“Why do you think?” She asked.
“You wanted to do something for the community.”
“And?”
“You wanted to honor my mom.”
“I’d finished teaching. I’d taught for 25 years, and I was done. Tired. That happens when you work at the same place for too long. I wanted something new and fresh, and starting a bakery seemed...well, honestly, it seemed simple.”
She laughed.
“I’m guessing it wasn’t as simple as it seemed?”
“Not at all,” she shook her head. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, honey.”
“But you don’t regret it.”
“Nope. Not at all.”
I thought about what she’d said. I thought about all of it: all of the information we’d both shared. How would my life have been different if I’d had this sort of talk years ago?
I didn’t know, really, but I was faced with a choice. Was I going to let the past dictate my future? Or was I going to go crazy? Was I going to jump right in to what the world was offering me?
“Cooper asked me on a date,” I told my aunt.
“What did you say?”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
She shrugged.
Oh, Aunt Hannah. Had she been playing matchmaker? I wanted to ask her, but Aunt Hannah wasn’t going to give away all of her secrets on the first try. Besides, a good magician never revealed her secrets, right?
“He asked me out for dinner,” I said. “And I accepted.”
“Do you know what you’re going to wear?” She asked.
“Nope.”
“Are you feeling excited?”
“Yep.”
“Do you think you might throw up?”
“A little.”
Hannah laughed and leaned back.
“Honey, you’re worried now, and I get that, but I have something to promise you.”
“What is it?”
“No matter what happens,” she said. “Everything is going to be okay.”
6.
Cooper
A DATE.
It had been a wild idea, to be sure. I still wasn’t sure whether it was a good choice or a horrible choice. Taking Cordelia on a date was something I’d fantasized about for a million years, but I’d never had the guts to actually do.
What could someone as wonderful as her possibly see in someone like me? After all, I’d messed with her head. It hadn’t been on purpose, but still, I’d done it.
The truth was that I’d never known what exactly had happened with Cordelia. The two of us had been friends who bickered and fought, but at some point, she had started to just despise me. Had it been when she became friends with Larissa? Had it been when we started to grow apart in middle school? I’d never really been certain. Now I knew it had to do with the rumors she’d thought that I started.
What I had known back then was that I wanted a chance to spend more time with her. The prom had seemed like the perfect choice. I was 17, and I was an idiot. I should have known better than to go for Larissa’s brother’s “please help me out” plan. I should have known it was some sort of trick.
But I hadn’t.
And I’d paid the price.
I wanted to punch a wall. How could I not have known the lies that Larissa continued to spread after high school? How could I really not have known? When I’d come home for visits during college, she’d always tried to get together and hang out, and I’d never wanted to. I was glad for that. If I had, it would have reinforced her lies to the rest of the school.
Instead of going directly home after meeting with Cordelia, I drove by my dad’s place. He still lived in a cute little two-story house on South Maple Avenue. It was a little old, but not run-down. My dad took pride in what he did, and even though he’d never had a lot of money, he made a point to make sure that the house always, always looked nice.
I didn’t bother knocking on the door. Instead, I just waltzed right into the house and headed for the kitchen. James and my dad were both sitting at the kitchen table. Dad was eating a turkey sandwich and James was reading a book.
“Why hello,” my dad said, setting his sandwich down. “Coop, I wasn’t expecting you.” He had the look on his face that said he was worried he’d forgotten he was supposed to meet with me.
“It’s okay, Dad,” I said. “You don’t have to stop eating. I’m actually here to talk to James.”
“Me?” James looked up from his book. “What did I do?”
“I need to ask you something,” I said.
James seemed like he could sense the urgency in my words because he set his book down and nodded.
“Anything,” he said.
“Do you remember my senior year of high school?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said. “I remember.”
“Do you remember a guy taking you to appointments and stuff?”
“You mean Keith?” He asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh yeah, I remember all right.” He shook his head. “I hated that guy.”
Wait, what?
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“He was a dick,” James shrugged, as though that settled the whole thing.
“What do you mean? I thought he was nice to you.”
“He was nice to you,” James corrected me. “Everyone else hated him and his sister. They were both assholes.”
“What did I miss?” I asked.
“Have a seat,” James gestured to the kitchen table. I sat down across from my brother. Our kitchen table only had two chairs: one for dad, and one for me. James sat in a wheelchair, as he had for as long as I could remember. My brother could no longer walk, and the wheelchair gave him mobility when it came to getting around the house and even getting out into town. He didn’t let his chair keep him at home.
I looked at my brother. Even now, at 25, he was incredible. I’d always sort of looked after him. With our parents both working, I’d done my best to help them out by taking James to his doctor’s appointments and to see his physical therapist. When I couldn’t make it, Keith had helped me out. At least, I thought he’d helped him out.
“I hated that guy,” James said bluntly.
My dad ate his sandwich slowly, watching us. My dad was a quiet sort of guy who lived a quiet sort of life. He loved us both dearly, but he wasn’t exactly known for being aggressive or confrontational. I wondered if he’d known how much James hated Keith.
“Tell me why.”
“He was cruel.”
“How?”
“He was always making fun of me, man,” James said. “He called me all sorts of shitty names when you weren’t around. Oh, and when you were around, he acted like he was the big brother I’d been missing.”
That one stung, and I swallowed hard, trying not to freak out about what I was hearing. How naïve had I been in high school? I knew perfectly well that kids could be terrible to each other. I had plenty of bullies at the school where I worked. It was my job to keep them under control and to keep them from hurting each other too badly.
Now I was learning that my own brother had been bullied, and I’d had no idea.