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My eyes bounce from my phone screen at Brooks’ text, to the employee entrance. I’m not even sure why I keep looking at it; the words are burned into my memory. “I’m sorry for everything. I will never stop loving you.” I suppose that seeing the words gives me the push I need to remain here waiting for Raymond; they keep me from chickening out.
Last night Campbell made me realize how in love with Brooks I am, and that our co
The first step, though, is confronting Raymond, and finding out the actual truth about what happened between him and my father. I can’t go to Brooks until I make peace with that situation for myself first. I know that I can’t just show up to his residence without prior approval, and him riding in my car would also be against the rules, so I plan to follow him and sit next to him on the bus. That gives me at least an hour to talk to him. That’s pretty much as far as I got in the pla
When Raymond walks out the doors, he looks tired and haggard, not only from a hard day’s work, but I’m sure from a rough life in general. I can see his breath in the cool air, and he zips up his jacket, throwing the hood over his head to shield himself from the gusty frozen winds. He begins to walk towards the park and ride area, so I quickly grab my purse and tighten my scarf before jumping out of the car.
I shiver from the cold temperatures for a moment before the adrenaline takes over. I take off in the direction that Raymond is walking, making sure to stay at a safe distance. I don’t want him to notice me before we get on the bus. If he has the chance to run from me, I’m afraid he will.
My pace quickens from the anticipation, and I have to remind myself to slow down. I struggle to catch my breath as I get in line to buy a bus pass. Note to self: work a little more cardio into the daily workout, because I look and feel pretty pitiful right now. I see Raymond board the bus, but I hang back with the crowd, slipping on through the back doors. I scan the mass of people, and when I find him sitting alone, I wait until the bus begins to move before I approach. He doesn’t seem to notice me, nor does he pay me any attention when I sit down next to him as nonchalantly as possible.
I look straight ahead and focus on steadying my breathing. My stomach is doing flip-flops. I don’t know how I ever found the courage to be here, doing this, but here I am. That’s not true; I know exactly where this bravery is coming from: Brooks. My love for him is driving me to confront my past so that I can move forward with my future. If I want him, and I sincerely do, then I have to do this.
My mouth opens to speak several times, but I find no words; my lips are met with silence. I don’t want this conversation to end before it even begins, or be escorted off the bus for some sort of public disturbance, so I have to choose my tactic carefully. I had everything mapped out in my mind, the conversation playing over and over in my head while I waited in the car. But now, I’m at a loss.
Giving myself more time, I twist off my scarf and pull off my gloves, tucking them all into my giant purse. My hands are shaking, and I try to hide the display of nerves by wringing my hands together in my lap. When I feel large warm hands cover mine, I startle, almost jumping completely out of my bus seat.
“Hello, Vivian. I have to say, I’m surprised to see you, especially here of all places. I’ll assume that this is not a coincidence, considering you followed me from the distribution center.” I gasp, and he responds by patting my hands and then returning them back to his jacket pockets.
“You don’t make it around the block as many times as I have and not know when someone is tailing you,” he chuckles. “So what do I owe the honor? Did Brooks not tell you that I swore to stay away from the two of you, and that I was bowing out?”
“I didn’t give him the chance to tell me,” I say, tilting my head down in embarrassment.
“Well, sounds to me like you’re following the wrong person, little lady.”
“No,” I say adamantly, raising my eyes to meet his. “I’m exactly where I need to be. Brooks and I don’t have a future–no matter where you fit into the equation–if I don’t have this conversation with you first.”
“Okay, then, my ride is plenty long to get whatever you need to off your chest. I’m all ears.” Raymond takes his hands out of his pockets and crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back in his seat like he’s getting comfortable to hear a massive ear-chewing.
“No, Raymond, I’m here to hear you talk. I want to know what happened that night with my father. I want to know what happened when Brooks went to visit you ten years ago. And you’re right; you have over an hour to tell me, which is plenty of time.”
He immediately sits up straighter, surprised at my demands. “There’s nothing I can’t tell you that you can’t read in the police and trial records,” he says, looking away from me out the window.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Brooks and I both read the records ten years ago, and there were plenty of holes. It’s time you filled in the gaps for me.”
The way he shifts in his seat, I can tell this trek down memory lane is extremely uncomfortable for him. Shit, it’s uncomfortable for me too, but how I see it is that he owes me at least this.
He remains silent, and I quickly realize that I need to do or say something to save this conversation because it’s going nowhere fast. “Look,” I sigh, “I know enough to realize that my father was no saint. I understand that he was into something that got him into a situation that more than likely got him killed. But I don’t know the details. I’m just looking for someone to fill in the gaps, and the only person who can do that is you.”
Raymond finally looks at me, torment written all over his face, and then stares down at his hands he has begun to slowly rub together. “I’m not sure what you what to hear, Vivian. One of the reasons I took the plea bargain, the same reason your mother agreed to the plea bargain, was so you would never find out the negative things about your father. He was a good man that got wrapped up in the bullshit that I was always finding myself waist-deep in, but this time, we both got in way too deep.”
I lean back in my seat, mimicking his earlier attitude. “Why don’t you start at the begi
Raymond brings his hands to his face, rubbing his palms over his eyes. I can’t tell if he’s expecting me and this situation to disappear when he opens his eyes again or if he’s trying to force the memories of his past to the surface. Either way, I feel no pity for this man, only disdain for his actions. Finally, he lowers his hands, looking straight ahead, and begins the story I’ve waited the last twenty years to hear.
“He gave me a job when no one else would. I had been in and out of trouble most of my life, but your dad took a chance on me and gave me a job. I was so thankful, so when he told me about his goal of wanting to open a second store, I thought I owed it to him to help.”
“The police records said it was a burglary. This whole best friend picture you’re painting doesn’t make much sense,” I say, my irritation in the direction of his story evident in my tone.
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions, little lady.” His crystal blue glare pins me through the corner of his eye.
I nod and wave him on to continue.