Chapter 20

Behind me, the first game has started, and somebody yells instructions about playing first base. In front of me, I wave uncomfortably. The last time I saw this woman was at Ray’s funeral, and the time before that, we met in passing after I was sworn to secrecy by my brother.

“I don’t know if you remember me,” she says sheepishly.

“I do.”

She shifts her weight, her hand restlessly combing through her shoulder-length hair. I can imagine why my brother liked her. She appears the opposite of Shayna, natural and shy. He probably basked in the spotlight she allowed him to have.

“I’m sorry we weren’t able to get to know each other better.”

I jerk my head back. “Why?”

“Well, I… RJ and I…”

“He was cheating on his wife with you,” I state, and she visibly shrinks. I huff. She seems like a nice person. We might have even been friends if we’d met under different circumstances. But she was the other woman. Even though Shayna’s not my favorite person, I can’t get down with that. I fix my voice into a gentler tone. “I’m sorry, that was harsh.”

But true.

We stare at each other for a few too-long seconds, and then she blurts, “I loved him. I loved him so much.”

Gracie tugs at her leash to go, but this girl’s sad eyes keep me in place.

“I miss him so much it hurts sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, a familiar rock in my stomach forcing me to agree with her.

“I thought I would come today to be close with him somehow.” She chews on her lip for a moment before saying, “Maybe we could hang out and talk or something.”

“I’m really busy.”

“I can help,” she says a little too fast, with her hands reaching out to me. “I need to do something. I want to do something for him. For you.”

I give in because I don’t know if what they had was real, but I do know what it’s like to want to rewind somehow, have a little piece of him back. “My aunt’s at the registration table. She’ll give you 50/50 tickets you can sell. Sound good?”

She wipes at her nose and straightens herself up. “Yes, great. And maybe afterward, we can hang out? Maybe finally get to know each other? I’d love to ask you some questions about RJ.”

I offer her a fake smile and mumble a thanks before skirting her because, hell no, I don’t want to get to know her. I don’t want to be her stand-in for Ray or her crutch to lean on. I have enough of my own shit going on to take on hers too.

Gracie and I jog off behind the fence to a small patch of grass by the parking lot, where I sit next to her. “Why does everyone think I can manage their grief?” I ask Gracie. “I can barely manage my own.” She licks me. “It’s not like I can bring him back from the dead.”

I people watch, glaring at them as I’m overwhelmed with animosity toward everyone here at the park.

I know it’s irrational, but ever since Ray died, I resent everyone for living their normal lives. Typically, my hatred’s buried under the depression and anxiety, but it’s out in full force today. I don’t want them to be happy. I want them to suffer.

I want them to endure what I do. Live in the shadow of a ghost. Be responsible for every fucking person’s memories. Rip open their rib cage in order to put their heart on display for the world.

I grind my teeth and growl.

What I wouldn’t give for something to take the edge off right now. When I lived in the city, I had a friend, Marissa, who dealt weed. It was some real cheap stuff she upcharged rich college kids for, but she’d always let me have some for free. The rare times I had the night off, we’d spend it on her couch, under her weighted blanket, watching Boy Meets World. I’d usually conk out after one episode.

I thought my life was shit then.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Gracie and I soak in some sunshine for a few more brief moments while I put myself back together. I’ve become quite adept at it since Raymond’s death. I give in to the emotion only enough to relieve the pressure, a pinhole in a balloon, then slap on another Band-Aid to keep it all from draining out. After tying my hair up in a bun, I stand and stretch my back. For a moment, I consider actually opening that yoga app I have on my phone every once in a while, but who am I kidding?

Making my way back over to the field, I’m stopped by a man who introduces himself to me as a reporter for the local newspaper, and I paste on a grin. I’ll be the person I need to be for now and figure out the rest later. The reporter questions me about my brother, and I offer bland answers I know everyone will want to read. We discuss how the tournament will help out the school before Mr. Alvarado intercepts us. This time, I don’t actually mind. I’ve planned this event for months, I should enjoy this, but instead, I can’t wait until it’s over.

It’s a long day, and Gracie stays by my side the whole time. Between counting money and restocking snacks, I stop to watch one of the games. Vince’s team is playing. They’re all old teammates, and it actually brings me a small amount of joy to see them laughing and clowning with one another. Some of them look familiar, most of them don’t, but it wouldn’t matter anyway as my eyes always find Vince. He’s behind the plate, shouting directions, playing catcher. He’s so at ease, a complete natural, even now, all these years after he stopped playing. I wonder if he regrets not taking that scholarship. I sort of regret it for him. It’s clear he loves playing, and I want him to be happy.

At his next turn up to bat, he notices me and winks with a tip of his helmet. It’s totally dorky and endlessly charming. Not to mention, the wave he throws me as he jogs to first base after his home run. I refrain from melting into a puddle and take Gracie to the shade under a few trees. I try to enjoy a pack of nuts, but more people keep coming over to talk to me. They want to tell me stories about Ray, and I laugh or frown on cue, but underneath, my patience wears thin. I suppose I should be comforted by all of their words, yet I’m not. They knew “RJ,” some veneer of a person Raymond put on for them. He might’ve been the life of the party, but he was certainly no hero.

He was just your average guy. A guy who stole Nana’s 80th birthday cake from the grocery store because he didn’t want to wait in line to pay for it. A guy who’d split checks down to the cent over fifty-cent wings at our favorite pub. A guy who had good and bad qualities. But you wouldn’t know it. To them, he’s an angel, some kind of celebrity, a star in the middle of New Jersey.

To me, he was my big brother, and my love wasn’t based on an idea of him. Rather, the real Raymond. I loved him for all of it, the good and the bad, the secrets and the loud parts. I love him so much it makes me hate other people for loving the version of him they thought they knew.

“He’d be so proud of you,” someone tells me, and my skin goes hot. My fingers clench around Gracie’s leash, and I give them a curt nod goodbye.

One more thing they don’t know. Ray’s not proud. He can’t be anything. He’s dead.

I ignore the calls for my attention, including Aunt Joanie beckoning me, and head straight for my car. I lock myself in, with only Gracie’s shallow pants to keep me company as she sleeps with her head in my lap.

In the quiet, I let my head fall back and close my eyes.

Two soft taps on the doorframe wake me up, and I blink over to find Vince’s face. The sun is almost set behind him, an orange halo around his dark hair. He motions for me to roll down the window, and I do.

“You’re not supposed to lock dogs in the car in this kind of heat. It’s how they die from dehydration and heat exhaustion.” He squints. “Or was that your plan for the two of you?”

I know he’s being facetious from his tone of voice, but he’s doing the skeptical eyebrow raise that makes me think twice. “I’m depressed, not suicidal.” I hold up the water Gracie and I had shared. “I had the windows cracked, and we were only in here for—” I check the time “—fifteen minutes.”

His hazel eyes appraise me before he juts his chin toward the passenger seat. “Can I sit?”

I nod, and he makes his way around the front of the car. Sitting down, he leans against the door to face me and removes his baseball cap, his hair sweaty and sticking up every which way. Gracie settles herself in his lap.

“Tough day?” he asks, and I turn to the window.

“I thought it would be different doing this.”

“Different, how?”

“Closure, I guess.” When he puts his hand on my neck, I face him. “I thought it would be fun, but this sucks.”

He bursts out in a big laugh.

It’s contagious, and I laugh too. “Why are you laughing?”

“The way you said it,” he says after a while. “You’re the boss of this whole thing, and you hate it. It’s funny.”

“My misery is funny?”

“A little.”

When I look back to the window, he keeps his hand on me, fingertips stroking up and down the side of my neck. My skin tingles under his touch, and I want it all over me. I should tell him to stop. I should push him away. A voice in the back of my head reminds me there is no room in my life for Vince and his open, giving heart. There’s nothing I can give him in return. And yet, when his hand moves down, pressing in a soft massage, I smile at him.

And he smiles back.

And I shove that voice away, pretending I’m not broken. At least for now.

“I told your aunt I’d help find you,” he says. “The last game just finished.”

“Who won?” I ask.

He smirks his answer.

“Your team?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy your gift certificate to Big Al’s Barbecue.”

“Great.” He tugs on a lock of my hair. “I can take you on a date.”

I ignore the flip of my stomach and shake my head. “My tastes are more expensive. I’m more of a champagne and caviar gal.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll remember that.” He drops his hand to put Gracie’s leash back on her. “We better get you back out there. You need to present me with my prize.”

I roll my eyes but follow him out of the car, our arms brushing against each other as we walk. Juan is playing “Karma Chameleon” over the sound system, and Vince sings it softly. I stare at him until he grins. Then I grin.

And I’m fourteen again.

The moment is ruined when Aunt Joanie palms my shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?” She doesn’t let me answer. “Alvarado’s basically taken over. He’s acting like he put this all together.”

“Well, I?—”

“Go over there and say something.” She pushes me to where Juan is at the table with the sound system.

I hesitantly shuffle over to grab the microphone. I tap it twice to make sure it’s on. “Hi…hello, everyone. It’s me again, Cass. I wanted to once again thank you all for coming out. And present our winning team—” I motion to Aunt Joanie, and she hands me a basket filled with gift certificates and a couple bottles of alcohol, along with a paper of the teams “—with the prize.”

“Our third-place team is the Blue Barracudas.” A woman with short gray hair walks up to me to accept their fifty-dollar gift certificate and other prizes. “Second place are the Leopards.” A group of teachers from the middle school jump and cheer as Mr. Alvarado accepts their gift certificates. He gives me a thumbs-up, and I pretend to be happy for him. “And to our champions, the Big Ballers…” I chuckle at the ridiculous name and the team’s even more ridiculous celebration.

With the prizes awarded, Aunt Joanie hands me another piece of paper. “The winner of the 50/50 lottery will receive $246, and it goes to…” I glance down at the name and choke. “Victor Alvarado.”

Mr. Alvarado strides up to me and leans in to the microphone. “I will, of course, give this money back to Cassandra to add it to the total.”

A round of applause sounds, and I continue, “I hope everyone had fun today. With all of your help, we’ve raised over three thousand dollars to purchase new laptops for Edison.”

The crowd whoops and hollers their praise, and I offer one final thank-you before they start dispersing. By the time I finish shaking hands and speaking to every person who stops me, the field is littered with garbage. I find a bag to clean up, noticing Mr. Alvarado has split the scene, literally taken his money and run, and it pisses me off. Also missing is Nell, not that I was looking forward to her company, but an extra pair of hands would be nice. My parents speak to a couple by the fence. Well, Mom cries and Dad has his arms folded.

“Hey,” Vince says at my side. He’s got a pair of Big Ballers behind him. “We’re going to grab a couple drinks. Want to come with us?”

The men look friendly enough, but I don’t want to be the sad, tagalong little sister. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

“Come on.” He bends slightly, lowering his mouth so I can smell the mint gum he’s been chewing. “You need to get out.”

“You guys go. I’m good, really.”

“Sure?”

“Totally.”

He eyes me for a second then turns over his shoulder to his friends. “I’ll meet you there.”

They nod, waving at us before it clicks in my head. He’s staying with me. “You don’t have to do this.”

He takes the garbage bag out of my fingers. “You don’t either.”

“Well, I kind of do,” I say with my arms up to demonstrate the almost-empty field.

“You really don’t, Cass.” When I shrug, he continues to throw trash into the bag. “You know when you fly in a plane and the attendants say to put on your oxygen mask before helping someone else do it?”

“Sure.”

He stops with a paper plate in his hand to stare meaningfully at me. I don’t understand, and he lets out a low sigh. “You’ve got to put on your own oxygen mask.”

He’s only trying to help. However, what he doesn’t understand is that if the plane is going down, an oxygen mask isn’t going to help. “I never knew you were so metaphorical.”

“I’m being serious.”

His words set me back, and I’m too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. Gracie rests a few feet away, and I focus on her instead. She doesn’t make me confront things I’m not ready to. “I know you are. And I appreciate it.”

“But…?” he intones, guessing correctly.

“But it’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me.”

I take a breath and pick up a few pieces of trash. “I didn’t want to do this, but I didn’t want anyone else but me doing it either.”

“I don’t get it,” he says, tying up the bag and setting it aside so we can gather up all the leftover T-shirts and supplies.

“I guess…” I’m not sure I have the words to describe the devotion I have for my brother, and I search the sky until I find it. “I’m protective. Like, you can’t make fun of my brother, only I can…except opposite. You can’t properly talk about my brother or raise money in his name or bury him or…” I glance over to Vince with tears in my eyes.

He immediately puts down the pallet of water and gathers me up in his arms, whispering “sweetheart” against my temple.

I’m becoming dependent on Vince’s soft words and comforting hugs, and I don’t have the will to pull away from him. When I tip my chin up to him, a few inches separate us in height, but it’s easy to rise up and kiss the corner of his mouth. Only a peck, nothing really.

Except, it’s not. It’s everything.

It’s comfort and tenderness and everything sweet.

He blinks at me, as if to collect his bearings, then leans down for another kiss. I accept his mouth fully against mine, not hurried or pushing for more. We’re simply together. There is nowhere else for us to go, nothing else for us to do. The tip of his tongue finds my bottom lip as his hands sink into my hair and twist into my T-shirt, pressing against my back. His feet bracket mine, every part of my body cradled by him.

When I open my mouth, accepting his searching tongue against mine, he lets out a barely audible groan, but it still sends goose bumps up my arms as I wrap them around his neck, forcing both of his hands to my waist, the tips of his fingers rounding over my backside, digging in ever so slightly. Like he holds on to my neck. Like he knows I need something to keep me moored to the earth. To him.

Because I do. I need it.

I need him.

And that’s when I realize what I’m doing, instantly regretting it.

I can’t act like this with him. I can’t accept his kisses and touches when I know what he’ll expect in return. Vince deserves someone who is whole and ready to offer him everything they have.

I am not that person.

I break away so quickly, stumbling back, my lungs seizing like he stole all the air from them. I press one hand to my breastbone, the other to my mouth, and he holds on to my elbow as I steady myself.

“Thanks for helping me,” I eventually mumble then pivot around, finishing packing up. “I don’t want to hold you up any longer. Go have fun with your friends.”

He wraps his fingers around my forearm so I’ll meet his gaze, and his eyes move back and forth between mine. His pupils are dilated, both attraction and confusion there. I try on a smile.

He doesn’t respond with one. Instead, his hand drifts down, his fingers finding mine for a too brief moment, and then he turns to walk away with Gracie lagging behind. “See you later, Cass.”

My cheeks expand on a big exhale, and I load up my car as I replay those moments in my head. Vince is steady, an anchor in the storm, but I have to be able to stand on my own two feet. I don’t want to rely on him. Or anyone, for that matter. I can’t let my emotions run wild; it’s not fair to him.

“You’re the worst,” I admonish myself.

“Talking to yourself?” Aunt Joanie snickers, coming up behind me. I force a laugh too and take the envelope she extends toward me. “It’s all the cash from the concessions and fifty-fifty.”

I open the envelope to count out a couple of twenties. “The school won’t miss this,” I say, raising my eyes to Aunt Joanie. “I figured I should give some of this to Shayna for the girls.”

“Of course.”

Mom and Dad approach us. Mom kisses my cheek, barely a whisper of a touch, while my dad swings his car keys in his hand. “Good job with this, Cassandra.”

“Thank you.”

He clears his throat, his eyes wandering around the field as if he’s seeing something no one else is. His face goes pink, and he blinks rapidly before clearing his throat again then backs away toward the car. Mom follows dutifully. Aunt Joanie leaves after another hug.

Then it’s only me and a couple bags of garbage. I haul it all to a bin at the other end of the parking lot before sitting in my car. As I put the key in the ignition, my breath is suddenly impossible to take in.

It’s finally all over, and the relief I thought I’d feel is nowhere to be found, while the loneliness is in abundance. My high hopes for this fundraiser to bring my family back together are dashed. My parents are more disconnected than before. Detached from me, from each other, from reality.

All day, all I wanted were moments by myself, and now that I have them, I’d like to give them back. The funny thing about going through all of this is when I think I have what I want, it’s not any better. Day to day, moment to moment, it’s a fight to get through, and right when I think I’m good, a wave knocks me back over and I have to start again.

And sitting in my car alone, I know I have to start paddling back to shore again. But it’s hard, and I’m out of breath.

I squeeze my fingers around the steering wheel and jam my head back against the seat, closing my eyes to the tears. I try to imagine what Ray would say to me.

Why didn’t you go for a drink, you loser?

Nell was only trying to help.

I can’t believe you actually put this together. You had to talk to people, like, real live people. Did it hurt?

Maybe he’d be happy. Maybe he’d think I was being overly sensitive. “If you were still alive, I wouldn’t have to wonder.”

I open my eyes and drag my palm down my cheek before swiping my phone on. The deflated balloon hanging off the gatepost is a perfect metaphor for me, and I snap a picture of it, writing a post. Each movement of my thumbs stamps my anger and defeat into words.

Once it’s posted, there are immediate interactions, likes, and comments.

“You should write a book about this,” someone named Harmony writes, and I laugh. If I were going to write a book, it’d be a historical romance with courting, kissing, and a devastatingly handsome dark-haired, hazel-eyed hero. Not a melodrama starring a jaded girl and a dead guy.