Sparrow (8 page)

~~~~

That was the summer I
fell in love with, and lost, Addison Parks.

~~~~

The Present

~

October 2013

Eight years later

Rounding
the all-too-familiar corner, my new baby slows.  Not because she wants to, but
because I make her.  Lifting my foot off the accelerator, my truck gently rolls
to a stop.  It sits idle, in the middle of the dirt road, as I stare out the open
window.

Everything
looks the same.

Overgrown,
but still the same.

My
eye catches the small garden I planted by the cottage all those years ago. 
It’s not little anymore.  The rhododendron has taken over, nearly choking out
the hydrangeas.  I always reminded Gram to cut it back in the fall, but she
refused.  She said she wanted me to do it; she said didn’t want to mess it up
and ruin the bush.

She
was trying to get me to come back here.

I
blink, and the ghost of a girl I once knew appears.  She stands in front of the
plants, just like she did the day we went to the Falls, and she smiles at me. 
I focus on her face, a face I remember all too well, and when the wind blows,
she’s carried away.  Dry fall leaves swirl where she stood, and I take a deep
breath.

I’ve
only been here five minutes and my mind is already fucking with me.

Releasing
the air trapped in my lungs, I turn the steering wheel and pull into the gravel
drive.  I knew coming to the lake would be hard, but for different reasons.  No,
I’m not stupid to think the memories of that summer wouldn’t surface.  I just
thought they would take a day or two to fully resurrect themselves.  It’s been
a long time, and I have more important things to do than take a walk down
memory lane.

As
I sit and wait for Kevin, my eyes unwillingly land on the front door of the
cottage.  Any minute I expect Gram to burst forth, all smiles and hugs mixed
with harsh words for me.  Words that say she’s happy to see me
here
and
not at home.  Words that say she needs my help and she’s been waiting.  Words
that say “Dinner will be ready at four o’clock.”

The
door remains closed.

The
longer I stare at it, the more it starts to blur around the edges.  I clear my
throat and focus on my phone, picking it up off the seat to find out where my
brother is.  I will not cry.  The first time I did was two weeks ago.

At
Gram’s funeral.

~~~~

“How
many do you want?”

“How
many can you carry?”

As
dusk settles over the lake, Kevin and I decide to call it a day with the
decision making.  Neither of us has answers for the questions we ask, and I,
for one, am getting a headache.  We’re supposed to be sorting through Gram’s
things, boxing certain items to take back home, leaving others, and throwing
useless stuff away.  The problem is neither of us knows where to begin or what
our mother wants us to bring home from this place.  She never gave two shits
about it before, but suddenly, when it was revealed that Kevin and I inherited
the joint, she wants us to bring home memories.

Of
what?

It’s
not like she can’t come up here whenever she wants.  Her sons own the place, or
will as soon as the estate is settled.  While she deals with her mother’s
affairs back home, we’re up here, standing in the living room, lost.  Yes, the
cottage and its contents are technically ours, but neither of us wants to throw
away anything of Gram’s.  Who are we to decide what to keep and what to donate? 
It’s frustrating and not a task that’s going to get finished in the few days
we’ve taken off work.

I
glance at Kevin, who has his head stuck in the refrigerator.  When he backs up,
he kicks the door shut. He holds up both hands, revealing a case of Budweiser
in one and a six-pack of Corona in the other.  He smirks.  “This should get us
started.”

I
grab a lighter out of the kitchen drawer and make sure it works by flicking the
switch.  A blue flame dances before my eyes.   “I agree.  Let’s get lit.”

We
wander down to the fire pit near the water’s edge with our supplies, plus two plastic
patio chairs.  As I carry them in front of me, I stare at the ground so I won’t
trip down the hill.  I think about how drunk I want to get and imagine
stumbling back up to the house later.  I probably should have brought a
flashlight.

When
we reach the pit, I set the chairs near one another as Kevin places the beer on
the ground.  He begins piling logs in his arms from a nearby stack, and I head
off into the brush to find some tinder.  Not thinking, I walk to the left and,
through naked tree branches, my eyes fall on Addison’s cottage.  In the hazy
twilight it looks vacant, almost haunted.  Gram told me Addison and her family
disappeared from the lake just like they disappeared from their home.  Just like
she disappeared from my life.

Momentarily
still, I think back to the countless times I called her cell in that first
year, just to hear her voice tell me she was unavailable.  I’d be lying if I said
I didn’t pray that she would pick up every time I called.  Her voice was
eventually replaced by an electronic one, telling me the number had been disconnected. 
I can still remember the way I felt in that moment – like a boulder had crushed
my chest.

The
memory tempts others, and I will my mind not to go there.  I was in a dark
place for a long time, a place where I felt betrayed, denied, and lied to.  A
place full of hurt and worry.  I was an egotistical kid who didn’t get his way;
a kid who didn’t understand.

I
still don’t understand.

Crouching
down, I begin to gather sticks, dry leaves, and pine needles.  It’s been a
rough week.  I need a beer.

Or
twelve.

Before
long, Kev and I are feeling much more relaxed as we watch the flames of the
bonfire dance in front us.  I feel hypnotized by the orange colors, probably
because I’m buzzed and the heat is making me tired.

“It’s
weird, isn’t it?” my brother asks.  “I can picture Gram sitting in the living
room, waiting for us to put out the fire and come to bed.”

I
give him half a smile.  She was always worried we would burn the place down. 
“I know.  I keep expecting her to yell out the window to wrap it up.”

He
laughs.  “Me, too.”

Silence
reigns as we think about Gram.  I hate that she had a heart attack; I hate that
she was ripped from us so suddenly.  The only thing that keeps me sane is the
thought that she’s with Pop again.

“Oh,”
my brother says, simultaneously remembering and swallowing.  “Did you get the Schuster
contract?  The old man finally signed.”

I
nod as I drop my empty can by my chair and lean over to grab another full one. 
“Yeah.  I checked my email while I was waiting for you.”  The wireless
reception at the lake has greatly improved over the years.  “What did you have
to give up?”

He
gets cocky.  “Ten percent.”

I
shoot him a suspicious look.  “That’s all?”

Kevin
settles into his chair with a smug expression.  “That’s all.”

“After
the hell he put us through?  He settled on ten percent?”

“It’s
called the art of negotiation, my brother.  You could learn a thing or two from
me.”

Kevin
takes a swig of his beer and my eyes narrow.  He loves to rub it in that I will
never possess the skills he has.

After
the first year of trying to run my own landscaping company, I realized I needed
some serious help.  The horticulture, design, and creativity I could nail with
no problem.  It was the client schmoozing and number crunching I couldn’t get a
hold on.  I needed someone to handle the business side of things.  My work
spoke for itself, but I needed to build a client base.  I needed a clone, someone
to promote my business so I could stay on-site.  Kevin fit the bill.  Pair his
analytical mind with his smooth talking, and you’ve got a lethal combination.  There
is no one I can trust more than my brother.  He’s family.

And
my best friend.

Despite
my reminiscing, I respond to his statement with a sarcastic, “Whatever.  You
may be able to sell ice to Eskimos, but you suck at telling time.  Why were you
so late today?”

He
raises an eyebrow suggestively over his Corona.  “I got tied up with the new girlfriend.”

I
shake my head.  Knowing my brother, he probably means literally.  “Is this the
hot blonde?”

“The
same.”

I
haven’t met Kevin’s new girl yet.  If I remember right, they met just before
Gram died.  “I take it things are good?”

At
first he gives me a sly smile, but then it turns more reserved, almost shy. 
This is a new look for him.  When it comes to discussing women, he’s usually
pretty sure of himself.  After a few moments, my little brother sighs and says,
“She’s…different.”

My
eyes grow wide with surprise.  He’s used a lot of words to describe the girls
he dates, but ‘different’ has never been one of them.  “How so?”

He
concentrates on the Corona bottle in his hands, scratching at the label with
his thumb.  “I don’t know how to explain it.  I’ve never felt this way before.” 
He pauses.  “It’s like I’m not breathing unless I’m with her.  She’s my air.” 
He looks at me.  “You know?”

My
face falls because, unfortunately, I do know.  I want to ask him if he had the
forever moment, but I stop myself.  Obviously those don’t exist.  That feeling
is just a sick trick your heart plays on you when you’re infatuated.

When
I don’t answer his question, he mumbles, “I think I’m in love with her.”

My
face pinches in doubt.  “Are you sure?  You guys have only been dating for
what, a couple weeks?”

Kevin
tosses me an irritated glance.  “Have you ever heard me talk about a girl like
that before?”

“No.”

“Then
I’m sure.”

“Kev,”
I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, “all I’m saying is to give it
some time.  It seems pretty quick to fall that hard.”

He
lets out a sarcastic snort.

“What?”

“You
of all people…”  He shakes his head then gives me a pointed look.  “You’re the
last person who should be giving out relationship advice.”

That
hits a nerve.  “Excuse me?”

He
raises his bottle to his lips then looks at the fire.  “Never mind.”

“No.” 
He can’t drop something like that and expect me to forget it.  “What are you
trying to say?”  I know I don’t have the best track record when it comes to
women, but I have learned a thing or two.  Let’s see Kevin smooth talk his way
out of this one.

He
takes a deep breath, realizing he should have kept his mouth shut.  He slides
to the edge of his chair, so he’s closer to me.  He’s sets his bottle on the
ground and says, “Let’s start with Monica.  Exhibit A.”

Oh,
here we go.  “That’s not fair.  She moved away for college.  Not my fault.” 
Monica and I dated briefly when I was nineteen.  “We weren’t even together six
months.”

“But,”
Kevin holds up a finger, “she was your first serious relationship after
Addison.”

My
body tenses at the sound of her name.  It shouldn’t affect me after all these
years, and I get defensive.  “I would hardly call what Monica and I had a
serious thing.  We messed around.”

“What
did she say to you before she left, though?  What was a deciding factor in her
move?”

I
can’t believe he remembers this.  “She said I didn’t love her.”  It’s the
truth.  I didn’t.

“Okay. 
Now we can move on to Courtney.”

“Seriously?”

“You
dated for two years!  I think she qualifies as a relationship.”

I
concede with a nod, but protest, “She left me.  I didn’t leave her.”  I
remember the day she broke it off, telling me her parents had set her up with a
family friend.  She had been seeing Eric for a few weeks, and I never even
realized it.  She wasn’t lying when she said I didn’t pay enough attention.  I
didn’t.

“Courtney
was sick of putting up with your shit,” Kevin says.  “You never focused on
her.”

“I
was twenty-two!  I wasn’t ready to settle down.”  Not that I cheated on her,
but if the guys wanted to go out, I went with them.  If there was a game on,
I’d watch it.  Plus, I was beginning to put some real effort into starting up
the business.  “What else you got?”

My
brother sighs.  “What about Jen?”

His
question takes me by surprise.  He can’t possibly know about Jen; she just
packed the last of her things yesterday.  “What about her?”

“She
moved out.”

“How
do you know?”

“You
forget we were friends before I introduced you.”

Evidently
Jen’s been talking to my brother behind my back.  I’m curious and pissed at the
same time.  “What did she say?”

“She
said she tried, Kyle.  She really tried.”

I
can’t control my sarcasm.  “Last I checked, moving out isn’t trying.”