Famous musician, Cory Hartley, has plans to end his own life. When rekindling an old flame that never died, Cory finds himself at a crossroads, as he copes with the traumatic death of his best friend. Forced to face the past that's haunted him for a...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
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Cory had stopped off at the liquor store, purchasing several pints of bourbon along with a dozen 90 proof nips.
He started back to Alida's house before realizing he was out of cigarettes. Cursing profanities at his own stupidity, Cory made a U-turn, avoiding the I-84 intersection light by the bypass on the outskirts of South Fallsburg.
Cory whipped his rental Aston Martin Vantage in front of the pumps. He climbed out, slamming the door before he strode into the old familiar store that had clearly undergone a face lift in his absence.
He kept his eyes on the dingy vinyl plank flooring beneath his feet, avoiding any eye contact from the people in line before him—in fear of being recognized by someone from his past. Cory was infamous nearly everywhere he went, but especially at home.
"Cory—Cory Hartley?" A voice spoke from behind.
Cory closed his eyes tightly, wishing to disappear. He swallowed hard, putting on a brave face as he turned to the sound of his name.
He smiled reluctantly, recognizing the familiar man. "Hagen?" Cory spoke in the form of a question; his eyes narrowed suspiciously with a partial smile, knowing in fact that the man beside him was indeed, Hagen Snyder.
"Yeah man, how you been? What are you doing back here?" Hagen beamed with excitement, seemingly thrilled to see his old friend again.
Cory was bewildered by Hagen's enthusiasm. He figured that everyone hated him after what happened. "I honestly couldn't tell you." Cory laughed nervously, scratching the side of his neck.
"Well it's good to see you. God, I haven't seen you in, what—ten years? Congratulations on your success. You and Aidan always said you guys would make it." Hagen smacked Cory's arm, showcasing how proud he was.
Cory, on the other hand, couldn't have been more ashamed. Stopping himself from thinking too much about Aidan, Cory changed topics.
"What are you doin now?" Cory asked.
"Oh nothing worth talking about. I work down at the Warehouse. It's Monday through Thursday. I just stock and unload shit, nothing interesting. You remember Katie—Katie Marsh?"
Cory nodded, thankful that the line was moving. "Redhead?"
"Yeah," Hagen chuckled, "We've been married three years now."
"I'm happy for you." Cory smiled half heartedly, not particularly interested in Hagen's love life.
"Yeah, we were talking about how some of us ended up marrying the people we grew up with, and Katie started talking about you and Alida." Cory's face fell at the sound her name—at the sound of her name being used with his. "It's just funny because I wasn't the only one that thought you and Alida would end up together."
Cory's stomach dropped; that sickening sensation of losing control came crashing down inside of him like hot rocks. He felt the heat creeping up the sides of his neck, covering his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip.
Cory didn't want Hagen knowing that Alida had been the reason for his return—that he planned to lay his soul bare before killing it.
"What's she been up to these days?" Cory decided to play things aloof—pulling out the ignorance card.
"She's good—I think. It's been a few months since I ran into her, but she seemed alright. She flips houses now. She's actually pretty good at it. She just bought that one off Maple—you know the one that had that eroded wraparound porch? She's fixing that one up now."
"Oh yeah?"
"Her daughter's kinda weird though." Hagen chuckled, "She's a pretty little girl—smart. But like... Rain Man, smart."
Cory's heart palpitated—Zora was Alida's daughter. The answer should've been obvious, she was living with her. For some reason, however, Cory couldn't imagine Alida with a child; instead, he theorized that she had been a neighborhood kid or that Alida was just babysitting.
"Is she married?"
"Alida? No. I doubt she'll ever get married, not until her kid's outta the house. Shaun, a guy I work with, dated her for awhile. He said that after a few dates, he got to meet her daughter. He said she was weird—kept asking questions and every time he gave an answer she would correct it. Alida broke it off; she said it wasn't gonna work out. Honestly, I think the guy just felt stupid. He got outwitted by a little girl and was too embarrassed to get one upped again."
Cory tried holding back his laugh, but ultimately failed. "She must be a Daddy's girl then."
"Nope—nobody knows who the father is. I don't even think Alida knows for sure."
Cory's brows meshed confusingly, questioning everything he thought he knew. Alida wasn't the type—at least, Cory hadn't thought she was. "What's that mean?" Cory asked, wondering if Alida had gone through a wild streak following Aidan's death—or followed by him leaving.
"Her and Gretchen took off around the same time you did. When they came back, Alida was pregnant." Hagen shrugged, as if the revelation was old news. Of course it would be to Hagen, but to Cory, it was a shock.
"So she's been doing it alone? Supporting herself and raising a kid?" Cory spoke baffled; he wasn't shocked that Alida could do it all, he was saddened that she had to.
"She's got SusaBeth and Brian. Oh, and Gretchen—you remember Gretchen, right?"
"Yeah." Cory laughed through his nose; how could he forget the annoying, incessantly talkative best friend of Alida Moore?
"You dodged a bullet with her though, really. Everything worked out for the better."
If that were true, why didn't Cory feel that way? The only reason he had come back was to say goodbye—to atone for his wrongdoings before he could let himself do the unspeakable—before signing off indefinitely into the unknown.
Before he knew it, Cory was at the counter—the next customer at the register. "I'll take a carton of American Spirits. Turquoise... please." Cory reached for his wallet, pulling out his American Express card. He purchased his cigarettes as quickly as possible; the burning yearn for a stiff drink was not only calling his name, but was also thickening the back of his throat. Cory grabbed the carton of American Spirits, ignoring the cashier handing him his receipt. "It was good seeing you again—take care."
"You too, don't be a stranger. You should come around more often, reminisce on old times." Hagen gleamed with genuine excitement.
Cory made himself return the gesture, but was unable to match his jovial enthusiasm. "Take care." Cory repeated, walking back to the car as fast as he could without it being obvious that he was running away.
