24

Tara sat in a recliner, staring out a window.

Voices echoed inside Julep’s home—Hadley’s girls playing, the Glynn Girls talking as they prepared supper, and her friends discussing the best way to load the luggage on top of the SUV.

Had all conversations before now been ninety-five percent twaddle and she just hadn’t realized it?

The house had too much of it. She’d returned here from the gazebo yesterday morning and slept here last night. But the solitude of the bike ride and sleeping in the gazebo night before last had been more soothing to her soul than being in a busy home. Hadley wanted to head out around the kids’ bedtime so they would sleep the whole way home.

Her thoughts returned to Sean and Darryl. She longed to be with them, to hug them and laugh with them and scold them and help prepare for the next phase of their lives. There was always a new, next chapter, and they’d worked together to be ready for it. How had it all ended without warning? What was she supposed to do with her days? The bustle of her own family was gone, just completely over.

“Tara?” Hadley put her hand on Tara’s knee.

Tara blinked, trying to hear her.

“It’s time to eat.”

Tara peered beyond Hadley to see her friend’s two young daughters—May and Isla—staring at her. How many times had Hadley called to Tara? Beyond them was Julep’s dining room with the Glynn Girls and Tara’s friends and their families.

“Yeah, sure.” She followed Hadley into the dining room and sat.

The mealtime prayer and following conversations around the table barely registered. If the truth of her brothers being dead had set her free, she’d been freed inside a dark, windowless room. Why hadn’t God taken her too?

Luella touched Tara’s leg, and Tara tried to see beyond the darkness of the windowless room. Luella nodded at Hadley.

Tara turned, realizing Hadley was asking her something.

“It was May’s idea for us to bring your laptop. When we bought you a new cell phone, we used the last phone backup you’d made to your laptop to set up your new phone.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at seven-year-old May. But what did Tara need a cell phone for? To be more painfully aware that Sean and Darryl weren’t calling or texting? And to be constantly reminded they would never call or text again? “That was very smart of you, May.”

May grinned. “Mom says that your phone now has all the texts you’ve ever sent or received on it.”

Tara nodded. “I am grateful not to have lost those.”

“Auntie T,”—May shoved a bite of steak into her mouth—“what’s wrong with your voice?”

Hadley smiled at May. “Let’s talk about it later. Okay, sweetie?”

“There’s something different?” Tara asked.

“It’s just temporary.” Elliott wiped her mouth with a napkin. “It’s not well researched, but people who are in the throes of grief often have a different speaking voice than before the incident.”

May angled her head. “That’s it! All the joy is missing from your voice.” May’s little face contorted. “You used to laugh all the time.”

“I guess so.” Tara forced a smile. “But that’s okay, May. It’s human to go through really sad times, and it’s okay to sound and look different from that point onward.” She winked. “It would be far sadder if I was the same person after Sean and Darryl died as I was before, right?”

May propped her elbows on the table. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Elliott cleared her throat. “When you feel like getting on Facebook, you should look at your home page. There’s been an outpouring of love and condolences.”

“I will. I don’t know when, but I will.”

“You sure you want to keep waiting?” Hadley asked. “It seems like that could be cathartic.”

“If I thought that, I would hop on Facebook and read every comment. If I wanted to go home to grieve, I would’ve said so. Apparently my way of grieving doesn’t meet with your approval.”

“I didn’t mean…” Hadley drew a slow breath. “It was a suggestion, T.”

“Yeah, and is going back to North Carolina a suggestion too?”

Hadley pursed her lips. “Lynn from the grocery store set up a GoFundMe page for you, and it’s also filled with an outpouring of love in messages and donations. Someone anonymously donated five thousand dollars, and we guessed it was your boss from the outfitter store.”

Tara hadn’t thought of her two jobs one time in the last…“How long have I been here?”

“Sixteen days.” Elliott put her hand in Tara’s.

“Odd.” It felt as though it’d been a lifetime in some ways, as though nothing had ever existed outside of her need to find her brothers. Her arms ached with a hunger to hug Sean and Darryl.

“Lynn said they would hold your position at the store for as long as you need, and George Webb from the outfitter store said the same thing.”

“You had two jobs?” Sue Beth asked.

Tara nodded. “One paid the bills, and the other offered great discounts and funded our love of outdoor adventure. Plus the outfitter store allowed Sean and Darryl to work in their bike-repair shop starting at a young age.”

She liked her coworkers at both places. They had become friends, and Lynn and Webb, which is what most people called him, almost seemed like relatives. Lynn was the age of the Glynn Girls, so she was a bit like a mom, and Webb was old enough to be her dad but was extremely fit. They occasionally came to dinner with their spouses. Sean and Darryl had worked for Webb in the summers and on weekends.

Her brothers.

She missed their smiles and laughter so much she could hardly breathe, and thoughts of the day she agreed to raise them returned to her again. “My rock!” She looked at Luella. “Did you get my suitcase?”

“Oh.” Luella fidgeted with the condensation on her glass. “I went by the hotel, and since you hadn’t returned to the hotel, the manager thought you couldn’t find another hotel and must’ve gone home. He shipped it to the address registered with the hotel.”

Tara longed to hold the rock, but that desire made no sense.

“Well, that’s not so bad.” Elliott squeezed Tara’s fingers. “I’ll take you to the cabin to grab your suitcase tomorrow evening.”

“Okay.” She stood. “Thanks.” Did she look as disoriented as she felt? “I need to go for a walk.”

“Sure, sweetie.” Hadley held up a bottle of pills. “Take your medicine first, and take your phone with you. We’re leaving in about two hours.”

Tara downed the pill with a few swallows of water. She thought it odd that they would travel at night, because the kids might be wide-awake once they got home in the middle of the night. But that wasn’t Tara’s responsibility. Actually, she didn’t have any responsibilities anymore. Even work had served only one purpose—to take care of Sean and Darryl.

She went out the door, down the stairs, and to the narrow asphalt road. The screen door creaked, and she knew someone was keeping an eye on her. Ignoring it, she walked to the road that ran parallel to the marsh and went right. When a long pier came into sight, she went to it. The air vibrated with sounds of creatures she didn’t recognize. She breathed deep, smelling the marsh and the nearby wildflowers. The sun edged toward the horizon, and the sky held a multitude of shades of blue and orange.

“God, I don’t want to be here on this planet.” She wiped her tears. “Please, I can’t take any more. Help me.”

Unsure what she was asking, Tara dropped the prayer. Did it matter what she wanted or needed?