My brother's best friend

Chapter nine

It was Taylor who found me on the lawn a few hours later. By the time she found me I was just laying there looking up at the sky. I watched as clouds morphed into bunnies and dragons and houses.

Taylor sits down next to me, "What are you doing?" I contemplate her question for a second then decide to ignore her question, "Did you know my parents were on their way to come see the night they died?"

There's a brief silence. "No." I bite my lip. "They were driving down to my dorm to speak to me." Taylor is silent. She knows from experience not to interrupt me. We have been best friends since we were born. For a second my lips pulled into a smile as a memory of Taylor and I playing together as little girls enter my mind.

The smile fades. "They came to see me because I told them I was engaged." I turned my head to look at Taylor. "You can say something you know." A smile comes to her lips, "You're engaged?"

"I was before dad pulled all that crap about asking for my hand before the engagement." We're both caught off guard by my word choice. "I told him that I am not property and said we'd get married on our own without them."

I look away from Taylor, afraid of her judging gaze. I've always loved my father. Truth be told I did always picture the man I love asking my father for my hand. But that was when I was 7 and didn't know any better.

"I guess they came after me to stop a Vegas wedding or to apologize." My eyes burn at the thought of them thinking I'd leave them behind. I can still see the pain on mom's face when I told them I'd do it alone.

"After we left, Leo broke off the engagement. And I haven't talked to him in quite some time." These last parts don't seem to make me as sad as the others did. How could I have said those things to them? They were only looking out for me. How could I have missed that?

"They were just trying to take care of me," I mumble. I didn't think Taylor heard me but she did, "Maybe that's what Daniel was also trying to do?" I frown, "Daniel?"

"Yes, my brother? The one who confessed to having kept some of the details of the crash hidden that might have hurt you?" She sounds a bit irritated. I sit up to be eye level with her. "Do you think so?" Taylor shrugs, "I believe so, but if you don't believe there's no point in me telling you this." After a brief pause she goes on, "I certainly don't think it's worth being angry at him for more than two days."

She takes my hand, "Linds, you need to hold on to small things like hope, trust and love. No matter how small they might be. You need to hold on to them." She squeezes my hand, "I'll send Daniel over in a while, you can apologize and have dinner." She lets go and gets up. A small smile is on her lips, "It's good to see you out of your room, Linds. It's a crime to keep someone like you locked up all the time."

She starts walking away but turns back around, "Maybe you should come to my birthday bash. It's this Saturday. Bring your bikini." She winks before leaving. There's no way to get out of this now. Once she's winked it means she's watching you.

I guess it's better than to curl up into a ball and crying. Maybe they had a point? Maybe I had to keep moving forward. I get up and head into the house. It was quiet. Will was still away and Levi was still at school. Not that he comes home, he goes to the Greene's. I guess it's better that way. And I guess he was in Dwayne and Amanda's care.

I go upstairs and open the study. A faint smell of tobacco is still lingering in the room. I step inside and it's like I've never seen the room or it's contents before.

There are diplomas and certificates along the one wall. The other is decorated with two of the paintings mom painted long before she becomes a mother. I guess it was a reminder of who they had been before they had kids. The wall behind the desk is halfway stacked with books. The other half has pictures hanging, all different shapes and sizes. I walk over to the books and let my fingers slide over the different covers. I come to a stop at the pictures.

The first few are of mom and dad, maybe they're my age? The next few are pictures of their engagement party followed by a few wedding photos. Mom looked beautiful in her white lace dress. The next photos are of her with Will, first a baby then a toddler- her stomach already growing again. Then it's her, Will and a baby me. We all grow older and finally a picture of baby Levi among the rest of us. At the end of the wall, there's a large family photo we took a few years back. We're all dressed in blue and white. We look so happy.

I turn away from the picture and sit down on the large leather chair at the desk. On the table, there are two more pictures. One of Will, Levi and myself. The other is a very recent picture of my parents. They almost look as happy as they did in the first few pictures.

I reach for the photo and in the process, I knock over the pencil holder. The pens and pencils scattered all over the table and down to the ground.

I start picking up the pens when my eye catches something etched into the table. I frown. It wasn't like dad to make markings on things. He always got mad when he saw it on tables and chairs in public.

There in the wood of the desk, carved out, the words read, Don't look back, move on. I wonder why he would have done this? It must have been a motto or something he didn't want to forget. It can easily be seen when the pencil holder is gone. He must have put the pencil holder there to hide it. But why?

I have a vague memory of a time when mom and dad whispered a lot. The conversation would stop when I would enter the room or any of us for that matter. A crumpled up bank statement flashes in my mind. Dad sitting at his desk, hands in hair, day after day. He must have engraved this here when they were going through a hard time.

My fingers trace the letters absentmindedly. Don't look back, move on. I repeat the words over and over again. It was time to move on. It was time to start living again. It was time to do what I loved and it was time for me to get back to my life. My life will never be as it was, but I can try to get something similar. And I can't do it by locking myself in my room.

Don't look back, move on.

That's what I'll do.