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Authors: Megan Nugen Isbell

Finding Home (6 page)

BOOK: Finding Home
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“You know that’s not true, Mandy,” he said quickly.

“I’m just the airhead everyone likes to make fun of.”

“No, Mandy…” he said, but I interrupted him.

“Maybe this little prank you and Jesse pulled wouldn’t have bothered me so much if not for the fact how things have been between us since you got back,” I said and he just looked at me, cocking his head in confusion. “When I thought you were going to die, Brandon,” I said, wiping at the tears that came as I thought back on those times. “I couldn’t stand it.  I couldn’t stand of thinking of a world without you in it.  But, you didn’t die.  You survived and you came home and we’ve been hanging out.  You’ve been showing me a side of you I didn’t know before and I’ve loved spending this time with you.  But, obviously, it hasn’t meant shit to you if you could do that to me.” I was speaking quickly and I watched as he just stood there, his mouth open a little as if he was trying to think of something to say. “And it may have been funny at first, but when you knew I was scared…like totally freaking out…you guys just kept up.  You don’t do that to someone you care about.  You’re supposed to protect people you care about, not scare the living shit out of them.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said, reaching out and resting his hand on my arm. “It was a dumb, stupid thing for us to do.  Seriously, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…me too,” I said, pulling my arm away from him.

Riley was walking towards us and she looked sad.  I wondered what she was thinking about.  I doubted she’d tell me though.  She just got on the quad, starting it a second later and then calling out to me.

“C’mon, Mandy.  Let’s get outta here.”

I just glared at Brandon once more before climbing on the quad behind her.

“Later, jerks,” I called out to Brandon and to Jesse, who was walking towards us, as Riley gunned the engine and we left them in our dust.

 

~~~

 

The night ended not long after we got back from riding the four wheelers.  I could tell the whole evening was too much for Riley and she left shortly after.  I realized then no matter how much I wished for it, all of our lives were very different and they’d never be the same. 

Once Riley was gone, I could feel Jesse pulling back.  He seemed even more distant and I wondered what he was thinking about.  I didn’t press him though.  Instead, we helped him clean up and then decided to call it a night. We had to give Holly a ride since Riley had bowed out early.  Holly and Brandon chatted as I drove, mostly about what Holly had been up to since she’d last seen Brandon.  She asked a few questions about him, but he kept diverting it back to her.  He didn’t seem to want to talk about himself. 

We dropped Holly off at Riley’s house where she’d left her car and then it was just Brandon and I and it was awkward.  It hadn’t been on the way to Jesse’s, but that was before the incident at that little house of horrors.  I’d tried blowing it off, but I wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Brandon asked after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

“I’m fine, Brandon,” I said coldly, keeping my eyes on the road as I weaved down the tight streets of Carver towards his house.

“You still seem pissed off.  I said I was sorry and you even admitted it was kinda funny.” I could hear him chuckle, which just annoyed me more.

“Let’s just drop it, okay?” I said as I neared his house.  It grew quiet again and it stayed that way until I pulled into his driveway. 

“Thanks for the ride,” he said, but he didn’t make any motion of getting out.

“No problem,” I said, keeping my eyes straight ahead for a few seconds.  He didn’t move.  He just continued to sit there and the weight of his stare finally drew my eyes back to him. 

“See you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice raising a little as the question left his mouth.

“Probably not.  I’m gonna be busy baking all day for the church bake sale.”

He didn’t say anything and I could tell he hadn’t expected me to basically brush him off.  He sat there a few more seconds before he opened the door and got out, hovering there for a moment, looking into the car.  I glanced over at his profile in the dark, only lit up by the dashboard lights.  I could see the remorse in his eyes and he looked as if he was deciding whether or not he was going to say something, but the corners of his mouth just turned down into a little frown. 

“Bye, Mandy,” he finally said and the door shut.  I watched as he walked up the driveway and once he was at the front door, he turned and waved.  I didn’t wave back.  I just drove away.

When I got home, I could see a glow coming from the front window.  It was only nine-thirty, so I wasn’t surprised my parents would still be awake.  They were watching TV when I walked in.  It was something on The Hallmark Channel.  I could tell by the cheesy and way too cheerful background music. 

“Hey,” I said, hanging up my keys and walking into the living room.

“You’re home early,” my mom pointed out, looking up from the cross-stitch she was working on.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I sighed.

“Is everything okay?” my dad asked.

“Uh-huh,” I answered, not wanting to get into details with my parents.  I’d never had the type of relationship where I shared a lot with them.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but they’d never really welcomed it.  My parents were strict with well-defined roles of parents and children.  We did what they said and we didn’t complain.  They were my parents, not my friends.  They’d made that perfectly clear growing up. “I think I’ll head upstairs though.  I want to get started early tomorrow before it gets too hot.”

“Thank you for helping out with the bake sale,” my mom said, smiling up at me.

“Sure,” I said, smiling back and then turned and made my way to my room. 

I changed into my pajamas and then washed my face and started brushing my teeth.  Shay appeared then, leaning against the doorjamb as I spit into the sink.

“I didn’t expect you home so soon,” she said.

“Me neither,” I said, rinsing my mouth.

“Did you at least have fun?” she asked as I brushed by her and she followed me into my bedroom.

“Not really,” I said as I sat down on my bed. “It sucks getting older, Shay.  Don’t do it.”

She just laughed and sat down beside me.

“Why’re you so down?  Your positivity is usually nauseating.”

“I just had high hopes for tonight.  They didn’t pan out.  You can’t go back to the way things used to be, no matter how badly you want to.”

The beeping of my phone interrupted us and Shay jumped up to get it for me.  She reached into my purse and then her face curled up in a mixture of confusion and disgust when she looked down at it.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Why is that dickhead texting you?”

“What?” I exclaimed, walking over to her and grabbing it from her.  Sure enough there was a new text message from Derek Collins waiting for me.

“I thought you two were done.”

“We are.  We’re so done.  I haven’t talked to him in over a month when I broke up with the jerk.”

“What’s he have to say?” Shay prodded anxiously and I tapped on the message.

 

DEREK:
SAW YOU AT GENTRY’S. FORGOT HOW WELL THAT SWEET ASS OF YOURS KEPT MY BED WARM.  GET IT OVER HERE.

 

“Well?” Shay griped and when I didn’t say anything, she grabbed my phone from me. “Booty call!” she shrieked and started laughing.  I just rolled my eyes, obviously not as amused as my little sister.  I grabbed the phone back and turned it off. “You’re not going to text him back?”

“No way!  He’s gotta be drunk if he’s texting me and he’s a jerk.  That’s why I broke up with him.  He didn’t care about me.  All he cared about was my sweet ass,” I said and Shay started laughing again. 

“Did you guys do it a lot?” Shay was giggling now and I just glared at her.

“Grow up, Shay.”

“You know Mom and Dad would freak if they knew their daughter was a deflowered harlot.”

“I’m well aware of how they’d react.  They’d shun me for life,” I said and we both laughed.

“I still can’t believe you’re not a virgin anymore.”

I sat back down on the bed, looking up at my sister.

“You shouldn’t be all that shocked.  I’m twenty-one.  That’s ancient in today’s society.”

“Yeah, but it’s you.  You always do the right thing.  You never do anything that goes against what Mom and Dad say.”

“Well…I finally did and I wish I could take it back.  Promise me your first time won’t be with a total jerk, okay?”

“Promise,” she said, looking down at me with pity.

“Good night, Shay.”

“Night,” she said and then she was gone a moment later, leaving me alone in my room.  I crawled under the covers and then reached for my Kindle on the nightstand.  I turned it on and opened the book I was in the middle of, but I didn’t start reading.  My eyes just stared at the words on the screen, but I didn’t read.  My mind was on the text from Derek.  Not for one second did I regret breaking up with him.  What I regretted was that I’d started dating him at all.  I was beginning to think Carver bred nothing but jerks.  I wondered if there was a secret class boys had to go to that I wasn’t aware of that taught them how to treat girls like crap.  I’d seen my share of it: Alex, Derek, even Brandon at times.  But then I thought about Jesse and I thought perhaps there were still some good guys out there.  Then I remembered that although Jesse treated Riley like a princess, he had left her with no warning, so even he had a hint of asshole in his blood. 

I turned on my side, put the Kindle back on the night stand and turned off the light.  I wouldn’t be able to focus on the book, so there was no need to even try.  I closed my eyes and thought  about the most pressing decision in my life…what I would start with in the morning: banana bread or peanut butter cookies?  My life was so pathetic. 

Five

 

I was glad I started early because by eleven o’clock, the kitchen was a sweltering mess.  The double oven had been going all morning and it had to be at least ten degrees warmer in the kitchen than anywhere else in the house.  Shay was gone at a violin lesson and my parents were both at work.  It was nice to have the house to myself and I was blaring Carrie Underwood from my iPod as I mixed my latest creation in a bowl: double chocolate chip cookies.  Traces of flour were all over the place, including the apron I was wearing.  It used to be my grandma’s.  The faded plaid material trimmed in white ruffles made me look about seventy-five, but I always wore it when I baked ever since my grandma passed away five years ago.  She was the one who’d taught me to love baking and she’d worn the same apron each time we made something.  I decided to carry on the tradition. 

I finished mixing the batter and began scooping it onto the cookie sheet when a loud rap on the front door caused my head to jerk up and stare into the living room.  I set the bowl down and wiped my hands on the apron before heading towards the door, which was closed in a feeble attempt to help with the efficiency of the air conditioner.

When I opened the door, I was both surprised and not surprised to see Brandon standing there, hands in his pockets, looking up at me through the screen door.  His blue eyes looked apologetic and nervous at the same time. 

I’d stopped feeling sorry for myself after a good night’s sleep.  I hadn’t thought of Derek or what Brandon and Jesse had done to me since I’d started baking.  Baking had a way of making everything alright.  It was like therapy to me.  Delicious therapy, which did nothing to help my butt and thighs.

“Brandon…hi,” I said.

“Hey.  Can I come in?” he asked and I nodded, pushing the door open and he stepped inside. 

“What brings you by?”

“I thought you could use some help.  You said you were making stuff for the bake sale.”

“You wanna help me bake?” I raised a doubtful eyebrow at him.

“If you’ll let me.”

I didn’t say anything.  I just walked into the kitchen as Brandon followed.

“Holy shit, it’s hot in here!” he exclaimed.

“If it’s too hot for you to handle, you’re welcome to go home.”

“I can handle it,” he said with a smirk and then I saw him staring at me.  His eyes were chest level and I couldn’t tell if he was looking at my boobs or the apron. “That’s a killer apron.  Got one for me?”

“No, I don’t,” I said, continuing to scoop the cookies onto the baking sheet.

“Where’d you get that thing anyway?  You look like an old lady,” he chuckled and I just glared at him.

“It was my grandma’s.  She’s dead,” I said flatly and I saw his smile turn into a straight line.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m just batting a thousand with you lately.”

I just ignored him and finished prepping the cookies for baking before pulling out the previous batch of sugar cookies from the oven and putting the sheet of double chocolate chip in. 

“Can you make yourself useful and put those on the cooling rack?” I asked, gesturing to the sugar cookies.

“Sure,” he said, taking the spatula and getting to work. “These look really good. Can I have one?”

“No,” I answered quickly and I saw him roll his eyes a little.  I didn’t react.  I just started washing out the mixing bowl I’d just finished using. 

“Mandy,” Brandon said after a few minutes of silence. “I feel really badly about what Jesse and I did to you yesterday.”

I didn’t say anything at first.  I just finished drying the bowl I’d just washed and turned to face him.  He’d finished putting the cookies on the rack for me and was now leaning against the counter, looking at me with frustration.  His light brown hair was growing out and he didn’t look as much like a soldier as he had when he’d first returned to Carver.  The waves at the end of his hair were touching the tops of his ears and he had a light shadow on his face, obviously having not shaved in the morning.  He was wearing a blue t-shirt that seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes even more and his lose jeans completely hid the fact he’d lost a leg in Afghanistan.  I wondered if he should sit down.  He’d been standing the whole time and I was afraid he was in pain.

“I told you just to drop it.  It’s over with,” I said, walking back over to the counter so we were only a couple of feet apart.

“I can tell you’re still bothered by it though.  It was just a joke and I’m sorry.”

“I know it was supposed to be a joke, Brandon, but…it wasn’t funny to me,” I said, and I didn’t realize how quiet I was being until the words left my mouth.  I looked down at the counter and started tracing designs in the flour for a second before looking back up at him.

“I know and I’m sorry.”

“It’s just…” I stammered, thinking about what I wanted to say to him. “All I want is for everyone to be happy.  I feel like I’m always trying to make that happen.”

“And you do a very good job at that,” he interrupted.

“But…I feel like…I feel like none of you respect me,” I said softly.

“Of course we respect you.”

“It doesn’t feel like it to me.  You guys are always pointing out how ditzy I am and rolling your eyes at me if I don’t get the joke right away.  I get it.  I’m an airhead, but I don’t think that should make me a target.”

“You’re not a target, Mandy.”

“I’m not?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. “So, you’re telling me you would’ve done that to Riley or Laura or Holly?”

He didn’t say anything and as his eyes lowered to the counter, I knew he saw my point.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, looking up at me again. 

“I know I probably overreacted, but it hurts, okay?”

He stood there for a moment, but then I saw him moving along the counter, closing the space between us until he was right next to me and we were standing side by side. 

“I get it, Mandy, and all I can say is I’m sorry.  I don’t want you to be mad at me though.  I
can’t
have you mad at me.”  I glanced over to him and saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard and then he stared into my eyes, looking almost desperate. “Since I’ve been home,” he began and I could hear the nerves in his voice, but he never stopped looking at me. “You’re the only person I feel comfortable around and you can’t be mad me.  You can’t.”

There was a weakness in his eyes I’d never seen before.  Growing up, I’d often wondered if Brandon had an ounce of emotion in his body.  He could never take anything seriously and he was constantly making fun of people, myself included.  I didn’t think anything ever bothered him.  But now, I could see that wasn’t true.  Maybe it used to be, but it wasn’t true anymore.  He looked scared and lonely and I hated seeing him like that, knowing his fear had been festering since last night.  I took my hand and moved it slowly towards his, hesitating for a moment until I rested mine on top of his.  I watched as his eyes closed and he looked like he was in pain.

“I’m not mad at you,” I said gently and I hoped he could hear the sincerity in my voice.  I wasn’t mad.  I’m not sure I’d ever been mad.  I’d been frustrated, but thinking about it, I don’t think I was mad and I wanted him to know I’d forgiven him. “I overreacted and I’m sorry I upset you.”  I squeezed his hand and he opened his eyes, a little smile on his face. “And um…it means a lot to me…that…that you’re comfortable with me,” I stuttered. “I’m here for anything you need, you know that, right?  You’re not alone, Brandon.” He just nodded and when I looked into his eyes again, I thought they looked a little moist, like he was trying to hold back tears.  I didn’t get a good look though because he suddenly had his arms around me.  I was almost lost in his tall frame as he held me tightly and then I felt his chest shake a little, like he was crying.  Brandon, the eternal joker, was falling apart in my arms and I didn’t know what to do.  I knew I had to get it right though.  I couldn’t blow this because he needed someone to help him and if he’d chosen me to be his person, I couldn’t risk him pushing me away. 

“Look at me,” he mumbled a few moments later, pulling away from me and sitting down on a stool as if he were giving up.  He wiped his face with the back of his hand, turning away so I couldn’t see him crying. “Goddamn pussy is what I am.” He sounded angry with himself and I put my hand carefully on his arm, turning him to me cautiously.  He was rigid at first, but I continued to pull at him and eventually he faced me, his cheeks wet and his eyes red.  He turned his head from me, but I put my finger under his chin, encouraging him to look at me. 

“Don’t you say that.  Don’t you dare say that,” I said insistently. “You’re the bravest person I know, Brandon Seaver.  You almost died.  You almost lost your life for me and everyone else in this country.  You didn’t hesitate to serve and I’m so proud of you.” I could feel the tears in my eyes now and when I blinked, they fell silently down my face. “I never want to hear you say anything like that about yourself again.  Do you understand?” He continued to look into my eyes and he nodded slowly. “I love you, Brandon.  We all love you.”  I reached down to the counter and picked up a napkin, gently dabbing at the tears on his cheeks.  I was short and Brandon was tall, but when he sat on the stool, we were eye to eye and I never looked away from his eyes, which didn’t look as scared as they had a few minutes before.  I set the napkin down and I found my fingers brushing over the stubble on his cheek as I smiled at him, hoping he would see everything was going to be okay.  He closed his eyes again and I found myself focusing on his lips.  My heart started thundering in my chest as I felt myself drawing closer to him and a second later, my lips were brushing over his.  They were soft and thick and I’d never imagined his lips being so warm or feeling so good.  I felt his lips moving over mine in return briefly, but it only lasted a second though because his eyes suddenly popped open and he pulled back from me, the surprised look on his face causing me to flush from embarrassment.

“Omigosh,” I gasped quietly, covering my mouth with my hand and quickly turning from him, never having been more mortified in my entire life. “I’m so sorry, Brandon.  I don’t know why I did that.”

I waited for him to say something as my back was turned to him, but it was quiet for too long.  I couldn’t face him.  I’d just kissed Brandon and I didn’t even know why I’d done it.  I’d blown it.  He told me he needed me and I’d screwed it up in typical Mandy fashion. 

It seemed like forever that I had my back to him and nothing was spoken between us, but then I felt him there, his tall frame hovering behind me.  He smelled good.  Too good.  I shouldn’t be noticing that about him, but I was and I felt him step closer.  His hand was on my hip a second later, sliding into place as if it belonged there.  His hands were big and heavy on my waist and then I felt him turning me to face him.  I moved slowly, keeping my eyes on the ground.  I couldn’t look at him.  I didn’t want to see the disgust on his face.  I’d known Brandon practically my whole life and in all that time he’d never given me any romantic inklings and yet I’d kissed him.

I stared at his shoes.  They were a gray pair of Vans and I noticed one of the shoelaces looked lose.  It’d probably untie itself if he took a few more steps.  I don’t know why I focused on that, but it kept me from having to face Brandon. 

“Mandy.” His voice was soft and gentle, so unlike what I was used to with him and for that reason, I slowly looked up, terrified of what I would see on his face. 

Our eyes finally met.  His expression was tender and he had a little smile on the corners of his mouth.  I felt myself relaxing, but it didn’t stop the embarrassment that was coursing through my body.

“I’m so sorry, Brandon.  I have no idea what came over me or why I did that.  That was so stupid.” I was babbling and his smile grew wider.  He brushed his fingertips over my cheek and his touch was warm, causing a stirring in my stomach. 

“It’s okay,” he said, his fingers trailing down my cheek until his touch was gone.

“I don’t know why that happened,” I continued and I heard him laugh quietly, looking down at the ground for a moment before meeting my gaze again.

“Mandy…relax,” he said, taking both of my hands in his.

“The way you pulled back…so quickly…” I began, but then he interrupted. 

“I was surprised.  I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, and then paused for a second before going on. “And I wasn’t expecting it to feel like that.”  He let go of my hand and brushed a curl off of my forehead as his eyes wandered around my face.

“Like what?” I asked, my voice low and nervous.

“I don’t really know,” he said, a quizzical look on his face. “Just…right.”

His eyes stopped wandering and they settled on mine.  My heart was pounding and my stomach was such a mess of nerves I thought I might throw up, but then he smiled at me so sweetly that I felt it all melting away and I felt the corners of my mouth slowly curling up too.  He inched forward until hardly any space was separating us.  He leaned towards me and I felt myself reaching for him as well.  I closed my eyes and our lips met again.  Shy and timid at first, pressing ever so slightly against each other.  My mind was racing as I thought about his lips on mine and what he’d said about the way it felt.  I hadn’t understood what he’d meant, but I did now as his hands pushed gently behind my neck, his fingers threading into my hair.  He pressed his lips harder against mine this time and I welcomed it.  My hands remained paralyzed at my sides as he continued to kiss me, deeper and with more control as if he were concentrating on every move he made.  It was obvious he knew what he was doing because I think I felt his kiss in every nerve in my body. 

BOOK: Finding Home
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