Page 64 of When the Storm Breaks
“What kind of crazy trip?”
“Peyote in the desert. I went on a vision quest.”
“Holy shit. You tried that?”
“Yeah. Not sure I’d recommend it. It really fucks with your head.”
“And you had visions?”
He nodded. “I wanted to escape them so in the beginning, I was fighting it tooth and nail which only made it worse. Until finally, I gave in and I went along for the journey.”
“And did you come out in a better place?”
“I think so, yeah. Not that I have all the answers or that shit doesn’t affect me when I let it get to me, but I started to learn how to let it go. And I’ve been trying to do it ever since. With varying degrees of success. Some things are harder to let go than others.”
“Like when you’re in love with someone who’s not yours?”
I expected him to leave right then and there or to tell me to mind my own damn business. But he was still holding me, and he hadn’t gone anywhere. “I let that go a long time ago. I think there’s all different kinds of love and I don’t love Lila the same way Jude does. Some people just aren’t meant to be together. It would never have worked.”
I looked at his face to see if that made him sad, but I didn’t think it did. Then I thought about his words. “I should never have been with Dean. My ex-boyfriend,” I added in case he didn’t know.
“You loved him?”
“I did. Yes.” There was no point in lying. I’d loved Dean. Even now, when he’d given me no reason to care, I still worried about him. I hoped he’d find a way to be happy, but I didn’t know if Dean was even capable of that. “A part of me always will. But mostly because we have so much history.”
“That’s how it goes when you share a history with someone.”
“I’m glad I met you, Brody. I’m glad it was you.”
Before he could question the meaning of my words, I pulled his head down to mine for a kiss. I wanted to keep kissing him until I forgot the vision I’d had. I wanted to keep kissing him until the memory was imprinted on my brain, so I’d always remember this was a good time in my life. And long after I was gone, I could still carry the memory wherever I went.
When I’d asked Maw Maw to tell me who my one true love was, I hadn’t bothered to ask if I’d be able to keep him or even how long he’d be in my life. I wasn’t in love with Brody. Not yet anyway. But I thought he’d be so easy to love and so hard to let go.
Wrong place, wrong time.
Chapter Twenty
Brody
Kate’s60thbirthday fell on the first Saturday in June and we all wanted to do something special for her. Lila had suggested we throw a party but when Patrick found out, he told us he had it all under control and appointed himself the man in charge. That was the first flaw in the plan.
Kate claimed that the only thing she wanted was to spend it with her family. So, Gideon flew in from New York. And Jesse, who was supposed to have been in a motocross race that weekend had injured his shoulder the week before. Since he wasn’t able to ride, he made the trip home from California where he’d been living for the past two years.
On Friday evening, we were all summoned to the barn behind Patrick and Kate’s house. Over the years, it had gone through many incarnations. Back in high school, I’d moved my horses to Austin’s ranch and Patrick converted the barn into a gym. Now it was Patrick’s man cave/workshop.
I’d arrived ten minutes ago, and along with the others had carved my name onto the bottom of the oak farmhouse table Patrick had made for Kate. As far as I was concerned, this meeting was over, but Patrick asked us to stay and discuss logistics. For what? A surprise birthday dinner Kate was all too aware of?
It was already shaping up to be a typical family reunion. Everyone fell into their roles assigned during childhood. I was leaning against the wall next to the barn door trying to figure out why the hell this had merited a special meeting. Jude and Lila had claimed the old leather sofa and he had his arm around her. It was date night for them, so Kate had the kids and Lila was wearing one of her off-the-shoulder dresses, waves of glossy dark hair tumbling to her bare shoulders. Still as beautiful as ever.
Jesse was at the other end of the sofa, uploading selfies or whatever the hell he did on social media. He looked more like a California surfer dude than a motocross racer in his shorts, faded blue Quiksilver T-shirt and Vans. Growing up, everyone had always called him ‘adorable’ or worse, ‘pretty’, and even now in his mid-twenties, he still looked a lot younger than the rest of us. But I’d seen him ride and he was an animal, a competitive beast on a dirt bike. Since he’d gone pro at nineteen, he’d been inundated with sponsorships and endorsements who used his pretty face as the poster boy for motocross.
Gideon was sitting in Patrick’s old recliner, perched at the very edge of the seat as if he didn’t want the thread-bare fabric to sully his designer denim and tailored black button-up. It was hotter than balls in here, but I’d never seen Gideon so much as break a sweat. He always looked cool and composed, chronically bored, and made it abundantly clear he’d rather be getting root canal than spending time in Bumfuck, Texas as he called it. But he loved his mother so here he was, in Bumfuck.
“Pretty much what I expected,” Jude told Patrick after tomorrow’s plan had been revealed. “You’re not winning any prizes for your grand romantic gestures, Dad.”
Patrick speared him with a look. “Women don’t want grand romantic gestures. They want someone reliable who they can depend on. I’ve been by that woman’s side through thick and thin for thirty-five years. When you reach that milestone, be sure to let me know.”
That was one way to shut up Jude. He clenched his jaw and said nothing. Gideon snickered at his father’s words, eyes still glued to his phone.
