CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CASH

I’d been brooding around my parents’ house the whole day, barely speaking to anyone. I was trying to work up the nerve to tell them I was going back to LA and didn’t know when I’d be back. I wasn’t going to stick around here, where I’d been humiliated. Being called out as being an idiot so very publicly stung my pride. A lot.

When the front door crashed open, I jumped out of the recliner, shocked at the noise. I gasped when I saw it was Stacey, with Clara, my niece, perched on her hip. The rage on Stacey’s face was the first hint that she’d found out what I’d done at Brenda’s. Okay, I wasn’t exactly proud of my behavior but she deserved it. I settled back into the recliner, not caring if Stacey was mad or not.

She’d just have to get over it.

My mother came into the living room from the kitchen, and gasped when she saw Stacey. “Mom, take Clara, please.”

Mom hurried over to take the baby from her. Stacey’s face was twisted in a powerful rage, and her eyes were narrowed into slits. I was rooted to the spot, wondering if she was capable of murder or not. When she turned that furious scowl on me, I kind of thought she might be.

Without saying a word, she beckoned for me to follow her outside. I hesitated at first, but she insisted with a glare that told me she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“I don’t want my baby girl to see her uncle get punched in the face. By her mother. So you will come outside, and you will do it now.”

I was a little nervous that she might actually do it.

We stepped out into the warm afternoon air, and Stacey finally spoke. “You have a lot of nerve treating Brenda that way,” she said, her voice cold and unforgiving. “What do you think you are?”

I shook my head, confused. “I’m not sure why you’re mad at me, Brenda…,”

“Brenda is the one that survived breast cancer at such a young age the doctors brushed her off for years. You want to know why you don’t remember her from high school? It was because she was so young when her symptoms started that she was out of school sick a lot, waiting for one of those boneheaded doctors to finally listen to her. You want to know why you hadn’t met her before you came back home, after five years, five years, Cash, it was because she was busy fighting cancer.”

“I didn’t know,” I started to interrupt, but again, Stacey stopped me.

“I can’t believe how selfish you are. That woman has been working hard to save her own life, and since she’s over 21, she couldn’t stay on her parents’ insurance plan. And guess what? When you already have cancer, insurance companies don’t really want to take you on as a client. So yes, she has a mountain of debt, but Bren? She won’t take help from anyone to pay that debt off. I’ve offered to loan her money, to have a fundraiser for her, but she won’t let me do it. She won’t take money from people, yet you breeze into town, pursue her, because yes, you did, and then you want to believe a news article written by some tabloid journalist that has never even met Brenda? You have your head stuck so far up your own ass I’m surprised you don’t look like a pretzel. You don’t deserve her, anyway, so thank you for ruining any chance you might have had with her.

Stacey was right and I was an actual heel. I hadn’t given Brenda even a second to explain. I’d just assumed, because of my past, that she was after me for my money. And Stacey was also right about me being the one that pursued Bren. Bren had tried to discourage me at every opportunity, but I’d persisted. I started to apologize, but Stacey cut me off. I expected her to yell and scream, but instead she just looked at me sadly.

“You know I love you,” she said softly, “but right now, I can’t stand the sight of you. Brenda has been dealing with her cancer for a very long time and she’s done it bravely and with more compassion for others than you have ever shown anyone. She’s only been in remission for a year, but she’s working hard to get on with her life, to live normally, but you think writer’s block is the end of the world. Get over yourself, Cash. There are real people out here actually suffering and you still want the world to revolve around you. I’m so pissed that you’re such a huge ass, Cash. Dammit.”

“Stacey. I didn’t know.” I started to protest, but that only made Stacey’s face go harder.

“Of course you didn’t. Because you didn’t take the time to listen, or to ask questions, or to do anything other than be infatuated with her. She’s not a gold digger, or some bitch trying to ride your fame, Cash. She’s an actual human being, a very caring, sensitive, loving one too. But you will never know that, I hope. I hope Brenda never forgives you. It will save her a whole lot of heartache.”

“Wow.” I mumbled, seeing now how much my sister detested me. And I’d earned every bit of it because she was right. I had been selfish for a very long time. I felt like utter shit for how I’d treated her, our whole family, and Brenda too.

“You’d better apologize before you jet off into the sunset. I don’t know if she’ll actually let you near it, but write it down on a piece of paper if that’s all you can manage. I don’t care how you do it, but apologize, or I will never speak to you again.” Stacey declared before she left me standing at the front of the house, alone.

I walked back into the house and went into the kitchen to get Dad’s keys to the Pontiac. I had an apology to make.

Mom glared at me as I did so and I hung my head in shame. Stacey had dropped a lot of information on me in a short amount of time, but it all sank in. I’d been more than a jerk to Brenda, I’d been the one thing I’d vowed to protect her from. I hadn’t even got the album together yet and I’d already turned it into a lie. I had to make this right.

I went over what I’d say in my head as I drove over to her house, going through different scenarios, but I wasn’t sure which one would be right. I’d think of something to say, then realize it was all about me and what I felt, and not an apology, and I’d scrap it.

I tried to call her on the way to her house, but Brenda wasn’t answering. Once I got to her house, I saw her car wasn’t there and I knew why. There were people parked up and down her curb, people standing on her lawn, and when I got out of the car, they started yelling questions at me. I brushed past them to knock on the door. I glare back at the reporters, the weight of the world on my shoulders. I’d wanted to protect her, but I’d done the exact opposite. I’ve failed her spectacularly.