When We Collide (6 page)

She shook her head. “No, William, he’s not.”

I suppressed the urge to scream, to call her the
liar I knew she was, contained the impulse to put my fist through
the closest inanimate object.

Her attention flitted between the house and me,
acute anxiety firing in each jerky movement. I glanced behind me to
the few people who idled on my parents’ porch. None of them even
seemed to notice we were there. I turned back to level my eyes at
the girl who once again had shaken my world.

“After everything, Maggie, you’re going to stand
there and lie to me?” I wanted the words to reflect my anger.
Instead my voice cracked. “Tell me the truth. You owe me that.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and tears escaped from
the corners and slid down her face. She twisted her hands in the
hem of her black sweater.

I pushed aside the familiar desire to comfort her. I
had to take another step back when she laid the full force of her
brown eyes on me again.

“Please…William, you have to believe me,” she
begged. “He’s not—”

My eyes blurred, burning with the betrayal. “How
could you do this to me, Maggie?”

How? How was any of it possible? The presence of the
child hidden away in the van next to me was nearly insufferable. A
new weight that had been added to my shoulders.

The innate need to protect her hit me again.
Doubled.

She jumped when a screen door slammed shut at the
house beside us, the sudden fear that had worried her face twisting
into shame.

“I have to go,” she said, tripping over herself as
she turned to climb into the driver’s seat. She was shaking so
uncontrollably she didn’t seem to have proper function of her
limbs.

“Damn it, Maggie. You can’t just…” I reached for her
again. I had to stop her, make her talk to me.

She slapped my hand away, her expression desperate
as she retreated into herself.

“You have to let it go. Please.” Her eyes were
pleading, filled with a silent communication she knew I only I
could understand.

I stepped back in disbelief, shocked she would
actually suggest that I could, and she took the opportunity to shut
the door in my face.

Stuttering, the old engine sprang to life.

I stood in the middle of the street, watching her
go, clueless what I was supposed to do now.

As misled as I’d always believed her to be, I would
never have imagined she could have betrayed me this way.

She’d been good—to a fault.

I knew first-hand how far that goodness would go,
how far she’d go to deceive herself into believing something was
right when it was so obviously wrong.

William ~ Present Day

There’d be no sleep tonight, I was sure. There were
only memories and anger and betrayal that I didn’t know how to deal
with. So many questions consumed me, ate at me, twisted me up with
dread. My mind raced while my heart felt as if it might shut down.
Through the walls, I heard my mother weeping quietly in her room.
Deep strains of my father’s voice murmured comfort, though I
couldn’t make out what he said. The day had taken its toll, had
left her spent. Thank God she knew nothing about what had
transpired this afternoon, but that in itself added to my
questions. How had no one else noticed? How had no one else
seen?

But my family didn’t know that over the summer six
years ago my life was rocked—permanently changed. They didn’t know
that one night had me inexplicably drawn to a girl I didn’t even
know. I’d stood up for her without understanding why and then spent
the next three months falling for her. They had no idea that one
day I’d finally had enough, that I’d fought for her and, like a
fool, had believed she was mine.

William ~ May, Six Years Earlier

I plodded up the back steps of my parents’ house, a
duffle bag slung over my shoulder. Fatigue slowed my feet, but I
was excited to be home, so much so I had driven almost straight
through. I hadn’t seen my family since Christmas break.

Turning the key to the lock, I tiptoed into the
kitchen of the darkened house, careful not to wake the rest of my
family since it was close to three in the morning. A small light
burned over the stove and another cast a faint glow from the base
of the staircase when I walked through the archway and into the
living room. A blanket lay twisted and discarded in a pile on the
couch and a coffee cup with a tea bag sat half empty on the coffee
table.

I felt a smile pull at the side of my mouth. I’d bet
a million bucks my mother had waited up for me as long as she could
before she’d given up and gone to bed.

Quieting my footsteps, I lumbered up the stairs. My
parents’ bedroom door was cracked open an inch, and I paused to
peek inside. My mom and dad slept curled and wrapped together, my
father’s typical hard exterior erased in the deep abyss of
sleep.

My smile from downstairs grew.

I quietly moved on from their room into my own. My
bed had been turned down, waiting in welcome. Peeling my clothes
off down to my boxers, I dropped them to the floor, then gave into
the fatigue that had chased me for miles as I fell onto my
childhood bed, thinking how great it was to finally be home.

~

What the hell? I blinked, trying to orient myself to
the surroundings, unable to do so before I was pummeled in the face
a second time. With a pillow.

Ugh.

He was so gonna pay when I wasn’t so damned tired.
But for now, I was desperate for some more sleep. Burying my face
in the safety of my pillow, I groaned and turned my back on the
would-be attacker.

“Go away.”

Blake just laughed, loud and without remorse, and
hit me again. “Wakey wakey, little brother.”

I rolled to my back, dragging the pillow with me to
shield my face, mumbling into the dense fabric. “What time is
it?”

“Nine.”

I groaned again. “No way, man. I need some more
sleep. I didn’t get in until almost three last night.”

Blake ripped the pillow from my grip. I was blinded
by a sudden burst of sunlight I’d hoped not to be faced with for at
least another couple of hours. I squinted up at my brother who
stood above me with a ridiculous grin plastered on his face, then
pressed my fists to my eyes.

“Come on, Blake.” I’d beg if I had to.

“Mom’s making breakfast. Quit being such a baby and
get your ass downstairs,” Blake said as he tossed both pillows to
the foot of my bed. “Everybody’s waiting for you.”

Sounds from the kitchen directly below filtered into
my room, the running of water and the clatter of dishes. The
distinct smell of bacon frying jarred my senses.

I sat up, running a hand through the tangled mess on
my head. “Okay…okay, I’m up.”

Clapping a hand on my shoulder, the grin on Blake’s
face softened to a smile. “Welcome home, Will.”

I glanced up at my older brother and smiled.
“Thanks.”

Blake just nodded once and headed out the door.

Heaving out a weighty breath, I pushed the tiredness
aside. My mom would have been up with the first hint of morning,
and I knew it had probably taken every ounce of willpower she had
to wait until nine before she sent Blake up to wake me.

I pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and a plain
black tee and started downstairs. A sudden sense of belonging
struck me with the voices coming from the kitchen.

It’d been no secret I planned on moving away from
Mississippi permanently once I graduated from UCLA. I’d always
wanted the big city and a fast life. I was going to be the one who
escaped this small town, the one with a huge house and a bank
account to match. But the older I got, the more I had begun to
question those intentions. I had begun to miss my life here, and
each day, those goals seemed to become less and less important.
Really, I couldn’t imagine not having
this
.

I paused at the archway of the kitchen to take them
in. At the table, my dad was buried in the pages of the morning
paper while he ate breakfast, and Blake sat beside him, shoveling
food in his mouth while he talked to our mother. She stood at the
stove, facing away, pouring pancake batter into a hot skillet while
chatting with my brother from behind.

It was Aunt Lara who noticed me first. She was
leaning with her back against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee
from the giant mug I had made for her for Christmas years before,
back when I was just a kid. A smile slid over her face when she saw
me, lit all the way up to her eyes.

“Well, look who’s finally up,” she said with a bit
of a tease. “We thought you were going to sleep away the entire
day.” Her expression was soft, her brown eyes glinting in humor,
though that humor could never cover the way she adored me and
Blake.

I offered a sleepy, “Mornin’,” to the room.

Dad and Blake looked up from their places at the
table.

Mom released an ecstatic, “Oh,” as she turned and
clapped her hands over her mouth. For a couple of beats she bounced
on her toes as if gaining momentum, then rushed across the room and
threw her arms around my neck. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

I hugged her close, muttering into her neck. “Missed
you, Mom.”

She squeezed me tighter. “You can’t imagine how much
I’ve missed you.” She leaned back so she could see my face and then
suddenly grinned and squeezed my chin. “Look at my baby boy…all
grown up.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Mom, it’s only been
five months since you saw me last. I doubt I’ve really changed all
that much.”

Waving me off, she laughed quietly as she stood
aside so Aunt Lara could step in to take her turn. She giggled when
she wrapped me up in a suffocating hug.

“Don’t mind your mother, Will. Glenda is sure
getting emotional in her old age.” She shot my mom a playful glare.
“And she could hardly stand it that she missed your twenty-first
birthday.”

“Oh hush, Lara.” Mom laughed, pointing an accusatory
finger in her sister’s direction. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t
sit over here with me on his birthday crying that our little Will
was all grown up.”

Embarrassed by the spectacle they were making over
me, I dropped my gaze to the ground and shook my head, chuckling
under my breath. They always made a big fuss every time I came back
for a visit. I used to hate it, but now, not so much.

Still laughing, Aunt Laura shifted to my side to
wrap her arm around my waist. She smiled up in my direction. She
always played the tough one, but I knew she was as soft as they
came.

A gruff voice cut into their banter. “All right you
two…leave the poor boy alone before you go and run him off
again.”

“Hey, Dad,” I said as I wiggled out of Aunt Lara’s
hold and crossed the room. He stood as I approached.

He extended his hand, a wry smile lifting only one
side of his face. We shook hands and he patted me twice on the
shoulder. “Glad you’re home, son.”

I nodded and took the seat beside him.
“Thanks...glad to be here.”

Conversation filled the room as the five of us
shared breakfast. A million questions were thrown my way about the
last semester, complete with the expected good-natured badgering
I’d come to expect.

Yes, I’d passed all of my finals, and my grades were
good. No, I hadn’t met anyone worth telling them about. Nope, I
still had no clue what I was going to do with my Bachelors in
Accounting when I graduated next year.

Blake filled me in on everything that had happened
while I was away, told me work was great, and he’d been saving to
buy his own place. Said he had a new girl. When he told me who, I
teased him that I’d known her my whole life, and maybe I should
have had the first shot with her. Blake didn’t hesitate to smack me
on the back of the head, ushering in a round of our usual jest.

We laughed and joked, and, once again, I found
myself thinking how great it was to be home.

~

“Come on, man, hurry up,” Blake yelled up from the
bottom of the stairs, impatience seeded in each word. “I told Grace
we’d be there to pick her up five minutes ago.”

“I’ll be down in a second,” I shouted over my
shoulder in the direction of the door as I pulled a clean tee over
my head. I was still dripping from my shower. Why I’d let Blake
goad me into this, I had no idea. All I wanted was a couple of days
to unwind from the trip, to sit and vege, but Blake was already
carting me off to a party the first night I was home. Blake had
guilted me into going by telling me to consider it a welcome home
party because all of my old friends would be there. He’d then
pushed me toward the stairs, warning me we were leaving in fifteen
minutes, shower or not.

“Don’t make me come up there and drag your ass down
here.”

I didn’t even respond. I just shoved my feet into a
pair of Converse and ran a hand through my wet hair, wishing I was
crawling into bed instead.

It’d been established years ago I would do just
about anything for my brother.

At the door, we called out a goodbye, and Mom popped
her head out of the kitchen archway. “You two have fun…and be
safe.”

I couldn’t remember a time I’d left the house that
she hadn’t issued the same warning.

I climbed into Blake’s truck, my feet dragging. The
cab smacked with the odor of dirt and sweat and hard work. The old,
beat-up truck roared when he turned the engine over.

Grace’s house was only about five minutes away in a
neighborhood almost identical to ours. She waited on her parents’
porch with an excited smile on her face. Blake let the truck idle
as he hopped out and ran up to her, swung her around and hugged her
close, kissed her hard. I had to turn away from how intimate their
interaction seemed and stare down at my fingers, but I couldn’t
stop the smile from taking hold, glad my brother seemed so
happy.