Rusty exhales, his face a picture of agony and fury when he nods, then he clears his throat. “And you have to know, Cherry, that I did everything to try to save your mother,everything.”
I shuffle closer to the edge of the couch, gripping onto my mug tighter when my hands start to shake. “Did you know her? My mother?” I can feel Harlen push himself closer to me, anchoring me.
He nods again, then sucks in a breath, falling back into his seat. “And you know what’s so fucked, I never connected the dots, not once. I had just thought it was some stupid motherfucker who did a hit and run. I didn’t once think thathewas the cause, thathewas as sick and fucked up as he was.” Rusty’s hands are back in his hair, gripping the strands roughly. “When I noticed your mother had stopped coming around to the clubhouse prior to the accident, I had asked Manic what happened, and he told me that he got bored of her, that he wasdone.”
His eyes flick to Harlen’s. “Do you remember her?” he asks, and I turn over my shoulder to see Harlen’s eyes narrowed like he’s in deep thought.
“Who?” he asks, wrapping his hand around my bouncing knee in comfort when it only picks up rhythm.
“You don’t rememberRed?” Rusty questions.
Harlen takes a sip of his drink, then coughs. “Yeah, I remember Red.”
Rusty jerks his chin toward me. “Red was Cherry’s mother.”
“Holy fuck, Mom and her…” Harlen stops talking when his father raises his hand again in pause.
Rusty flicks his pained eyes back to mine. “Your mother and Summer were best friends.”
My mouth pops open, and I lean over, placing my mug down before it slips from my palms. Harlen squeezes my thigh harder.
“I-I-I…” I stutter over my words, and then I take a deep breath, lacing my trembling fingers between Harlen’s. “I had no idea.” I’m shaking my head. “I didn’t even know she had a best friend.”
Rusty nods. “Doesn’t surprise me. Your father didn’t like her. Well, not her, exactly. It was the club he didn’t like. He didn’t want your mother to be friends with her, or to be anywhere near any of us, for that matter.” He shrugs, and then exhales. “Well, that’s what Summer had told me.”
I remember hearing heated arguments between my mother and father, but I never knew what they were about. That’s whenI turned my music on and danced. I had to find a way to drown them out.
Rusty pulls my attention back to him. “When we lost Summer, your mother was a mess, and shortly after that, your mother and father had taken a break.”
It all makes sense.
I remember it vividly.
Because my father’s back was the first I ever saw.
“Brody, please don’t go,” my mother begs quietly.
I had been trying to mind my business for the past half hour as my father packed the last of his clothes into his suitcase, wheeled it out the door, and threw it in the trunk of his SUV. He had a job he needed to tend to in LA for three months. It had been planned for well over a year.
I watch from the front window in the living room as he walks up the porch steps, meeting my mother at the top. She looks unwell. She hadn’t stopped crying for what felt like weeks. I had asked her what was wrong. She wouldn’t tell me anything, only saying that life was cruel and unfair.
I didn’t quite understand.
I wished Keaton was here, only I hadn’t seen him in weeks.
My father’s hands meet my mother’s cheeks, as he presses his forehead to hers, and she latches her fingers tightly around his forearms. I shuffle myself closer to the open window, listening carefully.
“Please stay, Brody. They’ll be okay without you, but please don’t leave me. I need you.” I listen to my mother plead, though it was like my father couldn’t hear her, or he simply didn’t want to. Even though he cared about her, about us, he could never separate himself from his work.
“Cherry, this job is so fucking important. I have to go.”
“Please, Brody,” she whimpers.
“I have to go,” my father repeats, flicking his chin toward the house. “Blaine will look after you.”
“Brody, I need you, what don’t you understand? I just lost…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.
“I know, and I told you not to get involved with…” His voice fades, and I strain to hear what he says, but I miss it.
