“You’re gonna have to talk some time,” his brother told him. “You know that, right?”
“Whatever. Not tonight.” The thought of it made him want to hurl.
“Your bed’s still made up,” Becca told Tanner. “Aunt Gina’s old habits die hard.”
“Where is she anyway?”
“With Gray and Maddie. So’s dad.” Logan checked his watch. “They should be back soon. Gray messaged to say they were closing everything up. He and Maddie are gonna drop them off.”
Tanner finished his second whiskey and pushed his glass away. “I guess I’ll head up before they get home.” He couldn’t face having to explain himself to them. Aunt Gina would give him the look that reminded him of his mom. Soft, and concerned and completely guilt-inducing. And for his dad, he didn’t have a soft bone in his body.
He needed to get over this. Forget the way she made him feel. The way she felt in his arms. How for a few weeks it had felt as though the light had been switched on inside his soul again.
“Good night,” he told them. “And thanks.”
As he walked into the hallway, he could hear his brothers and sister talking quietly.
“Should one of us follow him?” Becca asked, sounding troubled. “Maybe he really needs to talk.”
“No, let him sleep.” He was pretty sure it was Logan, though he and Cam sounded almost identical. “He does need to talk, but not after two glasses of whiskey and the night he’s had.”
That was a small mercy at least. As Tanner climbed the stairs, he felt a wave of weariness wash over him. By the time he’d washed his face, brushed his teeth, and put on the sleep shorts he’d left behind in one of the drawers in his closet, every muscle in his body felt like it was about to break down.
But still sleep didn’t come. Not easily, anyway. The bed felt way too empty without her by his side.
Chapter Thirty-One
“I brought you coffee.”
Tanner blinked his eyes open. Logan was standing at the end of the bed, two insulated cups in his hands.
“What time is it?” Tanner croaked.
“Just after six.”
Letting his head fall back against the pillow, Tanner sighed. “Come and see me when it’s actually daytime.”
“The sun is up, there’s not a cloud in the sky. It’s a beautiful day.” Logan pulled the sheets off him, like he used to do when they were kids and it was his turn to wake his brothers up. “Come on, get dressed. We have places to go.”
Groaning, Tanner reached for his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Logan was wearing dark pants and a white shirt, his hair wet as though he’d showered already. “What’s got you so chirpy?”
“I’m not chirpy, I’m busy. I leave for home tonight, and before I go I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“Can I at least brush my teeth?” Tanner asked, though secretly he was touched at his brother’s concern.
“Be my guest.” Logan grinned. “Though it’ll ruin the taste of the coffee.”
“I’ll risk it,” Tanner told him, walking into the bathroom. He closed the door and took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands before looking at himself in the mirror. It had been along, unrestful night. Every time he felt himself begin to drift off, he’d jolt awake, the memory of Van’s tear-stained face filling his mind, and his heart would race like a thoroughbred until he tried the whole going to sleep thing all over again.
It had taken an act of will not to message her. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk to him, both in the office, and again to Logan. He wanted to respect her wishes despite all the questions rushing around his head.
Why did she leave?
Why wasn’t she willing to fight for him?
Why would she give up something so goddamned amazing?
But he knew the answer to all of them. It had been there all along.
Because he wasn’t good enough. And it twisted his guts up so bad.
Ten minutes later, he was sitting next to Logan in the car he and Cam had rented at the airport. His brother hadn’t lied about the morning – it was beautiful. The sky was a deep blue already, the sun as golden as Van’s hair. Through the open windows of the car he could hear birds singing, as Logan turned left from the main road and into the country.
Tanner frowned as he looked ahead. “Why the hell are we coming here?”
“Because I want to talk to you.” Logan pulled the car up right outside the gate. “And this seemed as good a place as any.” He grabbed his insulated cup, and Tanner did the same, the two of them climbing out of the car.
“It’s locked up.” Tanner felt a wave of relief wash over him. The cemetery was the last place he wanted to be. It only held bad memories for him. Of being forced into a black suit. Of Aunt Gina trying to tame his mop of hair with gel and a brush. Of watching a bright white coffin being lowered into the dusty earth, and wondering who was wailing, before realizing it was him.
“We’ll climb over.”
Tanner eyed his brother carefully. “We’re almost thirty, bro. My climbing days are over.”
“Take this.” Logan passed him the insulated mug he was holding, then grabbed hold of the top of the iron railings, vaulting himself over. Reaching through the gaps, he had Tanner pass him the cups. “Come on, your turn.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“Don’t swear in a cemetery.”
“I’m not in a cemetery,” Tanner pointed out. “I’m outside.”
“Yeah, well I’m inside and I hear you. So watch your mouth.”
Landing inside with a thump, Tanner took his coffee back from Logan and lifted it to his lips. It was surprisingly good. He didn’t have to ask his brother where he wanted to go – Tanner knew where his mom’s gravestone was well enough. Even if he could barely bring himself to visit her.
He could count on one hand the amount of times he’d been here since he left for college.
“You gonna tell me why we’re here?” he asked once they’d been looking at her gravestone for a minute.
Logan took a sip of coffee. “Because this right here is the motherload, excuse the pun.”
“The motherload?”
“Where all your problems began.”
“Are we back to therapy again?” Tanner sighed.
Logan shook his head. “We’re back to two brothers talking about the worst time in their lives.” He tipped his head to the side, thinking. “Maybe not the worst time for you, but it’s pretty close.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“You don’t need reminding. None of us do. The memories are always there.”
“Truth.” Tanner shook his head. “But I try not to engage with them.”
“And that’s your problem. You stuff it all down and think you’re okay. And maybe you are okay sometimes. But piling all your problems up under a rug is asking for trouble. You can tiptoe around it all you like, but that big mound of dirt is still there.”
Tanner breathed in deeply. “It’s old history.”
“Old history that’s messing up your life.”