Love Survives(4)

I’ll never forget the day they found her parent’s remains. Kat had to be comforted by adults while Branch and myself were left to prepare for what we would say when we got our chance. In the tree house, where we’d shared so many good memories, the two of us discussed what we could say to Kat.

“I’m going to tell her a joke, not a bad one either. I’ll find the funniest thing I can, and make sure she smiles,” Branch announced.

“She doesn’t need to smile right now, you idiot. She needs to cry. Put yourself in her shoes.” It annoyed me how Branch thought he knew what Kat needed. “She’s falling apart. Both of her parents are gone. They’re never coming back. A joke isn’t going to solve anything.”

“It will make her smile. I’m no good at the other stuff.”

That’s where he was right. Being supportive was my specialty, and I was fully aware of how much he hated that quality in me. “We need to be there, even if we say nothing. She needs to know she’s not alone, Branch. Kat needs to know that she’s loved.”

His eyes opened wide, as if he knew my love for her was stronger than a family type of bond. Though he didn’t argue, I could tell when he walked away that he was still stewing over it. With no time to address the elephant in the room, we parted ways, avoiding the topic all together.

The next few days were pretty hectic. My parents scrambled to get in touch with lawyers, and important people handling the estate of the Michaels. Having only one aunt as her next of kin, both Branch and I worried that Kat would be sent away. We listened to our parents making calls while reassuring us that our lifelong friend wouldn’t be going anywhere. It wasn’t until her aunt left to go back to England that we could rest assured.

The next couple of months everyone walked on eggshells. The news hadn’t let up, yet we’d all learned to keep the television time to a minimum. My mother did everything in her power to transition Kat over to our house without causing her extra grief.

She’d pulled Branch and I aside to prepare us for the transition. “Boy’s, I need you to be gentlemen. You’ll be sharing your bathroom with a lady. That means you need to keep the toilet seat down, and always flush when you’re done going to the bathroom. If she needs to go, you let her in there first, and please give her privacy.”

We both nodded to agree.

My mom was falling apart. Dark circles were under her eyes, and at night I’d heard her downstairs crying when we were all supposed to be asleep.

If my mother wasn’t hard enough to watch, my beautiful friend also struggled. It was obvious she was broken. The once charismatic girl was quiet and withdrawn. She didn’t initiate a conversation, or activity. The more she pushed us away, the harder I tried to be the shoulder she needed to cry on. There were a few moments we shared that were intense. Several times, when we were alone in the tree house, I wanted to hold her; to kiss her and tell her she’d be okay. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to chance it. She needed a friend, not a horny pre-teen. Being her boyfriend could wait. After all, we had our whole lives to work that out. Back then I didn’t have doubts that she’d pick me. I’d been the one to wipe away her tears, to hold her hand, and to silently reassure her that she’d someday be happy again.





Chapter 2

About a year after the death of her parents, Kat finally began to open up. She’d been seeing a doctor, who seemed to help her on the outside. I don’t even know if my parents were aware that inside she was still a disaster. Only someone who knew her would see the brutal truth firsthand. At night, while my family slept so silently, I’d creep toward her bedroom door and listen to her crying. Every sob was like tiny shards of glass being driven into my heart. At thirteen I knew I’d be in big trouble if I opened that door and got caught in her bed. Though it would have been innocent, I wasn’t going to risk any reason for them to want to send her away.

Kat belonged with us, no matter how hard it got sometimes. On good days it was obvious she was happy to be with our family.

My brother Branch had his own way of handling Kat. He’d wait on her, going above and beyond to cater to her every need. While I connected with her on a more emotional level, his actions were all physical. Our bonds were still strong, but clearly changed.

One night, after I’d been out in the tree house with Kat alone, doing nothing wrong, Branch pulled me aside in his room. He kept tapping on the post at the foot of his bed while staring me down. “What is your problem?” I finally asked.

“I want you to back off.”

“Huh?”