Five

Liz

"He wants to see you in his office," were the first words Frank uttered as I entered through the front door.

"Thanks."

I made my way to my changing room, before heading into Brian's office. When I entered, I found him sitting in the dark with the smallest flicker of light entered through the small cracks of his blinds.

"What's got you all dark and broody?" I leaned against the corner of his desk, trying to get a read of his facial expression in the dim light. He was all shadows and harsh lines, not allowing me to make out the look in his eyes.

"I just wanted to tell you we are closing early today. We'll be closed after lunch, but don't worry, everyone is still getting paid for the full day. Just try to get as much done as you can."

I furrowed my brow as Brian ignored my question completely, not sounding like himself at all. A week had passed since our motorcycle race, with no new occurrences of fun happening. Something was clearly bothering him, but I couldn't make heads or tails of what it could be.

"Okay." With a deep exhale, I wearily pushed off his desk, leaving his office in confusion as he remained silent. It wasn't like Brian to be secretive. At least he didn't use to be, but a lot can change about a person in eighteen years.

I was busying myself at my station when Mason appeared, resting his hands on the side of the open hood. He pressed his forehead against his forearm as he stared distantly at the engine of the MX-6.

"What's up?" I asked him, feeling the need to get him away from me as soon as possible. It was pretty damn obvious something was bothering him, wanting to come to me to talk about it.

"Just this day. It gets us all down to see him like this." Mason frowned, still mindlessly staring at the engine as if it weren't the heart of a car, but that of a human's.

My eyes snapped to him, stopping midway. "Do you know why he's acting like that? It's not like him."

"He's usually pretty broody, but today is definitely one of those extra days. Understandably so, considering."

"Considering what?" I stood straight, all attention on Mason, as if nothing else in the world mattered at the moment.

"You don't know?" Mason appeared surprised as he finally met my gaze, looking just as perplexed as me.

"Obviously not. So are you going to tell me or what?"

"His fiance died eight years ago today, when they were on tour together. He closes early and drives out to her grave every year."

Fiance? A dead fiance at that.

Anger rose in me like a scorching fire. All that fury was directed at myself, having never bothered to keep up with his life. He knew about Lyle and his death, knew about the kids and even when they were born, while I, on the other hand, didn't even know he had a fiance. I had no idea he had lost someone he loved.

Every piece of me wanted to yell, wanted to punch and kick at this cruel world, but instead, I found myself making my way towards his office once more. I burst through his door like a whirlwind, needing to see him — to be by his side. My eyes landed on his silhouette in the dark, closing the door behind me as I marched towards his desk.

"Lizzie, not now, please."

There was no stopping me as I pushed his chair back, causing it to roll away from his desk. That was when I wrapped my arms around him, forcing them behind his neck and holding him tight.

"Why didn't you tell me you lost someone, too?"

Silence.

He was stiff until I felt his shoulders shake and his thumb and index finger rub at his eyes. He's crying. My already broken self chipped further away at the sound of his silent sadness. It was a new kind of profound pain to know he wasn't okay, to know he knew my heartache.

"I didn't feel it was right of me to tell you. You're dealing with your own loss right now. It hasn't even been a year yet. I can't bog you down with my own shit."

I pulled away, seeing his eyes better as the light from the blinds hit his irises. With very little force, I lightly punched his arm. "Don't be stupid, Brian. I'm a grown woman, which means I deal with a lot more than I should on a daily basis. I am so sorry I didn't already know. Award me the medal for worst friend."

Brian stood up so fast, I almost didn't back away in time to not get accidentally head butted. His muscular arms wrapped around me as his nose nuzzled into my neck, holding me in a long, warm embrace. "You're not the worst friend ever, Lizzie. I am. I pulled away from you. It was me who ghosted you, who only kept tabs through your socials, while I kept everything private. You don't need to worry about me. I've dealt with my loss, gotten over my grief. Today's just hard, and it always will be."

"Brian, let me be there for you the way you're there for me. Will you let me do that today?"

His eyes flickered between my own as he gave me a slight nod. I could see a void in his eyes, the one I witnessed in myself when I thought of Lyle. It hurt more to see it on him, on the guy who used to always smile at me like I was the light of the world.

I left him alone to finish working, rushing through so that he would have less to worry about tomorrow. Before I knew it, we were closing shop and leaving for the day. I found Brian waiting for me near a bright cherry-red Mustang.

"Is that…?" My question trailed off as I distinctly recalled this car at the junkyard in our youth.

"The very car we'd lay back on and listen to music in." He nodded, opening the passenger door for me to slip into. "It took me a few years, but I brought her back to life."

Brian patted the side of the car as he closed the door, as if it were a sort of affection towards the vehicle. I ran my hand over the leather interior and fixed dash, remembering the horrid state it was once in. Staring at it all, I couldn't help but picture the hard work he had done to get this car looking this pristine.

"I have to stop and get some flowers on the way. Are you sure you can come? I know you have Lily and Milo to pick up."

"Elle will get them. I'm yours for the afternoon, Brian."

He nodded, pulling out of the shop in the direction of Mia's flower shop, which used to be Donald's paint shop back in my day. I wasn't sure how much of this I would be able to handle, but I'd do my best for him. Whatever my best meant.

I left Lizzie in the car as I stepped into Mia's shop, greeted by its sweet floral scent. The natural light streaming from the many windows enhanced the color of each flower, creating a more vibrant display. Mia loved to color code her flowers, giving each section of her store its own feel.

"Hey," she greeted me with a small smile. She knew what today was, being my flower stop every year since I came back. Eight years today.

"Hi, Mia."

Her round, brown eyes filled with pity as she stared at me, grabbing the flowers she knew I wanted. "Red carnations, right?"

They were Sam's favorites. She always told me roses may have thorns, but carnations are tougher since they don't wither as easily.

"Yeah."

I lost sight of Mia behind the display case as her short stature went around the red roses. Her black bun could be seen before her face as she came back around. She wrapped the flowers and, as usual, wouldn't accept my money for them. Mia had always been kind that way, despite not even knowing me before I returned to Willowbrook.

"Thank you."

Taking a deep breath before opening the door, I prepared myself for the heartache. Seeing Sam's grave was always a stab to the heart, resurfacing the memories from the day she died — the day my whole life came crashing down. I understood Lizzie's pain better than anyone, but also probably not as much. I only had three years with Sam, whereas Lizzie had twenty years of memories with Lyle. But it's impossible to measure grief — to compare it to someone else's.

I headed back out towards the car I poured myself into in hopes of keeping Sam's dead eyes from my mind. The moment I watched the life fade from her eyes, pinned under that humvee, was the moment my heart died. I stopped being that playful, annoying guy, coming out of it dark and bitterly alone.

"Those are beautiful." Lizzie held her hands out to hold them for me. I gave them to her with the smallest of smiles, driving towards Meadow Creek. All this time, Samantha only lived thirty minutes away from me. The fact that we had to go to Afghanistan to meet each other still boggled my mind.

"You have questions. I can see it written all over your face. Ask away, Lizzie." She had held her silence for a while, biting her tongue, but curiosity bristled within her.

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't."

So I say, but I know it's a lie.

"What was her name?" She started easy, but I knew she'd ask how Sam died, and that was the part that killed me every time.

"Samantha Anderson, but we all called her Sam."

"How'd you guys meet?"

I smiled at the reminder of Sam's roasted chestnut hair in its tight gelled bun. She had a smile that could make the scariest of moments seem like a walk in the park. "We met on tour, actually."

"Even though she lived so close?" she asked, knowing we were headed to Meadow Creek from the sign we passed.

"Crazy, huh?" I let out a light laugh. Lizzie nodded, staring out the window as I drove. She always liked to watch the scenery fly by. "We were in the same unit but hadn't really gotten to know each other much. One day we were at a market, nothing stressful, just patrolling. I remember it was really sunny, which against Sam's paler skin, caused her to look as if she was almost glowing. I called her my angel."

"Aww, you're so cheesy." Lizzie couldn't help but tease, but I saw the immediate regret as she bit her lip, more than likely internally cursing herself.

"She said the same. But anyway, while we were at the market, there was this stray puppy who looked starved. Sam managed to coax it out of hiding, holding it in her arms. I watched as she tried to sneak it back onto base, quite comically. I am not sure what it was about the way she cradled that puppy to her chest, but it pulled me towards her like a magnetic force."

"You have a type…crazy girls," she remarked, giving me a type.

"Is that what it is?" I let out a chuckle, because it was so true. Sam's actions had reminded me of something Lizzie would do, and immediately I knew I needed to be her friend.

"Definitely."

Silence filled the car for a few minutes before Lizzie gathered the courage to ask the question I knew she was holding back on. "How did she die?"

"It was our second tour together. We were heading out, laughing and joking in the back of the humvee with the rest of our platoon. In the blink of an eye, everything changed." My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight, fighting the emotions inside of myself.

"We drove over a landmine, one we should have known about. Upon impact, we all went flying. The Humvee was unrecognizable, tires burst, windows broken, metal exploded everywhere. I busted through the rear windshield, glass and shrapnel lodged in my back and my legs. When I came to, with ringing in my ears, I searched for her, spotting her by her hair. I crawled my way towards her, unable to walk." My voice cracked as the tears built. "She was pinned under the roof of the Humvee. We both knew she wasn't going to make it. The moment someone removed the roof, she would bleed out in seconds. It had torn her open, Lizzie."

"Brian, you don't have to —" Her voice was breaking too, feeling sorry for me, but I had to finish.

"Sam held her hand out for me, told me everything she wanted me to do. Her one request for me was to not get lost in my grief. She wanted me to hold on to my goofy self, to keep smiling. I failed her on that. I watched her life fade from her eyes before I lost consciousness from my own blood loss. What kills me is if we wouldn't have kept our engagement a secret, she would have been moved to a different unit and would have never been in that Humvee with me in the first place."

Lizzie grabbed my hand over the steering wheel, squeezing it tight. We were both crying in silence, only comforted by the knowledge that we understood each other's pain. I pulled into the cemetery, finding the correct row Sam was in. Her parents came out every year on the day she was buried, but I came on the day she died.

"Want me to wait in the car?" Lizzie asked, wiping at her tears as she looked out at the headstones.

"Will you come with me? I could use the company." I had never brought anyone with me to see her. Normally, I sat all alone out here and wallowed, letting myself slip into a deep depression that I would fight off with alcohol through the night.

"Of course."

Visiting the grave of the woman I never got to marry with the woman I've loved all my life was definitely not something I thought I would ever do. Yet having Lizzie at my side was exactly what I needed as I placed the flowers over Sam's headstone.

I'm finding my way again, Sam.

Yesterday left me with a pounding headache and an aching heart, but having Lizzie at my side for most of it helped me more than she'd ever know. I was able to sleep last night, for the most part. Parking in my spot behind the shop, I found Mason getting out of his own car.

"How are you holding up?" he asked me as I stepped out of the Mustang. I had kept her in my garage for a while, unable to drive it with Lizzie in mind. Too many of our memories were tied around this mustang, torturing me any time I drove it.

"Better. Thanks. Now, how about we get back to it and pretend it never happened?" I slapped his back as I opened the back door to the shop.

"I can do that." He grabbed the hood of my jacket, pulling it over my head so far it covered my eyes.

"You're an idiot."

"I am just doing as you asked."

As much shit as I gave Mason, he was a good guy. Honestly, he had felt like a best friend to me these past few years. He smiled at me as he headed across the garage floor towards his locker. I watched the clock, already counting down the time until Lizzie arrived. She was the best part of my day, always had been. Part of me wondered what would have happened if I would have told Lyle no that day. If I would have never hung out with him.

21 Years Ago

"Hey." Lyle surprised me as he greeted me, taking the seat beside me in Ms. Johnson's chemistry class. His large physique took up more than half the table as he sprawled out.

"Can I help you?" Lyle and I had had little to no interaction at our time at Willowbrook High, leaving me cautious of his current presence.

"You're Brian, right? Liza's friend?"

"Who the hell is Liza?" It took me a few seconds to realize he was talking about Lizzie. "Do you mean Elizabeth?"

"Yeah." He smiled real bright, excited that I knew who he was referring to. "Sorry, I call her Liza."

"You know she hates that, right?"

"Wait," he sat up, his eyes big with worry, "really?"

"Yeah. She hates Liza, Beth, and Lizbeth the most."

"Shit."

I kept an eye on him as he stared at the board, suddenly very silent. I thought I was safe from this odd encounter until he turned to me again, despite Ms. Johnson up there teaching.

"Want to come hang out after school?"

I was so taken aback, all I could do was blink a million times as I met his eyes. Shaking my head, I caught Ms. Johnson's attention, impossible not to with the tall spikes on my head.

"Is everything okay, Brian?" She brought the attention of the whole class to me.

"Yup." I gave a quick raise of my brows, faking a smile at her. She eyed me for a second before continuing with her lesson.

"Why the hell would I want to come hang out with you after school? I don't even know you." I side-eyed him as I faced forward, trying to feign interest in what Ms. Johnson was saying.

"Isn't that the point? You can come over so we can get to know each other. I know you're important to Liza—Elizabeth, so I want to get to know you, too."

This conversation was so bizarre, my mind was having an extremely difficult time following, let alone trying to make a decision. Hanging out with Lyle Foster was never on my list of things to do before graduating Willowbrook High, but the fact that he was interested in Lizzie made me worry. I had to figure out what he was up to.

"Fine, but I'll meet you there. I don't want to be seen with you."

"Okay." He smiled real wide, finding no offense at my statement. "Here, give me your number and I'll text you my address."

I did as he said, handing him back his Nokia 1110, despite the fact we're not meant to have our phones on us at school. He — being him — could probably get away with bringing a pocket knife to school without question.

"Think I could pull off a mohawk?"

I couldn't help the loud laugh that escaped me at his left field question, causing Ms. Johnson to look at me again, pointing to the hall. "Hell no," I told him as I grabbed my things and headed for the principal's office. It was my home away from home, and I was sure I would spot Lizzie there, too.

Present

"Brian." Frank kept his serious expression, despite the concern in his eyes, as he stepped into my office. "I wanted to check in on you."

This was why I didn't like telling people my business. They would check on me and treat me all delicate-like when all I wanted to do was move on. Despite all that, I nodded at him, taking his show of concern as kindness.

"I am fine. Thank you for checking." I had hoped my curt answer would be enough to convey my disinterest in discussing it, but he lingered around, not wanting to leave. "Anything else you need?"

His eyes bore into mine, searching, or maybe waiting for me to show him a sincere emotion. When I didn't show him a thing, he sighed, lightly swiveling his head side to side. "You were trained too well."

He didn't try again, nor did he stick around, pivoting on his heel and leaving, giving me my peace in the solitude of my office. I liked it here, making it my sanctuary any time I needed some space from everyone.

Needing to see her face for a moment, I pulled up Sam's picture on my desktop screen. Her bright eyes, along with the warm smile that lit up her whole face, tugged at my heart. It didn't matter how many years had passed, I would always miss her. The same way I missed Lizzie when she was gone, only she wasn't dead. She had finally returned to my life.

Lizzie wouldn't be here for another thirty minutes, giving me enough time to get what was necessary done. I wanted to be available for her if she needed me. The most difficult time after losing Sam was that first year, so I knew I needed to keep an eye on her. Lizzie had always been prone to depression, swallowing her whole at times when I thought she was just fine. I discovered it in high school when I walked into her room without knocking, seeing the cuts on her inner thighs as she changed.

She and I went at it that day, yelling furiously at one another until her mom kicked me out, but after sunset, I returned through her window. We spoke until two in the morning, when I fell asleep holding her hand and showed up to school in the same clothes the next day. That started the homeless rumors and how gross I must be, but I didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that Lizzie was okay. I watched her like a hawk from then on.

Before I knew it, Lizzie was standing in the doorjamb of my office, silently watching me as she leaned against the doorway. I could always feel her eyes on me, calling out to my heart. "Hey, Lizzie. What's up?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, taking a seat in front of me, already dressed to work. "I have a question?"

I was hoping she wouldn't feel the need to check up on me, too, but I guessed wrong. "Sure, what's up?"

"How would you feel about me, maybe, driving the Mustang one day?"

My heart burst as I let out a loud chuckle, happy my Lizzie was still my Lizzie. "Hard to say."

"Oh, come on, Bry!" She slapped her hands together, leaning her elbows on my desk. "Please!"

"Soon."

"Hell, yeah!" She shot out of the seat, air fisting at her side. "Thanks!" She kissed my cheek out of nowhere before darting out to the floor and getting right to work. The action left me stunned for longer than I intended, as I just watched her work. Snapping out of my daze, I got back to it, only to have her show up again thirty minutes later.

"Brian, I am so sorry." The worry in her voice had my full attention in an instant.

"What is it?" I stood up out of my chair, making my way to her.

"It's Lil. The principal just called me."

"Want me to take you?"

With nervous eyes, she nodded her head. I knew she'd been most worried about the kids after Lyle's death, and with the move, it only intensified the feeling. But we'd been to the principal a million times when we were Lil's age, so surely it couldn't be that bad.