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Page 2


  I sat down on the bench closest to the playground and leaned back. I flipped the tab back on my coffee and took a sip before I set it down on the bench next to me and turned my attention to the numerous people going back and forth on the sidewalk.

  I saw a great number of different people. Some were small children walking with their parents, some were teenagers rolling by on skateboards. But it was the face that I least expected to see that stood the hair on the back of my neck up.

  The face that was the reason my childhood was shittier than it should be. The same face that was at my mother’s funeral.

  It was Bobby Taylor and he started smiling as soon as he saw that I was alone on the bench.

  Four

  I resisted the urge to throw my piping hot cup of coffee at him and run. As he got closer to me, I silently thanked my body for going into partial paralysis mode, because I realized it wasn’t Cousin Bobby at all.

  It was just someone that looked so much like him, that it still left me cringing on the inside. He even has tattoos on his fucking arms, just like Bobby.

  He walked over to the bench next to mine and sat down. That was when I made another realization; he hadn’t been smiling at me, he had been squinting because of the sunlight.

  I tore my eyes away from him and reached for my cup, taking another sip of coffee before I set it down again. I only hoped I was going to go through my motions of repetition to calm myself down because I’d be all out of coffee and still glued to my seat in somewhat fear.

  I scooched myself down the bench trying to be as imperceptible as I could and turned my face away from him. So much for a relaxing day of people watching.

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he asked me.

  “It was,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “Sorry?”

  “I said it is,” I replied.

  I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me and I didn’t care. Anyone that looked like my own personal boogey man wasn’t anyone I wanted to be around.

  Absently, I reached over for my cup of coffee and wound up knocking off the bench. Classic case of overreaching; kind of like when you think you’ve got one more stair to go and as it turns out you’re on the ground floor already.

  “Fuck!” I yelled out. It was a frustrated cry of anger and pain because of the hot coffee.

  He quickly got to his feet and came over to help me grab the lid of the cup and the cup itself, while I tried to brush off the hot liquid that was stinging me like a pack of rabid bees.

  “I’ve got it,” I snapped, grabbing the small amount of debris from his hands. I stalked to the nearest garbage can and tossed the cup and lid in, before I turned to face him. It was unfair of me to be such a cunt to him just because he looked like someone I hated so much.

  “Thanks. Sorry I yelled at you. This shit burns,” I replied, kicking my right foot an inch of the ground.

  He nodded, “I can understand that. It’s okay. I’m pretty sure I would’ve yelled fuck too.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest I sighed. I didn’t want to be near him anymore, but I had to find a reason to excuse myself. Ever since I had been out from under the iron grip of my mother, I had made it a point to be nice to strangers. For the most part, anyway.

  “Listen, I’ve gotta go. My brothers are waiting for me,” I lied.

  “Have a good one,” he said, nodding again as he went back to his bench and sat down.

  I walked quickly away from the park and back to the coffee shop. I went straight to the bathroom, wet a couple of paper towels, and started to wipe the sticky residue of spilled coffee off my legs when my phone rang.

  I crumpled up the dirty paper towels and tossed them into the garbage can before I reached into my pocket and slid the answer button on the screen.

  “Yeah?”

  “Whoa, whoa! Aren’t you all kinds of happy today,” Jeremy said.

  “Sorry,” I replied.

  “What’s got you feeling so friendly?” he asked curiously. I rolled my eyes and walked out of the bathroom. Ethan was as much as the father figure as much as Jeremy was the best friend.

  “Spilled hot coffee all over my fucking legs,” I said, pushing the door to the shop open. I decided that today obviously wasn’t a good day for people watching and I just wanted to go home and take a shower.

  “No wonder you’re not home,” he said with a laugh.

  “Wait, are you at my apartment?” I asked.

  “How else would I know you weren’t home, little sister,” he teased.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay?” I giggled because as it turned out, I had been apparently telling the truth to Bobby’s twin after all.

  Jeremy said he would wait for me and ended the call. I picked up the pace because if Jeremy was willing to wait, he either had something for me or had something he wanted to talk to me about without Ethan around.

  I loved my brother, but he tried so hard to constantly pull secrets out of me and I would never give in. He once told me that he knew I was going to take a shit ton of secrets to the grave and while he envied my ability to hold onto them, he always worried that one of them would kill me one day.

  I shook my head and power walked the rest of the way home thinking of Jeremy sitting in the hallway outside of my apartment door, ready to dial 911 if another moment passed without me showing up.

  Seven minutes later, I was proud of myself for shaving time off the usual walk. I went into the building, through the lobby and to the elevator where I pressed the button. I didn’t feel like walking up the stairs today and I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t call the police at this point since I was three minutes ahead of schedule.

  The elevator dinged to let me know it had arrived and I stepped in, pressed the four button, and waited as it started to ascend.

  After a slow crawl, I finally reached my floor and stepped out. I bumped into Jeremy who apparently had no elevator etiquette.

  “Going somewhere?” I asked with a laugh.

  “Ha! Sorry! I need to use the bathroom and I was gonna go to the lobby one while I waited for you.”

  “Wait no more, big brother, for I have arrived,” I said, fishing out my keys and motioning for him to follow me to my apartment.

  Jeremy laughed as we walked to my door. When he and Ethan bought me this place, I tried to give them each a set of keys, but they refused them. They said they didn’t to be like Violet who had taken our doors off the hinges. It was her way of making absolute sure that none of us were sinning as she put it.

  I placed the key in the keyhole and unlocked it before stepping out the way and making a grand gesture to him. With a smirk and a “smartass” he walked straight to the bathroom.

  I closed the door behind me and went back to the table I was so fond of. I dropped my keys, my phones, my cigarettes, and my lighter down before propping my legs on the tabletop.

  I heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on and off, before Jeremy came out of the bathroom and sat down at the seat next to me.

  “Have you talked to Ethan today?” he asked, leaning back in the seat and clasping his hands behind his back.

  “Nope.

  “So you don’t know then,” he continued mysteriously.

  “Know what?” I asked, reaching for my cigarettes and offering him one. Jeremy declined; he always did even though I knew he was a closet smoker.

  “Dad killed himself today.”

  Five

  As Ethan drove the three of us to the funeral home, I sighed loudly. I felt Jeremy’s hand come from the backseat to give my shoulder a squeeze.

  There were many reasons I didn’t want to go through this again and one of the main ones was because I didn’t have anything to wear. I had purchased what I had worn to Violet’s services at a secondhand shop and I threw it away afterwards. The other main reason I didn’t want to go was because I didn’t know him. He was my father and I didn’t know him, so how could I mourn his loss?

  Of course Ethan wasn’t going to
let me stay home because of having nothing to wear and no one to mourn.

  “Neither of us want to be there Jude,” he had said to me when I called him. “But if it wasn’t for him doing his part, we wouldn’t be here, you know? Put on a nice pair of jeans and a nice shirt, because you’re going. We all are.”

  “It’ll be over before you know it,” Jeremy assured me.

  “I hope so. I’m getting sick of having to pretend these things hurt,” I mumbled, smacking his hand away.

  Jeremy laughed and leaned back against his seat, “I could’ve driven myself, you know.”

  “I’m aware of that, but not showing up for the last five minutes until it was over again isn’t exactly what I was hoping for this time,” Ethan said giving him a pointed look in the rearview mirror.

  “Whatever,” he grumbled in response.

  I glanced at Ethan who turned his attention away from Jeremy back toward the road. Five minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home and parked.

  “Listen, I know that none of us want to be here. If anything, I’m probably the only one of us that sort of remembers him, and I don’t want to be here either. The reason we’re doing this is because even though he wasn’t there, he’s still our father and we have to show some kind of unity at this damn thing,” he said rubbing his hands tiredly over his eyes.

  I unlocked my seatbelt and pushed my door open. I hovered half out of the car before I turned and glanced at Ethan.

  “What was his name, anyway?” I asked curiously.

  “Thomas.”

  I nodded and stepped fully out of the car, closing the door behind me. Neither of my brothers knew, but I had planned a little speech that I was going to deliver when it became open mic night inside.

  We used the same funeral home we had for Violet so I knew just where to go. I signed the book, grabbed a prayer card, and went to sit in the big comfy couches reserved for family members. Ethan and Jeremy sat on either side of me and we watched as people came in to pay their respects. There were just as many for Thomas as there were for Violet and I found myself wondering how was it possible that two people that I could care less for were obviously loved so much?

  I waited while everyone took turns kneeling in front of Thomas’ casket. I waited while people cried and hugged each other and I waited while I wondered what exactly he had done that was so amazing that so many people cared about him.

  Then came the part that I was finally looking for. Father Whoever was up there delivering his Shepherd speech and eventually he asked if anyone had anything they wanted to say about Thomas.

  “Me,” I announced, promptly getting to my feet.

  “Jude,” Ethan whispered urgently reaching for me. I moved quickly out of his reach and went to the podium, putting my hands on either side.

  Jeremy was giving me an impressed look and I smiled. The two of us looked a lot like Violet so whenever he smiled at me with his big blue eyes and dark brown hair, I couldn’t help but feel like I was looking into a reflection of sorts. Ethan on the other hand, looked absolutely horrified about what I may or may not say.

  “Hi there. My name is Jude McIntyre,” I said, scratching my head. “I’m Thomas’ daughter for anyone that didn’t know. I mean, I’m sure some of you knew, but I sure didn’t until Violet died a few months ago. Anyway, I just wanted to say that while I appreciate that some of you may genuinely be mourning this man, I can’t.”

  “Jude,” Ethan said more sternly.

  I held up a hand to him to let me finish. Jeremy nudged him and shook his head slightly. Apparently he seemed to be interested in what else I had to say.

  “I’m not up here to make anyone feel bad for mourning him. I’m not. I just wanted you to know that I won’t stand here and pretend that I’m hurt over a man that left Violet, Ethan, Jeremy, and myself when I was still in utero somewhere. I didn’t know him, so I can’t say that I’m hurting right now or pretty much that I care. I guess I’m done. I just didn’t want to hear anymore stupid whispering about why I wasn’t crying.”

  As I started to walk away from the podium, I stopped in front of the casket and looked at Thomas. Apparently he had hanged himself, which is why his shirt was buttoned all the way up. I tilted my head to the side. Even asleep he looked so much like my oldest brother.

  Which reminds me.

  “For the record, I was speaking for myself. Not Ethan and Jeremy, so if anyone has any issues with what I just said, make sure your issues are with me and not them.”

  Jeremy gave me an approving grin and a nod, while Ethan sat there with his elbow on the arm of the couch and his face in his hand.

  “That was awesome kid,” Jeremy whispered when I dropped down between the two of them. I grinned at him and turned my attention back to the priest who was looking at me uncomfortably.

  “Does anyone else have anything they would like to share about Thomas? Anything positive?” he added hastily.

  I leaned a head on Ethan’s shoulder to sort of apologize for what I had just done. He never talked about Thomas so I wasn’t sure if the memories he did have of him were good ones. He took a deep breath, before he adjusted himself on the couch and leaned his cheek onto the top of my head.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t be. You were always braver than me,” he whispered back.

  A couple of more people stood up and said their piece on the man that was one half of our conception team, then it was time for everyone to leave.

  I got up and walked over to the priest and thanked him for his services and also apologized for catching him off guard. He gave me a weary smile in return.

  “That was bold.”

  I turned my head slightly to the left and saw Bobby’s twin standing in the doorway.

  “You know, I’m all for stalkers, but this is a bit much,” I replied rolling my eyes.

  “Stalkers would be more than just twice and I’m here because Thomas was my dad’s best friend,” he replied with a small smile.

  “Oh. Sorry for your loss then.”

  “I’d say likewise, but something tells me that wouldn’t have any bearing on your feelings right now,” he said, sliding his hands into his heather gray pants pockets.

  “Not in the least. Try him,” I replied, jerking my head toward Ethan.

  He glanced around me and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll go do that. It was nice and weird to see you again. Eventually it’ll be under better circumstances,” he said, walking away from me, shaking his head.

  Whatever that means, I thought walking out of the funeral parlor.

  Six

  Three weeks had passed since Thomas was thrown into a hole in the ground and I, for some reason, couldn’t get Bobby’s twin out of my head.

  I was at the point where I would go to the damn park on a daily basis to see if he was there and each day I came home disappointed. Stretched out on my living room couch, I reached across toward my table and grabbed my phone. I scrolled through my contacts until I found Jeremy’s name and hit dial.

  “Little sister!” he said happily as he answered the phone.

  “Hey Jer! I’ve got a question for you,” I said with a laugh.

  “What’s up?”

  “Did you see that guy at Thomas’ wake? The one that looked like Bobby?”

  “That kid that was talking to Ethan?” he asked.

  “Yes. Do you know his name by any chance?”

  “Nope. I’m sure Ethan does though,” he replied.

  “Okay. Thanks,” I said quietly.

  “Got a crush on him?” he teased.

  “No. I was just curious about his name,” I said quickly.

  Jeremy sighed, probably to stifle the laugh he almost let out. “Let me call him and ask him. I’ll call you back.”

  He hit the disconnect button before I had a chance to pull my head away from the phone. I set it on my chest and turned my attention back to the true crime television program I had been trying to watch. Thirteen minutes and o
ne commercial later, my phone vibrated.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Adam Weaver. Twenty four years old. Currently single,” Jeremy said, like he was repeating a check list.

  “Um, I asked for his name only. No other vital stats needed,” I replied uncomfortably.

  “I know. I thought if I was going to pick bro’s brain, I might as well get all the info I could out of him. By the way, Adam told Ethan that he thought you were pretty and asked for your stats. Want his number?” he asked with a devious chuckle.

  “No. Jackass,” I said, before I promptly hit the disconnect button on the phone.

  I put my phone down on my chest again and wondered if Adam really did think I was pretty. I didn’t even know if Bobby had thought I was pretty, so much an easy target.

  My phone suddenly gave three short vibrations, letting me know I had received a text message. It was Jeremy and all he sent me was a series of numbers followed by “call it.”

  I replied with one word; dick.

  I put my phone down again and I knew that my brother was sitting in his home or wherever he was laughing about this entire situation. I picked up my phone and opened Jeremy’s message. He hadn’t replied to me and I was boring a hole into Adam’s phone number with my eyes.

  Fuck it.

  I decided to save it to my contact list and hit the message button.

  Hey there. It’s Jude McIntyre.

  I groaned at my generic message but sent it anyway. For all I knew, this was a prank concocted by both of the McIntyre boys and I was probably texting a Rabbi or something. My phone vibrated jostling me from the revenge I was already plotting against the two of them. With a glance down at the screen I saw the following message.

  Hey Jude McIntyre. This is Adam Weaver.

  Guess it wasn’t a joke after all.

  I didn’t want to seem too eager so I didn’t respond right away. Instead I turned on my side, adjusted the pillow under my head, and watched another five minutes of the program. When yet the same commercial that seemed to have cornered the market on the damn channel came on, I replied to his message.