Page 15 of Say Something
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Okay, so I lied. There weretwopeople I let get away with calling me Jessie. One was Danny; the other was my little brother Michael.
“I thought you left,” I said stupidly. Obviously he hadn’t left since he was standing right in front of me.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry for what I said to you in there. It was out of line.Iwas out of line,” he said.
“I deserved it.”
“No, you didn’t,” he shook his head, sighing with the weight of whatever was on his mind. “That was several years of pent up frustration.”
I set the clipboard and my purse on the hood of my car and leaned my butt against the door beside him, mimicking his stance. “Want to talk about it?”
He let out a deep breath and, surprising me, started talking. “In the beginning, I understood. Somewhat, I guess. I knew you were going through something, but I wasn’t sure what. Mom and Dad didn’t get into details. I was pretty busy with finals and getting ready to graduate, so I didn’t think much about it. Then the weeks turned into months…”
“I’m so sorry, Mikey,” I said, resting my hand on his crossed forearm. He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but I knew better. My silence had hurt him badly.
“A whole year went by, Jess.A year,” he said firmly, and I flinched. “We’d never gone that long without speaking and the only saving grace, which wasn’t much of one at all, was that you weren’t talking to anyone else either, so at least I didn’t take it personally, but I still didn’t understand. I was still pissed you stopped talking to me.”
“I didn’t know what to say,” I told him honestly. “I was so lost, Mikey. I honestly wasn’t thinking about anyone but myself and everything that was going wrong.”
He nodded. “I get that. I just wish you would have leaned on us. Especially Mom. She was devastated she couldn’t be there for you. You don’t know how many times she packed an overnight bag, ready to drive out to the city. Dad had to talk her down.”
Tears filled my eyes as my heart broke for what felt like the thousandth time. I hadn’t known that. “I’m sorry I caused you all so much pain. I was so depressed, Mike. I wasn’t thinking about anyone. I was barely even thinking about myself. I just wanted to…lose myself. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I understand,” he said simply, and the deep sadness in his eyes told me hedidunderstand. It was an emptiness that only someone who had also experienced a deep grief would recognize. Michael had gone through something while I was gone.
“What happened?” I asked him, and his sad eyes lifted to mine with surprise. “The look in your eyes tells me you know a thing or two about loss.”
He nodded and looked off into the woods behind the cottage. “I had a girlfriend,” he started, and my heart broke at the past tense and the sorrow in his voice. Did she leave him? Had she died? “Kara. We met at the beginning of freshman year.”
Kara, I said to myself, wracking my memory. I remembered him talking about a girlfriend long ago when I’d call him, and I vaguely remembered the name Kara. So much of that time in my life was fuzzy. “You brought her home for Christmas?” I remembered him with a petite brunette at a holiday or two. They seemed happy.
“Sophomore and senior year,” he nodded.
His sophomore year was the last Christmas I’d spent with my family. I’d been so fragile after the initial infertility diagnosis, then the surgery shattered what little was left holding me together. I had such little hope left at that point, even though we hadn’t yet tried IVF. I hadn’t even wanted to see anyone for Christmas, but Danny put his foot down. That was the beginning of his frustration with me, but it certainly wasn’t the end.
“What happened?” I asked, squeezing his arm.
His eyes turned glassy, and I leaned my head on his shoulder in silent support. My little brother was taller than me now, so it was the best I could do. I hated that whatever happened between him and Kara had hurt him so deeply.
“She left.”
“You guys broke up?” I asked, uncertain as to what he meant.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He kicked at the gravel. “I guess so. One day everything was fine. We graduated, spent the summer together…we had plans that included each other. They always included each other.” He furrowed his eyebrows as if he still didn’t understand what had gone wrong. I could relate, sort of. Danny and I always had plans that included each other, only I knew what went wrong.Iwent wrong. “Then one day she was gone,” he added solemnly.
“She left without saying anything?” I frowned. That didn’t seem right.
He nodded. “We were living together. I bought a small house on Cedar with my inheritance.” My siblings and I each got a modest inheritance from our grandparents, our mom’s parents, when they’d passed away. “It wasn’t much, but it was enough for us. She loved it. At least, I thought she did. She’d gone to school for photojournalism and got a spot on the paper with Dad and Melissa. It was low level, she wouldn’t let me call in any favors because she wanted to earn her way, but she was proud of it and I was proud of her.” He looked at me with tears in his eyes. “We were happy, Jess. We weren’t living the American Dream just yet, but we were getting there. I was going to propose to her on our four-year anniversary. Then one day I went home, and she was gone. All her things, every trace of her…just gone.”
“Have you heard from her since?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Not one word,” he said as he looked away from me and tried to discretely wipe his eyes. “I called her parents, even showed up at their house. They said she was abroad, took some assignment from a travel magazine or something.”
“Is that true?” I asked.
“No,” he scoffed. “She was terrified of flying. She never would have traveled overseas. Not even by boat.”
