Resist

He turned out of the airport and onto the road that took us to the beach. It was a forty-five-minute drive to where Garrett had moved. But I hadn’t seen his new place. I didn’t know where he worked. I didn’t know the guys he hung around with.

The guilt ate away at me. For the first time in our lives, I knew almost nothing about his daily life. And this was the time I needed that information the most.

I stared out the window as the sports car climbed over a bridge. I looked down below at the sailboats in the marina. It was a gray dreary day. The kind that made me want to curl under the covers and sleep until the clouds passed. A day I’d much rather spend with Vaughn, reading and working on crosswords. A day we could lock ourselves away from the reality of my family.

I wish I knew how to do that. How to build a wall around the cracks in my heart to spare myself this pain. To protect myself from the lunging claws that wanted to drag me down into depths I couldn’t escape. I was so lost in it until I met Vaughn. He un-broke me.

And it never felt more apparent than it did right now.

Our months together had been a shield from this. With Vaughn I figured out how to live with a new focus. A new goal. One that didn’t include Garrett’s vices and the stain he had smeared on my choices. Every one had been for him. I had sacrificed so much for my brother. For his illness. And until Vaughn, no one had looked out for me. No one cared if I was happy. If I was following my dreams. Pushing forward to make something out of my life.

Finding someone to love had rescued me from the cycle. Vaughn had inexplicably put me back together when I hadn’t asked for it. He knew I needed it before I did.

My phone rang.

“If that’s your mother tell her we’re taking care of this.” My father’s voice was gruff.

It was Mom. I tucked the phone close to my ear.

“Hello.”

“Honey, are you here? Are you coming to the house?” One word piled on the next.

“I’m with Dad.” I looked at my driver. He was almost a stranger to me. “We’re going to Garrett’s work and apartment. I can call you when we get to the beach. Let me get there so I can try to get a handle on things.”

“I want to go with you.”

I closed my eyes. I knew she would want to be a part of this. But putting my parents together would only slow us down. Crisis didn’t draw them together. The

y reacted like gasoline being doused on a flame until it was so out of control the fire couldn’t be put out. I couldn’t let them near each other right now.

“I think you need to stay at the house in case Garrett calls or shows up,” I lied. “Someone needs to stay in New Bern.”

“Then your father can stay and you and I will go look for him. He doesn’t get a say in this. Put him on the phone. I want to talk to him.”

“No, Mom. That’s not a good idea. He’s driving.”

“I don’t care, Elliot. He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to decide to suddenly be a parent. Put him on the phone.”

My father glanced at me. He knew she was upset. He had predicted it. He had tried to avoid it.

“I’m not going to do that.” I sighed. “I’ll call you when we get to Garrett’s. I will.”

“I can’t sit here like this,” she pleaded. “He doesn’t have a right to search for him while I stay at the house.”

Sitting. Waiting. They were the actions that led to crazy. The futility of hoping the phone would ring. I knew it would tear at her. It would begin to corrode her sanity. But there was something practical about sticking with my dad. His lack of emotion. His ability to move forward when everyone else was paralyzed with emotion—that was what would help us find Garrett. My mother couldn’t get out of her own way. I didn’t have another option.

“Mom, please…” I knew anything I said wouldn’t matter. She’d be hurt I left her. She’d be angry thinking I chose my father over her to help. “Just, hang in there. I’ll call you soon. We’re going to find him. I love you.”

I hung up and clasped the phone in my lap. I waited for it to ring. She usually called back within minutes, but a few miles later she still hadn’t tried.

“Want to stop to get some coffee or something?” Dad offered.

I nodded. “Yes. Coffee would be good.”

He pulled into a fast-food restaurant, ordering two coffees at the drive-thru. At the window he took one and passed it to me. He drove off before I could ask for creamer. He didn’t bother to ask me.

I pressed the plastic piece in the lid to let the steam escape.