Page 113 of Between Never and Forever
After finding her with Savannah,I brought Brynn straight to the office to hang out with Sharon.
The urge to interrogate Brynn about what she’d said to Savannah and what they talked about was too strong. If I’d been my mother, I’d have punished her with some archaic and cruel practice sure to leave lasting scars. I’m not my mother. I’ve sworn to never be my mother. But fuck if I’m not totally lost in this parenting thing sometimes.
Sometimes the only guidelines I have are hownotto be. My mom and dad set great examples for that. Julianna’s parents were worse, so together, Jules and I were often just fumbling messes, trying to navigate raising a kid while also dealing with the shadow of Jules’s disease. It’s been anything but normal, and Sharon tells me all the time that I’m doing the best I can. That should be enough, but sometimes...it’s just not.
Sharon tells me that she and Brynn are going to attend the church fish fry tonight, which I totally forgot about.
I have to remind myself regularly that the church Sharon attends now is not the same corrupt organization that my father led. They’re more accepting. They don’t condone child abuse. They don’t send “troubled young girls” to live in dangerous fake foster homes simply to get them out of the way. So, I promise them both that I will make an appearance at the fish fry, and then I make myself scarce.
I drive to the River View neighborhood to check on the rebuilds. We’ve run into a snag with the plumbing in one of our last houses, so I send a text to Sharon that she’ll have to reach out to our private donor. We deal directly with the estate lawyer and accountant, and so far, they haven’t turned us down once.
I go through the same routine for the next few days. Office, work inspections, office, sleep. But by Friday, my luck has run out.
When I get back to my house, the sun is setting, but the film crew is still hard at work. I sneak through the front door and into the part of my house that’s been partitioned off before stepping out onto the deck.
There are dark clouds and flashes of lightning on the horizon, giving the water a rough, dangerous aura. From the way the crew is scrambling, they’re rushing to get the last scene shot before they get rained out.
I can just make out Savannah down on the beach, the perfect silhouette of her body displayed starkly against the water, as if summoning the impending storm. I can’t hear her lines, if there are any at all, but I stand on the deck and watch until someone shouts CUT over a loudspeaker. When the crew starts packing up and everyone begins to disperse, I should turn around and head inside. I should continue to avoid her like I have all day.
I don’t.
I watch as her silhouette grows larger, until I can just make out the skimpy black bikini they have her in, showing off her sleeve of fake tattoos. I wonder if they’ve left the real tattoo on her back for the movie, or if they’ve covered it up with makeup.
I stare at her, willing her to turn around so I can see for myself. To assuage my curiosity and feed my craving. Instead, as if she can feel my gaze, she looks up and her eyes meet mine. She stops walking and stares up at me, face blank. I stare back. When she nods discreetly toward the side of my house, I don’t question it. I just turn and walk down the deck stairs, meeting her in a matter of seconds. I know what’s coming, and something inside me has been longing for this conversation for years.
When Savannah opens her mouth, her question shoots out quickly, like it’s been sitting on the tip of her tongue for hours, fighting to get past her teeth, and she’s finally released it.
“Did you marry her because she got sick?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want Brynn to be alone,” I say honestly. “I didn’t want Julianna to have to go through it by herself—raising a toddler while trying to go through treatments for cancer. She didn’t deserve that. Brynn didn’t.”
“How old was Brynn when Julianna got sick?”
“Two the first time. Four the second.”
She runs her eyes over my face, and when she speaks next, the question is softer. More tentative, like she’s afraid of the answer.
“Did you love her?”
Savannah doesn’t specify, but she doesn’t have to. I know she’s talking about Julianna. I shake my head once and answer without hesitation.
“Not like that.”
I don’t finish. I don’t say what I want to.I didn’t love her like I loved you.
“Why still wear the ring, then?”
I shrug.
“Keeps the Larks happy thinking I’m still mourning their daughter. Keeps people from trying to set me up.”
And it keeps women from thinking I’ll ever let them become more. Because the only woman I’ve ever wanted more with is standing right in front of me.
I keep my mouth shut, and the silence between us stretches.
