.”

I knock his hand away at his obvious statement. I know I’m fucked. Every day that passes, this dream Shelley had, a dream I tried to make my own, we grow farther apart. And with every day that passes, my mind finds itself thinking more and more about Tacoma.

“Yo Brooksy, how’s it goin’?” Mac shouts at his best friend.

Brooks is a big guy. Not as big as me but I can tell he spends a lot of time at the gym honing his body to perfection. I look over at his wife and smile. They couldn’t be more opposite, but I can tell by looking at them that they are very much in love.

A pang of jealousy hits me.

With the way my brain is functioning today I am going to need a drink by the time we are done moving.

“Will you stop callin’ me Brooksy? Why the fuck’d you even start doing that?”

Mac chuckles. “Ahh, there he is. I was wondering what happened to you after you got devoured by pussy.”

Raelynn cracks up next to a not too happy looking Brooks.

“You’re just jealous, Donald,” Brooks spits out with a smirk.

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