Chapter 29: Evan
EVAN
There’s something in the air. I’ve got a crew at a storm-damaged house we’re renovating for a flipper, and since lunch, the guys have been acting weird. I keep catching furtive glances and whispered conversations. People going silent when I walk into a room, yet feeling their eyes, everywhere, watching me. It’s creepy is what it is. The scene before the pod people turn in unison and descend to assimilate their hapless target. Swear to God, if anything tries to probe me or vomit down my throat, I’m swinging a sledgehammer and aiming for nut sacks.
In the second-floor master bath, I catch my shift chief, Alex, hunched over a phone with the guy who’s supposed to be installing the new tub.
“Grady, I’m pretty sure you billed us for something like thirty hours of overtime on that Poppy Hill job,” I say loudly, and the tub guy startles and drops his phone into his pocket. “How do you figure Levi’s gonna react when I tell him you’re up here standing around on your phone with your dick in your hand?”
“I got you, boss. No problems. Gonna have all this …” Grady gestures at the tub, sink, and toilet left to install. “Gonna get it wrapped by today.
Don’t worry.”
Amazing how agreeable people become when your name is on their paychecks.
To my shift chief, a young guy I vouched for to get this job, I give a nod to follow me down the hall. Alex and I step into one of the empty bedrooms, where I narrow my eyes. “What the hell is going on with everyone today?”
He hesitates to answer, taking off his baseball cap to scratch his head and then adjust and readjust it, hoping perhaps I might forget my question in the meantime. It sets my teeth on edge.
“What is it, for chrissake?” I demand.
“Yeah, um, so …” Oh, for the love of God. “Well, word is Genevieve got arrested. For like cocaine or something.”
“What?” A cold tide rushes through my limbs. “When?”
“Last night. I mean, the rumor is she was caught moving a kilo of coke to an undercover agent on the boardwalk, but that’s just talk. The way I heard it from my cousin who was working barback last night, some cop came in and found drugs in her purse, only she was telling him it wasn’t her purse. Anyway, that girl Trina was looking for her a little while after that.”
Damn it.
“We weren’t sure you heard,” Alex continues. “So the guys—”
“Yeah, fine.” I wave him off. “Just get back to work. And tell them to put their damn phones away. Nobody’s getting overtime for screwing around.”
Trina.
Of course.
I should have seen this coming. I know as well as anyone the shit that girl gets up to. Anger burns my throat, most of it self-directed. What part of driving Gen toward her did I think would end any other way? Especially with Deputy Randall skulking around trying to pin something on Gen. If I’d given even a single thought to Genevieve’s best interest instead of my own, I would’
ve seen this coming.
Fuck.
No wonder she ran away from me. This turn of events was so predictable, Gen tried everything short of beating me back with a baseball bat to keep me away from her. And as it turns out, with all my efforts to prove she was overreacting and that nothing bad would come of us being together, I proved her right the first chance I got. I was so wrapped up in pleading my case, changing her mind, that I didn’t give a single thought to the repercussions if it went badly.
What kind of asshole is so damn selfish?
This isn’t a minor consequence either. Gen was cuffed. Probably perp walked out of the bar in front of half the town and a hundred tourists. Paraded through the police station and degraded by the same jerks who’ve been telling her she was no good her whole life. She must have been tearing out of her skin.
And I put her there.
I spent all this time trying to convince her that I’d be good for her and make her life better. What a goddamn joke.
It’s hours before I can leave the jobsite to see Gen. Throughout the day I agonized over whether to call her, but eventually decided having this conversation over the phone was more insulting than waiting to do it in person. Or maybe I’m a coward who hoped the delay would help me figure out what to say to her.
As I’m pulling up to her house, I’m still at a loss.
Gen’s little brother Craig answers the door. With a knowing look that says
good luck
, he nods upstairs.
“She’s in her room.”
I knock a couple times, then let myself in when there’s no answer. Gen’s asleep on her bed in pajamas and a bathrobe, hair still wet. The largest part of me wants to leave. Let her sleep. The longer I can put this off, the more time I have to come up with something sufficient to say. But then she opens her eyes to find me standing
in the doorway.
“Sorry,” she says drowsily, gathering herself to sit up against her headboard. “I didn’t get much sleep in the clink.”
“I can go. Come back later.”
“No. Stay.” She draws her knees up to make room for me. “I take it the whole town knows by now?”
She doesn’t look so bad, all things considered. A bit groggy and pale from exhaustion, but otherwise unscathed. It doesn’t help the lump of guilt stuck in my throat, though.
“You okay? He try anything with you?” Because throwing a Molotov cocktail through Randall’s bedroom window might go a long way to improving my mood.
She shakes her head. “It was fine. Not much worse than the DMV, honestly.”
“That’s what you’ve got? A night in the slammer and you’re doing ’90s sitcom humor?”
A weak smile curves her lips. It breaks my fucking heart. “I’m thinking about touring the prison circuit with some new material.”
“Have you heard from Trina?”
“Nope.” Gen shrugs. “I wish her well. If she’s smart, she’s well into Mexico by now.”
When I open my mouth to speak again, she cuts me off.
“Can we not talk about it? Later, fine. Right now, I don’t want to think about it anymore. It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, of course.”
Taking my hand, she pulls me to sit beside her against the headboard. “Hey, I never said this, but the house looks great. You guys did a stellar job on the renovations. I’m almost sad it’s over.”
“I am gonna miss you wandering around the house in skimpy silk nighties, watching me work up a sweat.”
Gen snorts. “You have an active imagination.”
“Oh, were you not there for that? Must have been some other leggy
brunette with nice tits.”
Her elbow jabs my ribs. “I meant now that it’s over, Dad’s going to put the house on the market. This won’t be my room for much longer. And the place is so nice now, it’s a shame to leave.”
“A lot of good memories in this room.” Climbing in her window after everyone’s gone to bed. Sneaking her out of it.
“Kellan and Shane tried smoking some old pot they found hidden under the floorboards in Shane’s closet.” This time when she laughs, it reaches her eyes. The sound is comforting and debilitating all at once. “They were throwing up for hours. Shane swore he was going blind.”
I want to laugh with her and reminisce about all the stuff we got away with in this house. Every time we held our breath under the covers having sex while her entire family slept a few feet away. Constantly in fear for my life that one of her brothers would barge in and break my dick off if he found me on top of her.
But all I can think about is that if circumstances were different, she might’ve been facing serious jail time because of me.
Only now does it occur to me that some of those memories—running from cops or whoever we pissed off that night, stumbling in drunk at fifteen, getting high and blowing off class—aren’t as cute as they seemed in high school.
“Dad wants me to look at houses with him. With Mom gone, he’s feeling a little overwhelmed with the decisions.”
The words barely reach my ears. A thought spiral drops like a heavy blanket on top of me, my mind weighted with all the ways I haven’t conceived of yet that I’ll ruin this girl. She was happy when she came back. Maybe not right away, thanks to the funeral and everything. But when I compare the person who showed up at that first bonfire to the person sitting next to me now? She looks burnt out. Dried up. A couple months around me and I’ve already sucked the life out of her.
And no matter what I do to think my way out
of this, I come back to one undeniable conclusion: I did this to her. And if given the chance, I’ll do it again.
“Actually, a couple days ago I drove by a house on Mallard. That blue one with the palms. It’s a newer home. I looked it up on—”
“Gen.” I launch to my feet. “Look, you were right.”
“Huh?”
Agitated now, I pace the room. How do I do this? I don’t want to come off as an asshole, but maybe it’s well too late for that.
“Evan?” Her voice ripples with worry.
“I should have listened to you.”
Fuck, why didn’t I listen? She gave me a dozen opportunities to respect her wishes and keep my distance. I ignored every one of her warnings and went straight off a cliff. Slowly, I turn to face her, all the guilt and regret bubbling up and spilling over. What did she ever do to deserve me?
“I’m sorry, Fred.”
Alarm grows in her expression. “About what?”
“You were right. This can’t work. You and me.”
“Evan.” A wary look of disbelief sucks the color from her face. “This is because of last night? You didn’t put the coke in Trina’s purse. You didn’t sic Randall on me. None of that is your fault.”
“But I talked you into going. That’s on me.” My voice rises of its own volition. It feels like I don’t have control of my own mind. The frustration running away with me. The anger at myself that I let this happen. “I’m no good for you. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.” I swallow. It hurts to do so. “You need to stay the hell away from me.”
“You don’t mean that.” Gen jumps off the bed. “I get that you feel responsible, but it was not your fault.”
“Don’t do that.” I pull myself away when she reaches for my arm. “You’ve been making excuses
for me my whole life.”
She rolls her head in frustration, huffing out a breath. “That’s not what I’m doing. I was only nervous about going out with Trina because I didn’t think I could resist getting trashed around her. You had more faith in me, and you were right. I didn’t drink at all last night. She offered me some of her coke, and I didn’t take it. The rest of the night was my choice. I stuck around. I let her leave her purse with me. At any point I could have said no and gone home.” Fight flashes across her face. “You’ve been taking bullets for me
my
whole life. But I’m all grown up now, Evan. I don’t need a martyr.”
I appreciate what she’s trying to do, but I can’t let her. This is how habits start. She forgives me this time, and the next. And the next. Until inch by inch, she backslides into all the self-destructive patterns she’s worked so hard to break. She always was the best part of us.
I love her. I’d rather never see her again than be the reason she hates herself.
“You should stick it out with your cop,” I tell her, my voice cracking slightly before hardening with resolve. “He’s a decent guy, and he’ll bend over backward to make you happy. Better influence than I’ll ever be.”
“Evan.”
I watch the realization cement in her eyes. Watch as she grasps for some lever to pull to make this stop. Then I turn my back on her.
“Evan!”
I’m out the door and down the stairs. Practically running to my bike. I have to get out of here before I lose my nerve. I know she’s looking at me from her bedroom window when I speed away from the curb. The ache begins before I’ve reached the end of the block. By the time I get home, I can’t feel anything. Not sure
I’m even awake.
It’s dark when I take a seat on the back deck later. Clouds block the stars and make the sky feel small and too close. The cricket songs and katydids roar inside my skull. This is shell shock. I’m not fully present in the aftermath.
A cold beer lands in my lap. Beside me, Cooper pulls up a chair.
“You check on Genevieve?” he asks.
I twist open my beer and take a swig. I don’t taste a thing. “Think I broke up with her,” I mumble.
He stares at the side of my face. “You okay?”
“Sure.”
Turns out I could’ve saved everyone all sorts of grief if I’d listened to both of them. Coop doesn’t know his head from his asshole where Gen is concerned, but as much as I hate his second-guessing, he does know me.
“I’m sorry,” he tells me.
“She’s not a bad girl.” People have always given her a hard time for the crime of trying to enjoy her life. Maybe it’s because her lust for it sparked envy, longing. Most people are too afraid to truly experience their lives. They’re passengers or passive observers to a world happening around them. But not Gen.
“I know,” Coop says.
When she left a year ago, it never really ended. Nothing was said. She was gone, but we remained frozen in place. Even after it’d been months and everyone told me to take the hint, I couldn’t let go of where we’d left off. It was only ever a matter of time before she came home and we picked up again. Except it didn’t happen that way. She changed. And though I hadn’t noticed, so did I. We tried to shove ourselves back together, fill in the same blank spaces, but we don’t fit the same way we used to.
“You love her?”
My throat closes up to the point of suffocation. “More than
anything in the world.”
She’s the one. The only one. But it’s not enough.
Cooper lets out a breath. “I am sorry. Whatever my beef is with Gen, you’re my brother. I don’t like seeing you hurting.”
He and I have been through a lot with each other this past year. Finding one reason or another to be at odds. It’s exhausting, honestly. And lonely. Nights like this remind me that whatever else happens, it’s just the two of us.
“We’ve got to do a better job of being brothers,” I say quietly. “I know this thing with Mom gets you mad, but do we have to come to blows about it every time her name comes up? Man, I don’t want to keep this stuff from you. I don’t like lying about where I am or sneaking away to take phone calls so you can’t hear me. I feel like I’m tiptoeing around my own house.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Coop takes another swig of his beer, then turns the bottle between his palms while the breeze kicks up and blows in salt air from the beach. “I’ve spent so long being mad at her, I guess I wanted you to be upset at her with me. Kinda lonely out in the cold.”
“I’m not trying to leave you out in the cold. I knew you weren’t ready to let her back in. That’s cool. I told her not to expect anything. Hell, I warned her you’d tell the FBI she had Jimmy Hoffa buried in her backyard if she came around here.”
He coughs out a stiff laugh. “Not a bad idea. You know, if needed.”
“Anyway, I didn’t ask you to see her because I know how bad she messed you up last time. I’d wanted you to give her a chance and she’d betrayed you. Both of us. Yeah, I was worried she’d make me a sucker again. Still am. I’m not sure that feeling goes away when it comes to Shelley. This is just something I need to do. For me.”
“I was thinking.” His attention is drawn to his lap, where he picks at the melting label from the sweaty bottle. “Maybe I’d be willing to consider meeting
up with her.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh, what the hell.” Cooper downs the last of his beer. “As long as you and Mac are there. What’s the worst that can happen?”
I wouldn’t have put money on such a dramatic change of heart. I doubt it was anything I said; more likely Mac worked on him. But it’s all the same to me either way. We don’t have much of a family left. It got even smaller today. I’m just here trying to cobble together as much as I can out of the bits and pieces. If we can stop fighting about this one thing, it’ll go a long way.
“I’ll set it up.”
“Telling you now, though,” he warns. “If she comes looking for a kidney, I’m giving her one of yours.”