“Current, future. You know it’s a given. I mean, come on. You’re being courted by every damn Alpha, Beta, Chi, Delta on campus!”
“Like you’re not.” I rolled my eyes. My roommate’s combination of ice-blue eyes and black hair was startling in a pixie face. Right now, her full lips were in a pout. “All right! I give in. We’ll go!”
Sula’s smile spread across her face as she tackled me to my bed. “We’re going to have such an unforgettable time!”
“We’re going to be lucky not to get thrown out.” I laughed.
I shake myself from my reverie. That night was certainly unforgettable as it set off a chain of events that changed the course of my life forever.
I only wish we had been thrown out.
Four
Ward
Last night, more than one star was spotted catching Erzulie playing at Terminal 5. According to the manager, her powerful voice blew the doors off the place with her ability to switch seamlessly between the highest soprano and the lowest alto ranges. Broadway cast members from Queen of the Stars sang along from their prime spots by the stage. “Moments like that can never be matched. I think even Erzulie was in awe,” one concertgoer was overheard to say.
We happen to agree.
— The Fallen Curtain
My kingdom to escape my pain.
I’d trade anything, my car, my condo in Tribeca, including and especially every damn dollar to my name, if I could escape the damn farce of perfection that makes up my life and if there was any—any—way I could go back in time. Just once. I’d dump everything and sleep in a cardboard box without a single moment of hesitation.
I’d hold her tighter to me. I’d grip his hand.
I’d do anything to never let them go. Never to come home from a stupid-ass party to find them both gone. Dead. I was left with something so completely worthless when compared to my parents’ love.
Money.
And still, the more largess I’m granted, the more their blood oozes from wounds that have never closed. Not in ten years. Not ever. To me, it’s pretty straightforward: it’s their blood money. And the life I have that’s based upon it? What right do I have to enjoy it? To cherish it?
Little arms reach up and pound my thigh before demanding, “Again!”
“Of course, my liege.” I bow to my two-year-old nephew before I swoop him around in a circle.
He chortles loudly in my ear.
Innocence. I wish I could find my way back to it.
Despite the years, and my often careless callousness, Carys has never given up on me. She’s all about the most critical bonds of family: love, loyalty, and friendship. Not like Carys would have let me, I think wryly. Once she sets her heart on loving someone, they don’t stand a chance. Just look at what happened when she decided David’s time was up. My smile spreads as their son starts using me as his personal drum kit.
My personal nightmare led to my sister’s dream. It doesn’t completely mitigate what happened, but it helps knowing the worst kind of failure had the best outcome. Still, I can’t reconcile finding happiness when the two people who gave us everything are gone.
Because of me.
I place Ben back down at his table and chairs. “Listen to me, Ben. Don’t be afraid of living, of showing people how much you love them. It’s important to do that every single chance you get. It doesn’t matter if your buddies think it’s cool.”
He tilts his head, intent on the sound of my voice.
“I get it. You’re going to need to experience everything in life. Do it. Savor it. Don’t let a single moment pass you by without trying new things. But remember, every moment with family is precious. Especially ours.”
Ben blinks back at me without saying a word. Then he slams his fist down on the table in front of him in frustration.
“I get it, buddy. It’s not fair that you have to wait to do all of the things you want to do, but you’re lucky.”
He frowns in confusion.
“You have two amazing parents who love you. I…love you. And none of that will ever change. You’ll never have to worry about growing up hungry or cold. There are so many out there your age who don’t have what you do.”
He nods, totally getting it. I squat down so we’re talking man to man. I love these times when my nephew and I get private time and I can share the most important lessons I’ve learned with him.
“It’s important to be a good man—someone your family can rely on. You don’t want to earn a reputation as just the clown or as a jock, you know? I mean, it’s good to be both athletic and funny, but they shouldn’t define you.”
Ben gurgles and lurches forward until he can wrap his arms around my neck. Even though his face is entirely David’s, his coloring is just like mine and my father’s. The minute he was born and was put into my arms, little Benjamin Burke Lennan found the crack to start the blood flowing to my waste of a heart again.
He gives me a smile with tiny little teeth right before whacking me in the head with his airplane. I’m just grateful this one’s made out of foam and not the wood one he used the last time we had a chat. “Listen, kid. And don’t let Mom and Dad talk you out of occasionally spoiling yourself if you work hard. If you become a pilot, celebrate. Buy the airplane. Life’s too short. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t cost all that much.”
“Life lessons from Uncle Ward should be committed to memory, sweet baby boy.” Carys’s amused voice startles me. But my smile when I look at her delicate stature is automatic. Then I scowl when she adds, “Then you should check with Momma before you do anything rash like wasteful spending.”
Ben abandons me for my sister posthaste, shouting, “Momma, Momma!” as he trudges off on his still-chunky toddler legs.
She leans down, picks him up, and balances him on one hip. “An airplane, Ward? Really? You were doing really well up until then.”
I shrug before getting to my feet in my nephew’s playroom, careful not to crush any of the toys we’ve left scattered around. “Come on, Carrie. It’s not like he’s going to remember.”
She narrows her aqua eyes at me. “Do you have any memories of Mom and Dad from when you were Ben’s age?”
My sister can’t understand the savage pain her simple question causes. It’s been thirteen years since the drunk driver ran the light that killed our parents, but for me, every day I live with the fact that if I hadn’t been such a selfish bastard intent on impressing the guys, maybe they’d be here spoiling their grandson instead of me.
Due to Carys’s insistence back then, I spoke with some of the best psychologists. I’ve openly expressed my feelings of overwhelming guilt since the moment the officers left this very condo the night they came to inform us of their death. And I’ve moved on from my adolescent psychologist to the one I visited during college, then law school. Until I managed to find a balance in my life.
For the most part.
There are still moments like these where I stare down into Carys’s eyes after being scolded for something amusing where I’m transported back to those moments with my mother before I called the guys to tell them I could make the party the night of my seventeenth birthday.