GETTING OVER YOU: a novel by:, page 18
The story started to sink into my gut and I stepped back.
Crosby caught his breath and stared into the night.
“He leaned forward, and I guess he fell right into the water. My back was to the lake. Nobody saw him at first. I guess he was kicking and punching, trying… trying to swim… And by the time someone realized there was a little kid in the water like that, he was way out in the lake. The second I realized it was Nicholas, I ran towards the water. My brain didn’t even think about the dock. I could have run along the dock and jumped into the water. That distance…” Crosby shut his eyes. He took another breath. “I ran into the water and started to swim. I moved like I’d never moved in my life. There wasn’t a time in my life when I cared about exercise. Or being fit. Or any of that stuff. But the harder I swam, the more my lungs burned, the more my arms and legs hurt… there was just so much distance between us. I would go under the water and swim, screaming in the water as I did so. I would pop up and see him. Then he would be gone. Then he would appear again. But there was no…” Crosby looked at me. “I couldn’t get to him in time, Josie. I couldn’t save him.”
I touched Crosby again and he quickly shook me away again.
He walked to the edge of the back porch and I stayed behind.
“Everything after that went dark for a little while,” he said. “There was nothing I could do or say to fix what happened. It just played through my head over and over. I had to make the phone call to Cindi. To call my own sister and tell her that her son… she was at work and she trusted me…”
“Accidents happen,” I said.
Crosby turned his head. “No. Not like this. If I wasn’t so fucking lost in that song, I would have seen him walk from the shore to the dock. He wouldn’t have put a foot on that dock before I called his name to tell him no. Instead, he just walked along the dock like it was nothing. Besides that… I couldn’t get to him. I was too late. Too slow.”
He stared forward again.
His silence let the story sink into my heart a little more.
And it started to make sense.
I took small steps toward him. I slowly reached out with my right hand and touched his back. His muscles tightened but he didn’t push me away.
“That’s why I do what I do, Josie,” he said in a soft, broken-hearted voice. “I run as fast as I can. I set a timer when I run. I have to get to a certain point. If I can do that… I imagine myself saving him. But I can never save him. There’s no second chance.”
“You punish yourself, Crosby,” I whispered. “And I understand why. It doesn’t make you a bad person for what happened.”
“Of course it does. I took the one thing my sister had. It hurt her marriage more than anything else possibly could. I lived up to what others saw me as. And because of that, I walked away from everything.”
“You don’t have to walk away anymore, Crosby. Or run. I’m here. I’m not going to go anywhere either. Not because of what you just told me.”
He slowly turned to face me. Standing tall, thick with muscle that came with a tragic story, his eyes staring down at mine, leaving me shivering. Still holding himself together, but I knew it wouldn’t be for long.
With my right hand, I touched his chest. My left hand moved up until I felt the scruff on his face.
“I warned you,” he whispered. “You didn’t listen.”
“You’ll get used to me not listening,” I whispered back to him.
Crosby’s hands sought my hips and held tight.
The moment between us then had nothing to do with the passion we shared in his bedroom. This was something else. This was Crosby leaning into me a little.
“I am so sorry, Crosby,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine what you went through. What you still go through. And you’re the good brother you are by holding all that in. And you probably keep your distance to let that pain somehow go.”
Crosby just stared. Then after what felt like an hour, he lowered down and put his forehead to mine. “Stay tonight.”
“I already planned on it.”
“Josie, I need to hold you.”
24
That One Night…
THEN
Crosby
The story had moved on. Because that’s what stories did. People went to the lake again. Most of them had no idea what had happened there. There was no reason to close the lake or keep people from swimming in it. It wasn’t the lake’s fault. Although I wanted to fucking drain that thing and never see it again.
I touched my chest as I stood on the porch.
The night was quiet. It was always quiet here.
I had a cell phone in my left hand and a bottle of booze in my right. I was down to the bottom of the barrel in so many ways now. That meant whatever was cheapest to buy, I bought. I didn’t care how it tasted. All I cared about was when it took effect to stop the noise inside my head. This collision of songs and lyrics and then the screams of those fucking people. The splashing of the water. Me gasping for a breath, tasting that shitty lake water, telling myself I could do it. I could get to Nicholas. I could wrap an arm around him and lift him up.
He’s going to be okay. This is fucking scary, Cros, but he’s going to be okay.
I lifted the bottle of booze to my lips and sipped. I then tossed it behind me, not caring where it landed.
I called Cindi, knowing it was too late to call her.
The phone rang and rang until her voicemail picked up. Her voice was happy, cheery, the typical voicemail you’d expect to hear. My sister in a good mood. My sister sounding alive and well and ready for life. A version of Cindi I couldn’t remember the last time I saw. And now it was only going to get worse…
The voicemail beeped.
“Sis, it’s me,” I said, my voice slurring. I licked my lips and cleared my throat as though that would take away all the booze I had consumed so far tonight. “It’s your brother.” No shit, Cros. She only has one brother. “Crosby.” Stop. Hang up right now. “I need to talk to you. I need to hear from you. Your voice… so I can… we can talk. We have to talk. I have to know you’re okay. Just to hear you for a second, sis. We can get through…” Don’t tell her what to do. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.”
I ended the call and dropped the cell phone. It hit the porch with a thud.
I covered my mouth, feeling like I was going to be sick.
The sounds and images flashed in my head again.
So close to getting to him, but not close enough. Not fast enough. Not strong enough.
That I could change though.
I looked down at my bare feet and nodded.
I was in ripped jeans and a t-shirt.
I was drunk.
But when an urge came to me, there was no way to stop it.
Run.
Run, Cros, run.
“Run,” I said.
I hurried down the porch steps and took off down the street.
I had no idea where I was running to or for how long.
* * *
I stumbled up the steps of the porch, gasping for air. On my hands and knees, I crawled to the front door and turned, putting my back to it. To my right was the bottle of booze I threw an hour earlier.
An hour of running.
Just nothing but running.
Unable to take a deep breath. My ribs, stomach, legs and head all aching together. Hurting so much it took my thoughts away from Cindi and Nicholas. Which was almost a relief for a little while.
I reached for the bottle and found the last few sips and savored them.
Everything burned. Everything hurt.
Somehow things started to make a little sense.
If I run fast enough, I could fix it all.
Which won’t ever happen.
My eyes moved to my cell phone and I swore I saw it vibrate.
I scrambled to get to the phone and check to see if Cindi had gotten back to me. I knew there was no way she was sleeping. When she slept, it was merely naps. A couple of hours at a time only because her body had to physically shut down. Noah had already started to drink more, pulling away from everyone, doing his typical thing. I wanted to knock that guy’s jaw off his face, but he wanted to do the same to me. I probably deserved it more than he did.
Hell, he had already made it very clear at the funeral…
You killed my son. My only child. You. Fucking. Let. Him. Die.
I checked my cell phone and there was nothing there. No reply from Cindi.
I was alone.
Which was good.
Really good.
I stood up and walked down the porch steps. Still barefoot. Still in my ripped jeans. My t-shirt stuck to my body from sweating. I smelled like a trashcan. But that was okay.
I took a deep breath and looked to my left.
To the dark and lonely street.
The street I had just run for over an hour.
And I decided to go for another run.
25
Dinner and a Meeting…
NOW
Josie
I ran alongside Crosby, keeping up with him even as he increased his speed. He had me moving faster than I thought I could move. The only real motivation I had was to keep up with him, so I could watch the way the sweat made his shirt stick to his body, tempting to reveal parts that I had touched and clawed at.
He pointed to the right and I followed his lead as we went around a turn.
“Can I bring up something?” I asked, amazed that I could now run and talk so smoothly.
“Sure, love,” he said.
“You told me everything,” I said. “But you didn’t tell me what happened with your music.”
Crosby nodded and started to slow.
We eased into a comfortable jog. We sort of looked like this fitness couple running together. Which was weird yet cute at the same time. Because I hated running. I didn’t do this fitness stuff. The only reason I was running next to Crosby was to ask him more about himself and then have a cigarette with him when we were done. And truthfully, I wanted to take the lead and run to his house so we could rush right to his bed like we had done the last few days. There was really nothing like being hot, sweaty, and out of breath, and then going straight to the bedroom to finish up.
“I never finished that song, Josie,” he said to me. “I basically packed everything up and called it quits. There was no reason for music anymore. And in some terrible way, I had more ideas than ever going through my head. I’ve heard people say that sad artists are the best ones. When you’re walking through the darkness of pain, tragedy, that sense of rawness, it’s when everything truly comes together. You don’t have to lie to yourself. Your soul exposes itself because it wants to heal.”
I grabbed Crosby’s arm and stopped our jogging.
Without hesitation, I jumped into his arms and started to kiss him.
He kissed me back, hard and fast, right there on some sidewalk. Holding me tightly against him. His skin smelling like sweat, making my mind think of other things.
Crosby had broken my desires way open. Everything he did and said, the way he looked and acted, it was all like a big temptation and there was no way I could ever resist.
“Damn, love,” he growled in between kisses.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just… when you talk, it drives me crazy.”
“When I talk?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“When you say things like that. You’re so good at it, Cros.”
He smirked and put me back on my feet.
“Look, Josie, I put everything away and refused to go back to it. I was lucky to have Jackie in my life at that time. He never gave up on me. He got hooked up with Jonny through this country band that fell apart. Jonny is a musical genius but never had the right look to go at it on his own. Which I think is bullshit. That’s how I met Jonny. He was almost like this pain in the ass little brother that would never leave me alone. We started writing just music. For commercials. For companies. And we grew from there. That’s my life in music.”
“That’s why you don’t play shows anymore,” I said. “Your own songs.”
“Yes,” he said.
I put my hands flat to his wet shirt. “You mean a lot to me, Cros. I more than like you. Just so you know.”
“Yeah, I more than like you right back.”
Crosby started to jog again, and I trailed behind on purpose to enjoy the view of his ass. I was addicted to him. He made me forget so much that I had been desperate to forget. He gave me the chance to breathe.
We ran back to my car, which was sort of a letdown. But if that was the worst Crosby did to me…
Smoking had become our thing. I didn’t enjoy smoking anymore unless it was with Crosby. I didn’t enjoy the taste or anything else either. Unless I was standing with Crosby. Watching the way he smoked was dangerous because he made it look fun. It was like we were teenagers, leaning against my car, smoking, talking about the dumbest stuff. But each second spent like that, I felt myself falling more and more. My legs hurt from running with Crosby, but my knees hurt worse from the fall.
“We have a slight problem, love,” Crosby whispered to me.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Your sister-in-law is coming toward us.”
“Don’t you fucking move,” I said with a grin.
“I’d better finish my run,” he announced.
“I hate you. I swear…”
“I’m not going to say a word,” Kait said as she waved her hand at the smoke.
“Please don’t,” I said.
“You ran?” Kait asked.
“Four miles,” Crosby said. “A warm up.”
“And then you ruin it with that stuff,” she said, shaking her head.
“Could be worse,” I said.
“I’m not even going to have that conversation,” she said. “I didn’t come out here to debate the health benefits of smoking. Meadow will take care of that.”
“How’s the leg?” Crosby asked. “She okay? Walking fine?”
“She’s fine,” Kait said. “And I came out here to thank you personally for helping her when you did. And to offer for you to come over for dinner tonight.”
“No,” I blurted out.
“No?” Crosby asked.
“Unless you want to,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Meadow insists you come over for dinner,” Kait said. “She feels you saved her life and that’s worthy of a meal.”
Crosby laughed. “She’s something, huh?”
“You have no idea,” she said. “So, what’s your answer, Crosby?”
“As long as I can shoot home quick and get a shower, I’m there,” he said. “Need me to bring anything?”
“We’re good,” Kait said. “We just need you at the dinner table.”
“Sounds like a blast,” he said.
My lips shuddered, not sure what to make of what was happening.
I was slightly nervous and even more embarrassed. The look in Crosby’s eyes suggested this was his way of getting back at me for the whole sneaking into the neighbor’s house thing.
“It’ll be an adventure,” he said with a wink.
“See you in an hour?” Kait asked.
“I’d better get running. I’m extra sweaty today.” Crosby pointed at me. “This one knows how to get the heart pumping.”
My jaw dropped, and my cheeks turned a deep shade of red.
“Does she now?” Kait asked.
Crosby didn’t say another word. He took off. Those strong legs of his pumping hard…
“Well then,” Kait said as she nudged me with her elbow. “Crosby’s coming over for dinner.”
“Tell me you’re not making anything weird,” I said.
“I’m making a delicious dinner for everyone,” she said. “Including your boyfriend.”
She stuck out her tongue like she was eight years old.
Laughing, Kait walked away.
I stood there and hugged myself.
Boyfriend.
I guess that made sense.
And now Crosby was coming over for dinner. To meet my brother. To see Kait in her personal environment. To have Meadow be… Meadow.
I sighed but smiled.
I needed another cigarette.
* * *
Meadow ran to the door first.
I chased behind her like we were teenage sisters fighting over the same cute boy who was delivering a pizza.
She opened the door wearing a pretty dress with bright purple flowers on it and her hair pulled back all prim and proper. For me, I took a quick shower, left my hair wet, and threw on a change of clothes. Nothing fancy.
Crosby stood there in all his sexy glory. Wearing a flannel shirt that knew how to cling to his body. He looked so good, I felt myself pucker my lips to let out a sigh. In his hand was a bottle of wine and flowers.
“Good evening, Crosby,” Meadow said.
“Good evening, Meadow,” he said.
“I assume those flowers are for my aunt,” she said.
Crosby didn’t miss a beat.
He bent down on one knee before Meadow and plucked a daisy from the small bouquet of flowers and handed it to her.
“This one is for you,” he said.
Meadow’s cheeks gushed. She let out a little giggle and turned, her dress dancing behind her.
“I wonder what my father will think of this,” she said.
Crosby started to laugh.
He stood back up and handed me the rest of the flowers.
“Really?” I asked.
“Just wanted to watch you have to carry these through the house. With your pretty cheeks all red.”
“You know, you’re stepping into my territory here,” I said. “I should be making you feel uncomfortable.”
Crosby moved at me, slipping a hand to the small of my back. He kissed my cheek and put his lips to my ears.
“Your wet hair tells me you were just in the shower. Thinking of your perfect body… water rushing down your sweet skin… that makes me feel uncomfortable, love.”
