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Chapter Five


Kevin

I’d heard Nick get up and followed him down the stairs, but halfway down the steps, Caroline had come in and I’d stopped, not wanting to face her, my heart racing as I stood midway down. She hadn’t seen me and I’d eventually sat down and given myself a pep talk. I had to face her, if not now then later, and at least now, I told myself, I’d have the buffer of Nick sitting there to keep things from going to awkward places I wasn’t ready to go to just yet. So I’d walked out in the direction of the kitchen just in time to hear Nick just about to go into those awkward places himself. So I’d hurried up behind him and smacked his back just a little too hard to be a legitimate greeting and cut him off before he could say that he’d run away from his wedding.

That was a can of worms that didn’t need spilling just yet.

Caroline was staring at me, her hands frozen in the middle of the process of chopping celery for chicken salad. Her eyes were strangely wide, like an animal caught in the headlights of a moving vehicle. I kind of wished she wasn’t holding a knife, though. I mean, sure it’d been twenty-somethin’ years but Lord knows how angry she still was about my escape? Them Kentucky girls are spitfires. She could probably gut me faster than I could say I’m sorry.

We were all still in the silence for a couple beats longer than was naturally comfortable.

It was Caroline and her knife that made the first move. She brought her wrist down through the rest of the chop she was midway through when I’d walked in, and she wiped the edges of the knife on the cutting board to get stray celery bits off it, then laid it on the counter.

“Do you want a sandwich?” she asked me. “I’m making Nick and myself one.”

“Sure,” I answered.

Caroline lifted the little board and pushed the celery into the bowl with the chicken, mayo, chopped almonds, and dried cranberries she’d already assembled. She started mixing them all up, staring down into the bowl like she had to concentrate really hard. I felt like she was avoiding meeting my eyes, which was basically what I was doing, too. Which is how I noticed Nick was sitting there watching her breasts sway as she stirred.

I kicked his leg, making him lose his balance and look up at me sheepishly because he knew he’d gotten caught staring at her chest.

The awkwardness continued. She smeared the salad between slices of bread and put the sandwiches on paper plates with a handful of onion and sour cream Pringles. We all stayed there around the counter with glasses of sweet tea and the sandwiches and chips, actively trying to not look at each other for various reasons, eating.

I was starting to feel like maybe coming back to the camp was a bad idea. So far, not much had gone right, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe I had acted more selfishly than I’d meant to. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea for Nick, and it’d really been for me with Nick as an excuse, and maybe it wasn’t even the best idea for me and all this coincidental running into Caroline stuff had been like punishment from the cosmic overlord for my selfishness.

Selfish bastard, the Kristin of my mind accused me again.

Again, I pushed her out of my head.

“So.” Caroline’s voice cut through the smog in my head, “How long are y’all planning to stay at the camp?” She studied her sandwich as she spoke, careful not to even accidentally catch my eyes.

“We aren’t really sure,” I replied, “Just until things calm down.”

Caroline pulled the crusts off her sandwich. “What’s going on exactly?”

Nick suddenly spoke up, his voice nervously spilling over itself, “Paparazzi are assholes. They won’t leave us alone. You shouldda saw in the hotel, like I was tryin’a sleep, and Kevin’s like lookin’ out the window, y’know, and he’s like ‘they’re all out in the street’, like ‘cos they wouldn’t all fit in the lobby of the hotel we was at after we left the weddin’, and it wasn’t even a little lobby, it was a big lobby, y’know? It was like a good sized lobby and --”

“Wait,” Caroline injected, her eyebrows raising together sharply. She looked up at me, then pointed between Nick and I, “Are you two… together?” she sounded shocked.

I promptly choked on the mouthful of sandwich I was swallowing.

“Fuck no!” Nick practically shouted, his face contorted into a look of pure disgust. Like literally the guy probably couldn’t have looked more disgusted by the idea of him being together with a damn octopus the way he looked.

Caroline, however, looked both relieved and disappointed at the same time.

“Dude you oughtta know this guy’s straight, y’all dated, didn’t you?” Nick asked, “Kev said y’all dated in high school.”

Caroline nodded, her eye still on me, like she hadn’t torn them away from the moment of surprise and now she didn’t know how not to look at me. I kept my eyes averted still. “A lot can change in twenty-two years,” she said. “And it would’ve explained some things,” she added pointedly.

I felt my face grow hot.

Nick’s eyebrows shot up with interest.

“So anyways, what did the paparazzi want?” Caroline asked, changing the subject.

“To know the rest of the story that goes with that comment,” Nick said eagerly.

I kicked his leg again.

“Ow,” Nick whined. He kicked me back. Little shit. I kicked him back again. Harder.

“Oh I’m sure they would love to hear that story,” Caroline replied, nodding. I swear my face couldn’t possibly turn more red. “What were they actually after, though?”

I opened my mouth to give her some bullshit answer, but before I could Nick busted out with, “Because I ran away from my wedding and they wanted to know why.” He sounded like a little kid saying he wasn’t gonna get presents from Santa Claus this year because he’d been bad.

I struggled to keep my eyes from meeting Caroline’s, but I could feel her staring at me.

“He wasn’t ready,” I mumbled. And the excuse was just as much for Nick as it was for me, twenty-two years belated.

“Oh,” Caroline said. “Well. I hope you at least told your fiance yourself why it wasn’t happening.”

I felt my stomach twist.

Nick’s face turned even redder. “Well. I dunno. I mean, I dunno if she’d even wanna hear from me at all after what I’ve done.”

“She does,” Caroline said with authority. “She wants to hear at least that much from you. She’s probably been waiting since you walked away to hear it from you.” She stared at me sharply.

“Yeah?” Nick looked at Caroline eager, not even noticing at all the meaningful glare she was giving me. She crumpled her napkin, her eyes never moving from me, and she threw the paper plate she’d been using in the trash, then set her glass in the sink. “How do you know?” he asked her.

Caroline shrugged, “Maybe it’s a girl thing,” she replied, “But also, I’ve been there.”

Nick glanced at me.

My face grew hotter than ever.

“Anyways, I gotta get back out to the field, I’ve got to get those stables mucked out.” And before either Nick or I could even say a word she’d rushed out of the kitchen and I heard the door close behind her.

I tossed my empty paper plate in the trash, too, and busied myself cleaning out the two glasses in the sink. I wasn’t ready for Nick to be asking questions about Caroline and I. I’d spent the last twenty years actively not telling the other fellas. Well, I mean, of course Brian knew, he’d been there, but the other fellas… and even Brian’s knowledge was limited on the topic. Only Kristin really knew what happened that day....

And here it was, I thought, all that hard work keeping the secret, coming down to this.

How would I tell him? I wondered, mentally preparing myself, like I was Rocky Balboa or something. I started forming words and sentences and emotion, piecing the truth together in a way that I only could pray he’d understand and not judge me for. And when I couldn’t avoid it any longer, I took a deep breath and turned around to face him with my story.

But Nick wasn’t staring at me anymore. He was staring at his cell phone, which he’d laid on the counter in front of him. He looked up when he realized I’d turned around.

“Should I text her, you think? Tell her why?” he asked.

I put down the cloth I’d used to dry the glasses I’d spent the last five minutes cleaning while I thought up the answer to questions he wasn’t about to ask. I wasn’t prepared for this question. I took a deep breath.

“I don’t think it would hurt,” I said slowly. This was the part I wasn’t an expert on. The reaching out part. The making old wounds better part. I’d only done the running away, I’d never tried to make things right. And as a result, I had this crazy situation on my hands and no advice for him in the area where he really needed it now.

He stared down at the phone again and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully.

I turned back around and put the glasses into the cupboard, allowing Nick some time to think without me staring at him.

I pulled open the cupboards and the fridge to see what the food situation was like. They were minimally stocked with various single-serve foods and I realized we needed to get some more stuff so we didn’t eat all Caroline’s food. I turned back to Nick, “We need to do some grocery shopping,” I said.

He was still staring at his phone. He looked up, “Okay.”

“Maybe the ride will help you think what you want to say to her?” I suggested. Then, the only advice I knew was sound enough to give to him at the moment, “A ride always helped me think around here.”

Nick nodded. “Okay.”

So I went upstairs and changed my shirt - Nick insisted he was fine in the one he had on already - and we headed out to the porch. I hesitated by the rental car when I spotted Caroline just outside of the barn with a wheelbarrow. I sighed as Nick climbed into the car. “Let me see if Caroline wants us to pick up anything,” I said.

Nick had his phone back out, “Okay.”

I jogged across the yard to the barn. She was shoveling some clean straw through the gap in the fence into a troft on the other side. The dust from the hay had risen up in the air, giving it the warm smell I usually associated with laying in the rafters of the barn. And suddenly I was overcome by this memory of sophomore year when we’d skipped school and snuck up into those rafters and spent the day stealing kisses and talking about movies and our future dreams. You shouldda known then I wasn’t stayin’ in Irvine, I thought. I’d told her then I didn’t dream of an Irvine life.

Caroline looked up in surprise as I came to a stop beside her. “What?” she asked without prelude.

“We’re going to the store, you need anything?” I asked.

Caroline shook her head.

“Alright. I just wanted to make sure before we left,” I said.

“Thanks,” she replied. “I appreciate the… effort.” She turned back to shoveling the straw into the troft.

I hesitated. I looked back at the car. Nick was sitting there, waiting patiently, watching me instead of his phone now. “Do you really think he should tell her?” I asked Caroline.

She stopped shovelling. “Yeah,” she answered, “He should. ‘Cos she’s just gonna wait all her life until she gets the answer.”

I nodded.

“She deserves to know,” Caroline added.

My throat was dry. I knew we weren’t really talking about Nick and Lauren, but I couldn’t bring myself to give her an answer just yet. “You really think it’s a text message kind of conversation, though?”

“Anything is better than nothing,” Caroline replied.

“I left a note,” I whispered.

Caroline stared at me for a long moment, then she recited, “Dear Caroline, I’m sorry. I can’t stay where my heart doesn’t belong. Kevin.” Her voice was a monotone. She shook her head, “That counts for nothing.” And she turned back to the straw.

My throat ached. I’d convinced myself over the years that I’d done an okay job explaining myself in the note. That I’d said everything I could say to her, that she’d understood and I’d always pictured her reading it and, even though she’d been heartbroken, maybe understanding why I’d left and being able to compartmentalize the horrible ending the way horrible endings are wrapped up nice and neat in fairy tales and movies. But I’d given her nothing, she was right. She’d memorized the nothing I’d given her, carried it in her heart for twenty-two years.

My voice shook. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

“Whenever,” she replied, “I have work to do.” She was cold shouldering me.

I couldn’t blame her.

I jogged away.

It was becoming a trend. Me running away from Caroline.

In the car, Nick asked, “She need anything?”

“Not from the store,” I replied.




At Kroger, Nick grabbed a cart and leaned against the handle as we walked, his phone sitting in the child seat up top. We filled the cart pretty quickly with stuff - Nick grabbing things like kale and seaweed crisps and me things like steaks and shake n’ bake packs. A lot of people gave double takes when we walked by, many of them people I recognized from when I’d lived there twenty-two years ago, but some of them were younger or new faces altogether. None of them stopped us either way and I wasn’t sure if I was unnerved or relieved by the lack of acknowledgement. Nick didn’t seem to notice they were noticing us at all, he was too caught up in his own head, and in making decisions like whether he wanted chili lime wheat thins or lightly salted pretzels for the red pepper hummus he’d gotten.

In fact, Nick remained basically oblivious of our surroundings until we got to the check-out, where the tabloid magazines filled the endcap next to the candy. Junk next to the junk food, I’d always thought.

But one of the tabloids featured a huge picture of Lauren, her make-up ruined by tears out front of the church, staring after our getaway car. The headline Backstreet Boy Leaves Behind Broken Hearted Bride was emblazoned over her.

Nick picked up the magazine and stared at the picture, wide-eyed. He looked at me. I could see the same sort of panic in his eyes as I’d seen at the church just before we left.

“You know how those rags exaggerate things,” I said.

Nick’s eyes returned to the cover. “They can’t exaggerate a picture,” he said.

I thought about saying something about Photoshop, but I held my tongue and started loading our crap onto the belt for the cashier to ring up because we were already next in line. Nick put the magazine up and started helping me, but his movements were slow and when I looked at his face I knew the picture wasn’t going to leave his mind very easily.

“Kevin Richardson.”

I looked up. The cashier was an old woman, and it took me a moment to squint through the years and recognize her as a teacher at the high school last time I’d seen her. She’d taught history class my senior year. “Mrs. Kendall,” I said.

“What are you doing here? Visiting your momma?” she smiled as she swept the items Nick and I had selected across the check out and put them into bags. Nick was leaning against the cart still, watching the exchange.

“Just taking a little break from California,” I replied.

She glanced at Nick and I saw her eyes shift toward the tabloids then back to him, like she was putting the pieces together. She turned back to me. “Have you seen Caroline Watson?” she asked, “I hear she’s working for your momma up at the cabins your daddy owned.”

I nodded, “Nick and I are staying at the cabins, actually.”

“Oh, with Caroline then?” she asked.

I didn’t know how to answer that. I could imagine the rumors that either confirming or denying that could start, so I changed the topic, pointing at the frozen pizzas she’d just dragged across the scanner, “Can you bag those separately so I can lay’em flat in the car, so the toppings don’t go sliding off?”

“Of course,” she replied, and she bagged them and handed them to me with a knowing smile.




“I texted her,” Nick said after a few minutes of being in the car on the way back to the camp.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Alls I said was I’m sorry, but I figured that was better than nothin’ ‘til I can think of somethin’ better to say.”

I nodded. “That’s a good start,” I replied.




When we got back to the camp, I didn’t see Caroline anywhere. And she didn’t show up later, either. We cooked the steaks I’d gotten at the store and Nick and I sat in the living room at the coffee table, watching a game on the TV. Whenever Caroline came inside, she must’ve floated by like a ghost because I never saw her come or go, I only knew she’d come in at all because when we finally retired for the evening the light under Jerald’s bedroom door glowed on the carpet at the bottom jam.

In the hallway, Nick hesitated at the bedroom door and just as I was about to step into my room, he said, “Kev?” I looked over at him. “Thanks for helping me.”

My heart felt like it was expanding in my chest, Grinch style. In all the years I’d spent trying to guide Nick through life, this was the first time he’d thanked me for helping him. I felt warm and fuzzy all over by this sudden gratitude from him. But a little voice in my mind asked quietly, Are you really helping him, though? Helping him to run away, just like you did? I pushed it out of my head.

“You’re a good friend to me, man,” Nick added.

“You’re a good friend, too, Nick,” I replied.

He smiled and went in the room.

I stood at the door a long moment, staring at the light under the jam of Caroline’s room. Part of me wanted to walk down the hallway, knock on the door, and tell her everything. But another part of me, the unfortunately bigger part of me, was too chicken shit, and instead I ducked into my room and closed the door behind me.

I sat down on the chair by my old desk where I’d done a million homework assignments over the years and untied my sneakers’ shoelaces, dropping them to the floor. I changed into my sweats and a t-shirt and climbed into bed, but before I shut out the light, I grabbed my cell phone. If Caroline was right about this whole anything was better than nothing thing, then it wasn’t just the past that it applied to, I thought. It would apply to the present, too.

So I typed a text to Kristin.

Good night, I miss you.

I fell asleep waiting for a response that didn’t come.