Bullets & Bonfires

“I bet now that their nest is empty it’s best to call ahead.”

It takes a minute for her meaning to sink in. “Thanks, Bree. Now I’m always going to have that in my head when I stop by.”

She laughs while I make a big show of shaking that mental image out of my head.

My parents have a decent amount of property a little outside the town limits. Not a lot of neighbors. Perfect for target practice and bonfires. Two of my favorite things when I was a kid.

“Man, my legs always got a workout when Vince and I rode our bikes over here,” she remarks as I steer the truck onto the narrow mountain road leading to their house. “I was so happy when he finally got his license.”

“There’s a bus stop at the top of the hill now.”

“What? You’re kidding,” she grumbles, sitting back and folding her arms over her chest.

When Vince and Bree stayed over—which was often when they were younger—the long trek up the hill after school was brutal. Sometimes my mother would be waiting for us at the bus stop to drive us the rest of the way. Other times she told us the fresh air would do us good.

In the spring, Bree would stop to pick so many flowers, the walk took twice as long. Drove Vince crazy, having to stop and wait every five minutes, but I never minded. It was one of the few things that made her smile.

I haven’t missed Bree’s endless fidgeting the entire way. Without even thinking about, I reach over and settle my hand on her leg. “Relax. They’ll be so happy to see you. My mother’s always asking about you.”

She reaches up and pulls down the visor mirror. “You didn’t tell them…about Chad…about what happened to me, did you?”

I’d give anything to take the shame and uncertainty out of her voice.

“No. You asked me not to say anything to anyone, so I didn’t.”

“Thank you.”

“You could talk to my mom. If you need…I know I’m not…”

“I don’t think so. It’s too embarrassing.”

“She wouldn’t judge you, Bree. You know she loves you and your brother.”

She’s silent for a few seconds. “I feel terrible,” she finally says. “I love your parents. I haven’t called or stopped by to see them in so long. They always treated me so well, and I’ve been a shit in return.”

Anguish colors her words. Reaching over, I capture one of her hands in mine. “Stop. It’s normal to get wrapped up in stuff when you leave home for the first time.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her shaking her head.

“Hey, you send them cards every Christmas and on their anniversary. They’re my parents and I don’t always remember their wedding date. But you do.”

“I remember because it always amazes me that two people can still be so in love after so many years,” she says so quietly, I almost miss the words. “Do you want that eventually?” she asks.

I’m not sure how to answer. Of course I do. Except when I try to picture myself with someone, she always looks like…“Doesn’t everyone?”

“No. I don’t think my brother does.”

“Sure he does. He just hasn’t met the right girl.”

“If by right girl, you mean he hasn’t met someone who can tolerate his grumpy butt for more than two weeks, then I guess you’re right.”

Laughter rolls through me as I park the truck in my parents’ driveway. “Ever since he dated the one who chalked “happy one-week anniversary” in front of his house, I try to stay out of it.”

“Wow, I never heard that story.” She chuckles. Love that I can break through the grim shadows she’s wrapped herself in, even if it’s only for a few seconds. “Ready?” I ask, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “You look beautiful, Brianna.”

Her lips part, as if the compliment surprises her.

The sudden urge to kiss her overtakes me, but I pull away.

“Come on. You know Mom hates it when we’re late.”

“I remember.”

I meet her on the other side of the truck and take her hand, surprising both of us, I think.

“Liam,” my mother calls out as we step into the foyer.

“Bree,” she sings even louder as soon as she spots Brianna hiding behind me.

I bend down to kiss my mom’s cheek and allow her a few seconds to run her hand through my unruly hair. “You need a haircut,” she tsks at me.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Out back,” she answers, shoving past me to get to Brianna. “Look at you. Beautiful girl, come here.” She pulls Bree into a tight hug, which Bree returns. At the last second I catch Bree staring at me with tears shining in her eyes.

“I’m so happy to see you, Mrs. Hollister.”

“The house smells amazing, Ma. Are you planning to feed us or make us stand here and drool,” I say, hoping to move things along and make Bree a little less uncomfortable.

That does the trick. My mother takes pride in entertaining. Even the suggestion she’s not taking care of her guests sends her into a frenzy.

“Let me help, Mrs. Hollister,” Bree says, reminding me of when she was younger. She’d always been eager to help my parents do things around the house. As if one wrong move would get her tossed out.

Sounds of chaos erupt from the backyard and my mother sighs. “Please go help your father before he sets the place on fire.”

I leave the two of them and hope my mother’s able to work some of her magic with Bree.

CHAPTER NINE

Not much has changed in the Hollister household. Mrs. Hollister still adores her only son. She still welcomes me into her home with open arms.

“Good grief, young lady. You’ve known me long enough to call me Amanda by now.”

“Thank you, Amanda.”

“Or Mom,” she suggests with a quick look at her son. Painful longing rolls through me, twisting my stomach. How many times when I was little had I wished this woman was my mother? How many times had Vince and I sought refuge under the Hollisters’ roof?

Liam disappears out the back door, and Amanda sweeps me into the kitchen where she won’t let me do anything. Instead, she directs me to a stool next to the counter where she can pepper me with questions and feed me tidbits.

“Tell me about school.”

I spill everything about the last four years of my academic life. As the words flow out of my mouth, it occurs to me that it’s a miracle I made it through my program and into graduate school. The fog I’ve been living in seems to lift.

Even though I’ve been gone for four years, in this house I feel at home.

When dinner’s ready, I help carry everything to the table.

Mr. Hollister gives me a big hug. “You must have gotten lost in the kitchen, since you didn’t come out to say hello.”

“Sorry.”

“Shush. She was helping me,” Amanda says, playfully pushing him into his chair. I’m pretty sure he reaches around and pinches her butt. Smothering a smile, I turn and find Liam watching me.

“They’re so cute.” I silently mouth the words at him, and his lips quirk. He pats the chair next to him, and I take it.

“So Liam says you just graduated,” Mr. Hollister says after all of our plates are full. “You’ll have to show us some pictures.”

He doesn’t say it unkindly. Maybe that’s why it makes me feel so awful. I duck my head, fiddling with the cloth napkin in my lap. “There aren’t any. I didn’t bother going.”

“Why the heck not, honey?”

“Dad—”

“I just didn’t see the point,” I answer, cutting Liam’s protest off. My shoulders lift. “They give you an empty folder and mail your actual diploma to you later.” Not to mention my brother was out of town and Chad said it was a waste of his time to sit through a three-hour ceremony for the whole five minutes I’d walk across the stage.

“We’ll have to do something for you to mark the occasion,” Amanda says, driving guilt down into my soul. It didn’t occur to me to ask

them or Liam to attend. I might have gone if I’d known at least one person who gave a shit about me was in the audience.

“It’s no big deal.”

“Mom, are you still working at the library this summer?” Liam says, thankfully changing the subject.

“Yes.” She happily rattles off a bunch of details about the children’s literacy program she’s taught every summer at the town’s local library since I can remember.

Somehow the conversation comes back to me, though.

“What are your plans now, Bree?” Mr. Hollister asks.

“I’m starting graduate school at the end of August.”

Next to me, Liam’s hand tightens around his fork and he lays it on the table with a thump. He knows I’m going back to school, doesn’t he? I can’t stay here forever. Although this time I promise myself I won’t let anything stop me from staying in touch with Liam and his family.