Broken Pieces (Cape Isle, #3): A Cape Isle Novel (22 page)

That's another thing about small towns in the south, everyone wants to come pay their condolences. It isn't just at the funeral or the visitation. It's all of the time, from the moment they find out about the death, until days after the funeral when you literally have to stop answering the door. They treat it like it's a social gathering. They want to bring food and they want to tell you how sorry they are. Some of these people are genuine, they want to make sure that you're okay, but the rest of them are just nosy. There is something about death that fascinates people. I'll never understand it.

My mom shoos me out of the kitchen and tells me to go sit. I'm too tired to fight her. I walk towards the living room and sit down on the couch next to Zack.

It takes him awhile, but eventually he turns to me and loops his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey.”

His arm stays around my waist and I lean my head on his shoulder.

Today Sucks.

* * *

It takes two hours after we get home for my little house to become filled with people. We now have enough casseroles to last us at least a month. Summer closed down the bakery and her and Grant where the first to arrive. They didn't say much. They each gave us a hug then sat down with us in silence. That's when you know you have good friends. They know what you need. They don't try to make you talk or try to carry on a forced conversation. They sit with you in silence, but you know that they are there for you.

Katie had two appointments at the clinic she had to finish up, but a few minutes after Grant and Summer arrive, so does her and Nick along with her daughter, Abbi.

Nick comes straight to me and pulls me into a bear hug. “I'm sorry, Lex. I know how close you were to Joanna,” he murmurs.

I grab onto the back of his shirt, but I don't say anything as I take some of the strength from my big brother.

When he finally lets go of me, I'm a little shocked that he wraps Zack in the same type of hug he gave me. He pats him on the back a couple of times and speaks in a low tone, but I still hear.

“I'm sorry. We are here, whatever you need we are here for you, brother.”

I want to cry and tell him how thankful I am for him in that moment. I know Zack isn't one of his favorite people, but for him to put aside his feeling and offer his support, makes me love my big brother even more.

I hug Katie and try to paste on a smile for Abbi, but it doesn't really work. I can't even remember the last time my mouth formed into a smile. Katie tells Abbi she can go play with Lady outside and with a little wave to Zack, she is running towards the back door.

Nick disappears into the kitchen and comes back a second later with a drink for me and Zack.

I look up at him in confusion and Zack does the same as we reach out and take the cups from him.

“It's going to be a long day and you both look wrecked. Drink up.”

I smell the contents before looking over at Zack, he's already taking a big gulp.

I quickly realize that it's whiskey and it makes me want to hug my brother again.

We spend the rest of the afternoon and night receiving hugs and condolences from what feels like the entire town. My mom brings us both a plate of food into the living room and forces us to eat. I pick at the food, before finally just getting up and throwing it away. I'm just not hungry. I haven't been in weeks. I always feel sick to my stomach and I know I've lost weight. I can tell by how my clothes are fitting. That's another thing that I just don't give two shits about.

Eventually everyone leaves and it's just me and Zack. I know he's tired. I can see it in his eyes and the way he is holding his body. When I let the last guest out and lock the door, he lets out a sigh and relaxes against the couch.

I walk to the kitchen and make us both another drink from the bottle my brother brought.

I take them into the living room and hand Zack his before sitting down on the couch.

“Tomorrow will be just as long,” I mumble.

“I know.”

“We need to talk to the florist. I didn't even think about that today.”

“I know.”

“If you need me to, I'll go to your house tomorrow and grab two suits.”

“Okay.”

I stare at him, willing him to say something, but nothing ever comes. He lays his head back against the couch and closes his eyes.

I fucking hate this. I hate that I'm hurting. I hate that he's hurting. I hate that he won't talk, but most of all I hate that I feel like I'm losing him and there isn't a damn thing I can do to stop it.

The next morning, I wake up alone. I feel the sheets on Zack's side of the bed, but they are cold: he must have been up for a while.

I throw the covers back and go into the bathroom.

I brush my teeth and use the toilet, before walking towards the kitchen where I see him through the sliding glass doors. He's sitting outside, looking out into my backyard.

I pour my cup of coffee and walk outside to join him.

“Good morning,” I mumble.

He briefly looks over at me and I can see the darkness under his eyes.

“Morning,” he replies before looking back to the spot he was staring out at.

Okay. I'll give him this week. I'll give him time to adjust, because Lord knows I haven't adjusted yet. The difference in us right now is that he is shutting down and I am trying to cling to him.

He'll come around, right?

My Zack is in there somewhere.

I look up at the sky and sigh.

Joanna, if you’re listening, I need a little help here.

* * *

The visitation goes much like I anticipated. I stand beside Zack as everyone comes by to offer more condolences. Korean is on the other side of him, but I don't think he even notices either of us are there. He nods his head and shakes hands, but I think he's working on auto pilot.

After we leave the funeral home, a few close friends and family members follow us back to my house. Drinks are poured and I lay out more food for everyone.

There are a few people in the living room, but mostly everyone has gathered outside. Jenna walks into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine.

I lean back against the counter and close my eyes for a second.

I'm so fucking tired.

“Hey,” Jenna whispers.

I open my eyes and look over at her.

“Hi.” I don't offer her a smile like I normally would. I'm not even sure my mouth would move like that right now.

“Are you okay?” I've never seen Jenna looked so concerned. It's a little disarming.

I nod my head. “I'm fine.”

She stares into my eyes and shakes her head. “You are a fucking liar.”

I almost smile at that, but I don't because she's right. I'm so far from okay, it's not even funny. I quickly look away and clear my throat. “I'll make it through this, it just might take me awhile.”

I feel her hand grab mine and she squeezes.

“I love you, Lexie and I'm here for you, day or night. I know you're dealing with a lot more than just Joanna's death. You're trying to hold it together for the both of you and I'm scared that's too much pressure on you. If you need to talk, bitch, drink or whatever else you might need, just call me. Okay?”

I feel the tears leaking out of my eyes as I nod my head.

“Alright. Get yourself a drink and come on outside.” She gives my hand a squeeze, before letting go and walking through the back door.

How fucked up am I that Jenna even notices?

I'm trying so hard to keep my shit together, but I think I keep forgetting that my eyes speak. I just wish that Zack would take a second to look at me.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Zack

W
E GET BACK TO
L
EXIE'S
house from the funeral.

It's a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky, yet I feel it should be fucking raining.

I loosen the tie around my neck and pour myself another drink, looking towards the back door where everyone is standing outside.

I'm so fucking sick of people being at the house. I want them all to go the hell away. I see Lexie standing by her brother and he has his arm thrown around her shoulder. She has her sunglasses on, hiding what I know is bloodshot eyes and dried tears. She didn't openly cry at the funeral. She sat stoically beside me, not saying one word and not moving an inch. I could see the tears rolling down her cheeks, even though occasionally she would wipe them away.

Her mouth is still pulled down into a deep frown.

I can hardly remember what her smile looks like anymore. It's been weeks since I've seen it. Her black dress hangs on her too-thin figure. I know all of her pain doesn't have to do with my mom dying, but I know a lot of it is. She was very close to her. I'm not stupid, though. I know some of it has to do with me. I see the looks she gives me sometimes when she thinks I don't notice. I wish I could read her mind and give her whatever it is she's looking for right now, but I can't. I'm battling my own demons. I'm too much in my own mind to see what's inside of hers; I know this. I fucking
know
this, but I don't know what to do to change that.

I pull my sunglasses down over my eyes and walk into the hot summer air towards Lexie, but I'm stopped several times on the way to her by more people who want to give their condolences. I have to grit my teeth against the ‘fuck you’s’ that want to fly out of my mouth as I nod my head in thanks.

Where were these people while she lay in that bed day after day? Where were these people when her pain was so unbearable that all I could do was hold her hand?

I know they mean well, but I can count on maybe two hands the number of people that were actually there for her this past month. Now I have to watch all of the others, who didn't do a mother-fucking thing, walk around Lexie's house offering us hugs and fucking casseroles like it will actually help the situation. It doesn't and I'm fucking sick of it.

I finally get to Lexie's side and I look down at her.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hi,” she responds. Her voice sounds flat.

Nick looks down at his sister and then over to me. He stares at me for so long that I almost ask him what the fuck he wants, but finally he sighs and looks away. He doesn't drop his arm away from Lexie and I don't pull her to me. We just stand here like two fucking strangers and I hate it. I hate it even more that I don't do a damn thing about it. I put my cup to my lips and take a big drink, feeling the whiskey burn all the way down. If I'm lucky, I'll be drunk enough not to care soon.

Later that night, I'm sitting on the back patio when Lexie walks the last person out of the house. I watch as she comes back into the kitchen and runs her fingers through her hair, before starting to clean up. I want her to walk out here to me. I want her to do something other than just go through the motions.

The whiskey isn't helping to numb my mind. I need a distraction. I’m sick of feeling nothing but this overwhelming sense of grief. I set my cup down and walk inside. Her back is to me as I walk up behind her and push her hair to one side over her shoulder. I have flashbacks of doing the same thing hundreds of times before, happier times, when our lives were so much more simple.

She flinches when my mouth meets her neck and it feels like a stab to the heart. She's not used to me touching her like this anymore.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

“Kissing your neck.”

“Are you okay?”

Her question makes me pull back. That's the first time she has asked that question. We've danced around the subject, but we haven't come right out and asked if either of us were okay.

“No, Lexie, I'm not okay, but I think you already knew the answer to that question. Are you okay?”

“No, I'm not.” I can hear the tears in her voice.

Her hands are squeezing the edge of the counter, almost like she is holding herself back from something.

I rest my forehead on her shoulder and close my eyes. “I need to feel something other than what I'm feeling.”

“Me too, Zack.”

With my hands still on her hips, I turn her around and look down into her sad eyes. She studies mine and shakes her head. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” That is the first time I've ever lied to Lexie. I'm not falling down drunk, but I am definitely feeling the effects of all of the alcohol I've consumed today.

She doesn't call me out on my lie, but if possible her eyes get even sadder. “Okay.”

I bring my lips down to hers and kiss her for the first time in what feels like forever. This kiss is different and not a good kind of different. This kiss is filled with pain and heartache, for many different reasons.

I pick Lexie up. Her arms circle my neck and she wraps her legs around my waist.

“I just need to feel you, please.” I mumble against her lips as I carry her to the bedroom.

She nods her head, as I lay her down, and she pulls her dress over her head lying back on the bed. I quickly strip out of my clothes and crawl between her legs. She kisses my neck and across my jaw, before whispering in my ear.

“Take whatever it is you need.”

I should have said something then, but I didn't. I needed to quiet my brain. I needed to feel something other the pain, so I took the comfort she offered me by giving her my body, but that's all I offered in return. My heart was too broken to offer her anything else.

* * *

This is how we spend the next month.

We rarely speak.

We don't share smiles or funny stories about our days.

I leave her house early for work every morning, briefly giving her a kiss on the cheek. I work myself to the bone at the fire station during the week and I work for Grant at the construction company on the weekends. I go to the cemetery every night when I get off, staying until the sun is set low in the sky and return to Lexie's house, where we share a quiet meal and I lose myself in her body.

She's getting fed up with my behavior. I see it in her eyes every time she looks at me, but I don't know how to fix what seems to be broken.

Pain changes people. I don't feel like the same man I was two months ago, when I was desperately trying to win Lexie's love. No matter what I do to try to move on from the pain, deep down inside I'll always know that I'll never get to hug my mom again. I'll never get to hear any more of her wisdom and advice. I've lived without my dad for a long time now, but I don't know how to live without my mom.