Of Love & Regret (7 page)

Mr. Brooks owned a
highly successful construction company, but it had taken a back seat to taking
care of his wife. Fortunately, he obviously had highly competent employees that
were able to run the business in his absence.

“What about you?”
Mrs. Brooks asked. “How are your classes?”

Mrs. Brooks seemed
stuck in our college years, since that’s when Cassie had passed. I think it
helped to explain away Cassie’s absence; she could just pretend Cassie was away
at school most of the time. There were often inconsistencies in the way she
spoke about Cassie. Sometimes Cassie still lived at home, but in the next
breath, she would speak about Cassie being away at school. Her mind seemed to
change the story as necessary so she could keep up the belief that her daughter
was still alive.

I glanced at Mr.
Brooks before answering, and he nodded his head, indicating for me to play
along.

“They’re good,” I
answered, trying to keep my answer short and vague. I tensed when she turned
towards Logan, since I knew he had a much harder time keeping up this charade.

“What about you,
Logan?” she asked. “I know how difficult those pre-law classes can be.”

“They are, but I’m
surviving.” He looked supremely uncomfortable, but he tried to smile for her
benefit.

Mrs. Brooks
checked her watch and clucked her tongue. “I wish Cassie would come home soon.
I don’t know why she insisted on coming down from college separately from you
two. It would have made much more sense if you had all driven down together.”

“Why don’t we get
started on lunch,” Mr. Brooks said, standing up. “Cassie can join us when she
gets here.”

“Yes, that’s a
good idea. I’d hate for you two to go hungry just because she’s running late.”
Mrs. Brooks got up and looked at her husband. “Can you give Cassie a call to
see when she’ll be here?”

“Of course.” Mr.
Brooks stepped away as Cassie’s mother ushered us into the dining room. She
made a show of putting Logan’s flowers on the dining table, as well as finding
a vase for my lilies.

“I made all of
Cassie’s favorites today for her birthday. I hope you two are in the mood for
meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, and mashed potatoes.”

“You know me, Mrs.
Brooks,” I said, trying to keep my tone cheerful. “I’m all about carbo loading.
And nothing beats your meatloaf.”

Cassie’s mother
beamed at my response and excused herself to the kitchen. Logan turned to me
the minute she disappeared.

“This isn’t
right,” he said, looking grim. “We’re not helping Cassie’s mother; we’re just
making her sicker. Going along with her delusions is only making things worse.”

“You’re probably
right, but it’s not up to us,” I said in a hushed tone, afraid that Mrs. Brooks
would overhear us. “Forcing her to face reality, especially today of all days,
is just going to make her hysterical. She’s Mr. Brooks’ responsibility, not
ours, and we can’t dictate how he handles her.”

“Has he even
tried?” he asked skeptically. “Or has he always gone along with this act?”

“Of course he’s
tried!” I snapped, my anger welling up quickly. Today was a difficult day, and
I had brought Logan along for support, not to make things harder. “We’ve all
tried! Do you think we
want
to
pretend that Cassie is going to walk through the front door at any minute? Can you
understand how painful it is knowing that it’s never going to happen? I may not
agree with Mr. Brooks’ methods, but my God, he’s the one who has to live with
her day in and day out. We have no right to come in here and upset the balance
and then leave Mr. Brooks to pick up the pieces! Out of all of us, he has it
the worst! He not only lost his daughter
—
his
only child
—
but in a sense, he’s
lost his wife, too.”

My voice started
to break, and I pressed my lips together, willing myself to get my emotions
under control. Logan took my hand and squeezed it.

“I didn’t mean to
make you upset. I know how hard this is for everyone. I just…” Logan sighed and
ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “I just feel so powerless. I hate
feeling like I’m making things worse instead of better.”

“Just play along,”
I pleaded. I didn’t know why he was pressing the issue so much today. He had
gone along with Mrs. Brooks’ delusions last year without complaint, although I
knew it had made him uncomfortable. “Next year, we can try to do this
differently. Let’s just leave things as they are for today.”

I was relieved
when Logan nodded reluctantly. I quickly pulled my hand from his when Mrs.
Brooks came back into the room with a huge platter of meatloaf. Mr. Brooks was
behind her, carrying bowls steaming with macaroni and cheese and mashed
potatoes.

Cassie’s parents
sat at opposite ends of the table, and I took the seat closest to the window. I
surreptitiously shook my head when Logan moved to sit next to me. He frowned,
but obliged by sitting across from me. Five place settings had been laid out,
and the seat next to his was conspicuously empty, and would remain so for the
rest of the meal.

“Did you reach
Cassie, dear?” Mrs. Brooks asked her husband.

“Yes, she said to
go ahead without her. She hit some pretty bad traffic so she won’t be here for
a while.”

“Such a shame,”
Mrs. Brooks said, shaking her head as she started passing around the food. “Her
best friend and boyfriend are here to celebrate her birthday, and she has to
get stuck in traffic.”

I swallowed audibly,
but didn’t comment as I numbly placed a slice of meatloaf on my plate. The room
was silent as we all concentrated on the food.

“Are you dating
anyone, Madison?” Mrs. Brooks asked, breaking the silence. I forced myself to
keep my face expressionless although my insides were twisting.

“Yes, his name is
Adam.” I had told her last year, and the year before that, about Adam but I
didn’t expect her to retain that information. It was as if she pressed restart
every time I saw her to a period of time that made sense to her.

“I’m so happy to
hear that!” she exclaimed. I busied myself scooping helpings of macaroni and
cheese and mashed potatoes on my plate so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact
with her. Unfortunately, she persisted with her questions.

“Does he go to the
University of Michigan, too?” she asked.

“Um, yes.” I
figured the best answer was the one that needed the least amount of explanation,
even if it meant lying. “That’s where I met him.”

Mrs. Brooks turned
to Logan. “Have you met him? Is he a nice boy?”

My stomach
clenched when he didn’t respond right away. I could see how tense he was by the
muscle twitching in his jaw.

“Yes,” he finally
said. “He’s fine.”

“Oh, good!” she
said delightedly. “I’m so happy that both my girls have found such wonderful
boyfriends. I never worried about Cassie since she’s so outgoing, but Madison
was always the quiet one. I always prayed that she would find someone who would
take the time to discover how special she is.”

I flushed, both in
embarrassment at her assessment of me and at the discomfort of having her talk
about Cassie and I as if we were young girls. Which, in her mind, I guess we
still were.

Mr. Brooks cleared
his throat and steered the conversation to his latest project at work. I was
grateful for his interruption, but as soon as he was done speaking, Mrs. Brooks
jumped right back onto the topic of relationships.

“Logan, have you
thought about where you’re going to apply to law school?” she inquired. She
leaned towards him conspiratorially. “Cassie would be furious if she knew I
told you, but she’s worried about what will happen to you two after graduation,
especially if you go to law school far away.”

“I haven’t really
given it much thought yet,” he replied, his body language clearly indicating
that he was uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “We’ll see what happens.”

She gave him a
gentle smile. “I told her not to worry. I know you’re head over heels in love
with her, and she feels the same way.” She glanced at her husband
affectionately. “I can see you two having a long, happy life. Just like me and
Charles.” She turned to me. “I know the same thing is waiting for you, too,
Madison. If it’s not with this boy Adam, then I’m sure you’ll meet that special
someone who will make you feel complete, and you’ll wonder how you ever lived
without him.”

I gave her a wan
smile and continued to eat without comment, although my stomach was protesting.
I was far too nauseated to have an appetite, but it was something to occupy
myself with. I saw Logan’s hand tighten on his fork, but he didn’t say
anything.

“Do you remember
the time you two were in eighth grade and dressed up like Madonna for the
school talent show?” Mrs. Brooks smiled with a faraway look in her eyes. “I
remember how long and hard you two practiced. It almost drove me crazy having
to listen to you girls for three straight weeks. Every time I turned a corner,
you two would be belting out a Madonna song.”

I smiled at the
shared remembrance. “We argued about which one of us would get to dress up as
Madonna. We ended up settling it by both of us dressing up as her but at
different stages of her career. Cassie was
Like
a Virgin
Madonna and I was
Vogue
Madonna.”

Mr. Brooks shook
his head as he smiled fondly. “I remember the ruckus you girls raised with your
outfits. They weren’t exactly school-friendly.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs.
Brooks said with a laugh. “They were decently covered up. Some parents were
just squeamish because Madonna was so controversial back then. And you know how
Cassie is. Once she has her mind set on something, there’s no swaying her.”

Taking part of the
talent show had been all Cassie’s idea. In theory, it sounded like fun, but the
thought of standing on stage and singing in front of the whole school had been
terrifying. But as usual, somehow Cassie had been able to convince me that I
would enjoy it, and in the end, I had. She had pushed me countless times during
our friendship to do things I was afraid of, but not in a domineering way. She
was determined to live life to the fullest, and had wanted to make sure I was
along for the ride.

The rest of lunch
was filled with memories of our childhood, which was far more preferable than
talking about Cassie in the present tense.

“Why don’t we go
ahead and cut the birthday cake,” Mr. Brooks suggested when we were done with
lunch. “I doubt Cassie will be home anytime soon, and I know Logan and Madison
have to make the long drive back.”

Mrs. Brooks sighed
in disappointment. “What kind of birthday celebration is this without the
birthday girl here?” Her expression lightened. “Oh well. We’ll have to make the
best of it. We should still light the candles in honor of her birthday, even if
she isn’t here.” She turned to me expectantly. “You’ll blow out the candles for
her, won’t you?”

I nodded, although
the thought of blowing out Cassie’s birthday candles was disturbing. It was as
if I was pretending to be Cassie in her absence.

“Would you be a
dear and run up to her room to get a lighter?” she asked. “I know she has one
since she’s always burning those incense candles.”

“Sure.” I didn’t
look at Logan as I got up and made my way to the staircase. I knew this house
as well as I knew my own since I had spent so much time here growing up. I
brushed my hand against the cool, wooden surface of the newel post as I made my
way upstairs. Cassie and I had run up and down these stairs countless times,
never mind the time we had gotten the bright idea of using her mattress to
slide down them. I had ended up with a bloody elbow and Cassie had almost
broken her nose.

The door to
Cassie’s bedroom was closed, and I opened it tentatively, although I knew
exactly what I would find. Nevertheless, I still felt like I had been punched
in the stomach when I saw her room, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Nothing had
changed since the day Cassie had died. It still looked like the room of a
living, breathing twenty-year-old girl who would be back at any moment. Her
jacket was flung across the back of a chair as if she had thrown it there
earlier today, and makeup still cluttered the top of her dresser. Magazines
were strewn about the room and I knew if I picked one up, it would date back to
eight years ago.

Her bed was in
disarray as if Cassie had roused from it just this morning. I felt a rush of
emotion go through me as I thought about the countless times we had stayed up
late under the covers, giggling about which boys we thought were cute in our
school and which ones were gross. As we got older, it was where we talked about
our dreams and what we wanted to do when we grew up. I had never imagined that
Cassie would never get the chance to fulfill those dreams.

I gravitated to the
corkboard over her desk. It was crowded with photos that told the story of her
life. My chest tightened when I saw the picture of us in our Madonna costumes,
our arms draped around each other’s shoulders with proud, happy smiles for
having brought the auditorium of students to their feet with our performance.
My gaze drifted to a photo of us in high school in our soccer uniforms. Cassie
had convinced me to try out for the junior varsity squad our freshman year, and
somehow, we had both made the team, despite my total lack of coordination. During
one practice, Cassie had almost gotten suspended when she kicked the ball in
Jenna Kowalski’s face after the other girl made a comment about me only being
good enough to be a bench warmer. Jenna’s outraged wail and bloody nose should
have been enough to get Cassie in serious trouble, but she had somehow charmed
the coach into believing that it had been nothing more than an unfortunate
accident.

I felt a hollow
ache deep inside as I looked at the pictures of us in college. We had always
planned on going to the same school, and had been ecstatic when we both got
accepted to our first choice: the University of Michigan. We had spent the
whole summer before our freshman year imagining what college life would be
like. It had been everything we had dreamed of and more.