Finding Refuge (23 page)

Dan looked up from his desk where he sat reading a letter,
then pressed the button to turn off the speakers. “What’s up?”

His brother had changed, and Travis was ashamed to realize
he didn’t know when it had happened. Danny had cut his long hair just shy of
military short, making the angles of his face that much more defined. He’d
added another thick, solid slash and sharp curves to the heavy black tattoo on
his left arm, newly visible below his t-shirt sleeve. Enduring that much ink
had to hurt like hell. Travis shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “How’s it
going?”

Danny’s brow furrowed. “On which job?”

“No, not work-wise. How are things with you?”

He shrugged, his well-worn defiant expression appearing.
“Good. Clean. Mostly sober. Nothing for you to worry about.”

The bite in Danny’s voice hurt. He remembered that moment
when Andri asked him if he ever really spent time with his brother on a
personal level. Shame burned in his gut when he faced the truth head-on. No. He
didn’t. It had become all about battling the addiction.

He’d kept the pamphlets and other handouts he’d found on his
father’s desk. Last night, he’d taken the time to read them, with an open mind,
trying to learn. His brother had a long way to go to heal. So did he. This was
only the first of many changes he needed to make.

“Danny.” He pulled up a chair and dropped into it, putting
himself level with his brother. “Can we just talk for a bit? For real?”

Danny eyed him with suspicion. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been so busy trying to act like a keeper that
I’ve forgotten how to be a brother. And I’d really like to know how you’re doing.”

Danny sat back. He stared at his desk for a moment, myriad
emotions flashing across his sharp features. Travis forced himself to wait
patiently while his brother worked through things in his own head. Finally, he
looked up and gave Travis the first genuine smile, tentative but real, that
he’d seen from Danny in a very long time.

“I’m getting there, Trav. But, I…this time I’m approaching
it for real. I’m trying to get the depression handled. I’ve started on a new
prescription.”

Wow. In the world of Danny, admitting he needed help and
then actually taking that help, especially antidepressants, was huge. “That’s
great.”

“Yeah. I have a good doc. He told me to hang in there, and
if this one doesn’t work, there are other options. He promised we’ll figure it
out if I’m willing to work with him. And I have my twelve-step sponsor, and the
counselor he referred me to. I think I can do this, you know? And I have to. I,
um…”

His voice wavered, then died. He scrubbed a hand across his
short hair in a motion very familiar to Travis. “I promised Dad. When he drove
me home that night. He drove two hours to pick me up when all I wanted was
money to keep playing. And, of all things, he said he was proud of me for not
falling too far that time. Can you believe that? Just because I wasn’t totally
blitzed when I called him. Made me feel like shit.”

The sheer loathing in Danny’s voice made Travis’s heart
ache. “I can only imagine.”

Danny drew a shuddering breath. “I wanted to make him proud
for real. So, in the hospital, I promised him.” His eyes were red when he
lifted his gaze to meet Travis’s. “Can I ask you a question, Trav?”

He swallowed hard, unsure if his voice would work through
the lump in his throat. “Yeah?”

Danny fell silent for a moment, then finally said, “It feels
like my fault that Dad’s dead. Maybe, if I hadn’t called that night, if he
hadn’t made that drive. I mean, I shouldn’t have put that stress on him.”

Compassion pressed hard on Travis’s chest. “Dan, don’t. It’s
not your fault. But I understand. I feel like it’s my fault too.”

Danny’s brow creased in confusion. “Why?”

No way in hell would he say
because I
told you to call him
, though he did feel terrible guilt about that. It
wouldn’t make Danny feel better in any way, so he kept it to himself. “Because I
knew he wasn’t feeling well, and I tried to get him in for a checkup. I should
have tried harder, or taken him myself.”

Danny cocked his head to the side, looking at him. “Travis,
just because you’re the oldest son doesn’t mean everything is your responsibility.
If Dad knew he wasn’t well, he should have gone to the doctor. That’s his
error, not yours, not by a long shot. And Mother had to know he wasn’t doing so
hot, She could have said something. Hell, maybe she did. Dad was stubborn. He
probably didn’t listen to her either.”

Travis thought about that for a while. “It still feels like
my fault.”

“Still feels like mine.”

After a moment of silence, Travis gave voice to something
his office manager had suggested to him the other day, when she’d noticed him struggling.
“Maybe it’s not anyone’s fault. Maybe it’s just one of those awful damn things
that happens.”

Somehow it felt too easy to call it
one
of those things
.

Danny considered the idea for a moment. “Nobody’s fault?
I’ve used that to excuse a lot of things when it wasn’t true.”

“Yeah, I know. But maybe this time it is the truth. It’s
kind of a strange concept for me, but I think I might try it on for size. See
how it feels.”

Danny nodded. “I think you should. Probably be good for
you.”

Travis smiled, surprised at how good a little brotherly
absolution made him feel. Then he sobered. “Danny, can you forgive me for not
really being there as a brother?”

Danny blew out a breath, shaking his head. “Trav, you’ve
always been there. Maybe not always the way I wanted you to be, but you’ve been
there anyway. Besides, I understand why you are the way you are.”

Travis frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You try to save me because of Jacob.”

His gut churned, darkness and sludge filling him. “I worry
about you for your own sake, Dan.”

“I believe that. But, I’ve watched you try to wrangle with
the memory of Jacob all these years. I know you thought no one noticed. I did,
though.”

Travis sat in stunned silence. He’d tried so hard to keep
that first, greatest failing shoved down in the darkest recesses of his soul.
How the hell had Danny seen it? How could he have known what he struggled with,
when Danny was little more than a toddler when it happened? “It’s a lot to
wrangle with.”

“Doesn’t need to be. That wasn’t your fault, any more than
Dad, or my ration of shit was your fault or responsibility.”

“You and I obviously remember things differently.”

“Then you need to think about it with a clearer vision.”

“Danny, you were five.”

Danny laughed without humor in it. “And you were ten. You
were ten, and he was sixteen. Think about that, Trav.” Danny leaned toward him
over the desk. “Seriously. Put it in perspective. You were ten, just like
cousin Holly’s twins. A scrawny ten-year-old versus a kid twice your size, a
teenager with a death wish. What exactly do you think you could have done to
stop him? How can you imagine it could’ve gone differently?”

The shock sent a cold sweat breaking over his skin. Danny
broke down the most awful part of his life from a polar opposite point of view
and it left him speechless. His thoughts churned. Yes, he’d only been ten, but
he remembered everything with such clarity…didn’t he? Had he ever put his age
in context?

“I never really thought of it like that.” Holly’s kids were
cute, precocious, and entertaining to listen to for a while between their
moments of annoying, but they were children. The difference between them and
his cousin Sean, who’d turned sixteen in January—damn, they were a world apart.
In his memories, he and Jacob were on the same level, but how could they have
been, really?

He’d become the eldest son after Jacob died, and Dad had
impressed on him the understanding of responsibility that came with being the
oldest. Had that all run together until it became exaggerated and twisted
inside him?

It left him unsettled, with a great deal to think about. He
was starting to see that much of the torture he’d suffered over the years might
have been self-inflicted. And here he thought Danny was the one with all the
issues. His brother’s were just more obvious than his own.

He shook himself free from thoughts he knew he’d have to go
back to before he could completely let them go. “Dan, do you want to go do
something sometime?”

His brother grinned, but gave Travis a non-committal shrug.
“Dunno. Are you any fun to hang out with?”

“I have my moments. Do you still waterski?” It shamed him to
realize he didn’t know what Danny enjoyed anymore.

“No. I like to hike though.”

Travis stood and stretched. “I haven’t bagged a peak in a
while. Want to go climb a mountain next week?”

Danny’s eyes lit up. “Pfeifferhorn? That should kick both
our asses.”

He stifled a groan. That was a bit more mountain than he had
in mind, but it could’ve been worse. At least Danny didn’t suggest Lone Peak.
“You’re on.”

****

Travis found his mother one Friday morning, standing in
front of her wild flower garden, gloves and floppy sunhat in one hand. Travis
had checked on her every day in the weeks since the funeral. She wasn’t coping
terribly well, but then, who among them was? He waited for a moment, watching
her as she stared at the beds, as if she wasn’t really seeing them. He didn’t
think she’d seen him, either, until she spoke.

“This garden always amused him, your father.”

She never spoke to him about anything to do with her
relationship with Dad. He barely breathed, afraid to say anything that might
stop her from talking.

“He said that people looking at my garden were seeing the
real me and they didn’t know it. It was his greatest secret on display, and no
one ever realized.”

He looked from his mother to the overgrown garden and back
again. How could that possibly be her, his mother who never let a hair out of
place, who defined refinement and elegance, who insisted on perfection in every
last detail?

She carefully settled the sunhat over her hair. “Even he
didn’t realize how right he was. It’s unruly now, neglected rather than free. I
haven’t worked out here in a very long time. I paid someone to weed it on
occasion, but even that fell by the wayside. I haven’t bothered to add anything
new. And I finally understand why.”

His heart pounded when she turned to face him. “Why,
Mother?”

“Because this is where I put my heartache. I came out here
to plant a bleeding heart a week after we lost Jacob. I thought I could leave
the suffering here with the flower. Instead I ended up leaving my joy, too.

“I left that part of myself here, instead of giving it to
you and to Daniel. I’m sorry, Travis. I let you down.”

The bruised child hidden deep inside of him peeked out,
seeking warmth from her apology. The adult in him cringed to hear her cut
herself like that, but when he shook his head and opened his mouth to absolve
her, she said, “No, Travis. Don’t tell me what I want to hear. The truth is
what it is. Let me own it.”

She was still his cool, pleasant, but impassive mother. If
she didn’t want to let him placate her self-doubt, perhaps there was one thing
she would accept from him. Something he hadn’t said to her in a very long time.
“I love you.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes for a moment before she
swallowed them back. “Thank you. I love you, too.”

The awkwardness stretched but snapped off abruptly when she
looked down at her hands and pulled on the gardening gloves. “Well, then,” she
said briskly. “I have a great deal to do if I’m going to reclaim this garden.
I’d better get started.”

She turned away, sank to her knees, and began to pull out
weeds. Only now, he saw it for what it was—repairing and reclaiming herself.

****

He hadn’t seen Andri in weeks, and though he’d had plenty of
work to do, on far more than his job, he couldn’t bear the loss of her any
longer. It was time to secure the most important relationship in his life.

He drove to her apartment Friday night. He’d waited long
enough to catch her at home even if she’d put in one of her twelve hour days.
Her car was in its space. Good. His heart pounded in anticipation as he walked
up to her door. He knocked.

No response. Maybe she was in the shower. That thought
kicked up a flare of heat deep inside that he tamped down. Later. He slipped
his key in the lock and let himself in.

One light was on in the kitchen, but the silence in the
apartment struck him. Was she asleep? It wasn’t that late. Fluffball jumped up
on a nearby chair and meowed for attention.

“Hey, buddy.” He scratched the cat’s back. “Where’s my
girl?”

He checked her bedroom, the bathroom, tension growing by the
moment. He looked into her office. No laptop. A few pages sat on the printer
tray. The internet address printed on the bottom of the pages looked like it
might have been an email she printed, taking what she needed on the first page
and leaving behind the excess ads and junk. Ads for rental cars, hotels…where
was she going?

He gave Fluffball some attention before he left. He called
Andri on the way to his truck. No answer. Was she avoiding him?

There was only one place he could think of to go now. He
drove, not wanting to call for fear of what he might hear over the phone. He
cursed the length of the drive, but his luck wasn’t all bad tonight. The lights
were on at Rachel’s when he finally reached her house. She opened the door, she
gave him a once-over and stepped back to let him in. “She’s not here.”

“What, I can’t come see my oldest friend just because I miss
her company?”

Rachel shook her head. “Oh, please. Though I think you
probably owe me dinner. Or a movie. That would be nice.”