Park Avenue Player by Vi Keeland
Chapter 33
Elodie
The lake house was even more peaceful than I remembered.
The two-hour drive up north had turned into almost three and a half due to rush-hour traffic and a backup from an accident. So it was late by the time we arrived, and Bree was ready for bed the minute we walked in. She always seemed so exhausted lately.
The two of us were sharing a room, so after I helped her set up her oxygen machines and made the beds with fresh linens, we talked until she could barely keep her eyes open.
Bree’s dad and stepmom were in the bedroom across from us, and they’d turned in for the night about an hour ago. Tobias’s bedroom was at the other end of the house, and he seemed to have disappeared, too, which I was immensely grateful for.
But I couldn’t fall asleep. So I walked down the back stairs to go sit on the dock and get some fresh air by the lake.
My mind felt so jumbled. Between watching how weak Bree had become, being back up at the lake for the first time since Tobias and I had split, and the unsettled state of my relationship with Hollis—I just couldn’t relax.
The lake was serene in the dark, as flat and reflective as a mirror, with only the soft ripple of the water lapping against the rocks along the edge. Sounds of what I thought might be a giant frog croaking in the distance alternated with an owl above the bristle of the trees. They almost seemed to be having a conversation.
I sat in a wooden Adirondack chair on the edge of the dock, took a few deep breaths, and shut my eyes.
Fresh air in, unhappy thoughts out.
Fresh air in, negative energy out.
Fresh air in, shoulders relaxed while exhaling.
After a few minutes, my mind started to clear a little. I felt the tension in my neck ease, and my hands, which I hadn’t noticed were balled into tight fists, bloomed open. Everything seemed easier to deal with.
Until I heard the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs.
“There you are.”
My eyes flashed open at my ex-husband’s voice. Whatever tension had started to wane immediately came back.
“Is everything okay with Bree?”
“She’s fine. I went to your room to look for you, and she’s sound asleep. I was wondering where you’d snuck off to. Then I remembered how much you loved it out on the dock. Remember the night we brought a blanket out and—”
I cut him off. No way was I taking a walk down memory lane right now. “Did you want something, Tobias?”
He stepped closer, crouched down, and put his hand on my arm. “I was hoping we could talk.”
I pulled my arm back. “About what?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Anything. The weather. Work. Politics. Whatever you want.”
“My ability to make small talk with you ended the afternoon I found your dick inside your student.”
It was dark, but the moon lit the lake enough that I could see Tobias flinch. Good.
He sighed. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret what I did.”
“You know how you avoid having those regrets?”
“How?”
“You don’t shit on the people who care about you.” I stood and started to walk toward the stairs. I’d made it up two steps when I decided I did have something to talk about with my ex-husband. Turning around, I marched back to where he stood and folded my arms across my chest.
Something had been eating at me for a long time. “Why?” I said.
His brows furrowed. “Why what?”
“Why did you cheat on me? I was a good wife. I kept a nice home and cooked you meals. We never really argued. I thought we had a good sex life, even. You seemed to get off, and I can’t remember a single time I turned you down when you were in the mood. I even dressed up and answered the door in those cheap naughty nurse outfits you liked so much.”
“My therapist thinks I’m a sex addict.”
I scoffed. “Sex addict? Therapist?”
“Yes, it’s a compulsive disorder, no different than someone who washes their hands all the time or checks if they’ve locked the door. It’s a disease.”
“Really? Okay, well, people who need to wash their hands all the time or check if the door is locked—do they go to someone else’s house to wash their hands or check if the neighbor’s door is locked? Because I might believe there’s a disorder that makes you obsessive about sex—but that doesn’t explain why you couldn’t just bang your willing wife more.”
Tobias frowned. “You’re simplifying something that’s more complicated than that.”
“Actually, I think you’re making something pretty simple more complicated than it is. You cheated because you’re an asshole. And even after two years, you still can’t own that. You know why? Because you’re an asshole. Maybe you have obsessive-compulsive asshole disease. Why don’t you ask your therapist to treat you for that? I hear an enema might help.”
“You’re lashing out because you still care.” He took a step toward me, and I put both my hands up and took a step back.
“Don’t,” I warned.
“You should come to my therapist with me. I think it would be good for us.”
“No, Tobias. First of all, there is no us. Second, you don’t need a therapist to treat you for some bullshit disease. You simply need to man up and grow some morals. And third, I’m not lashing out because I care. I’m lashing out because I hate cheaters. You’ve robbed me of happiness these last two years, and some stupid bitch has the man I care about too nervous to try a relationship because she cheated on him. Cheaters are basically the bane of my existence.”
My ex-husband had the audacity to sound perturbed. “What man you care about?”
I huffed and turned back to the stairs. “Go to bed, Tobias.”
***
The next morning during breakfast, Bree asked if we could all go sit on the back porch when we were done eating. Mariah, Bree’s stepmom, and I cleaned up the kitchen while Richard, Bree’s dad, and Tobias headed outside. We told Bree we’d join them as soon as we were done.
Not ready for the conversation we were about to have, I spent a solid minute drying a single plate. “Maybe we should take all the dishes out of the cabinets and wash them. The house wasn’t used over the winter, and they’re probably pretty dusty.”
Mariah finished rinsing the last plate in the sink and shook the water off before placing it on the drying rack. She turned to face me, leaning her hip against the basin.
“I know this is hard. But think of how much harder it is for her. We have to try to keep it together through everything she wants to say today.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I can.”
She smiled warmly. “You can. Though I’ve only been part of this family a few years, I can say without a doubt that you’re one of the strongest women I know. A storm makes a tree grow its roots deeper so it can keep standing. That’s what you’ll do, what we’ll all do. We dig in and hold tight as a family. All together.”
A lump formed in my throat. Leaning on people hadn’t exactly worked out for me in the past—my own family, Tobias… Every time I’d grown the courage to trust someone and allow them to bear a little of the weight, they’d crumbled when I leaned.
But I’d do whatever it took to help my friend. I just needed to stand strong on my own and be there for her. Breaking down today would only make it harder.
“Thanks, Mariah. I guess we shouldn’t keep her waiting anymore.”
Mariah and I went out to the back porch and joined everyone else. Once we were settled, Bree took a folded paper from her back pocket and began to open it. She cleared her throat. “I thought it was time we discussed my final wishes.”
I knew why she’d asked us all here for the weekend—her reasons were obvious—but hearing her say the words final wishes made it so much more real. Tears welled in my eyes. There was no way I’d get through today dry.
Bree looked at each one of us before she began. I was in awe of how strong she could be.
“Last week when I went to my doctor, I signed a DNR form.” She raised her long-sleeve shirt to reveal a bracelet I hadn’t noticed on her wrist. “I’m sure you all know what that means, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I also know what it means. This bracelet tells any emergency responder or physician that I do not want to have prolonged life-saving treatments performed on me. I’m choosing not to be resuscitated in instances where my heart stops, or where I might need long-term intubation.”
Tears streamed down my face, and Mariah reached over and handed me a tissue.
Bree looked at me sadly. She actually felt bad for us. Talk about being selfless.
“I’m so sorry I need to do this, and that it’s causing you pain. But I believe it’ll be better in the long run if everything is clear. It would be far worse for you all to be unsure of my wishes and have to make decisions on my behalf you aren’t certain about. I also don’t want you to think I might’ve signed documents like the DNR in haste. I want to make sure you know I’ve thought long and hard about my decisions.”
Of course, this made perfect sense. It was the responsible thing to do. Though that didn’t make it any easier. I felt so distraught, so utterly gutted, that when Tobias reached over and took my hand, I didn’t have the wherewithal to pull it away. Instead, I clutched it right back.
“Dad is my executor. My estate is fairly simple and straightforward. All of my remaining savings will go the Lymphangioleiomyomatosis Research Foundation. I have a safety deposit box, which has a few things in it I’d like each of you to have, and he’ll make sure to distribute those.”
For the next twenty minutes, my best friend went on to talk about pain management, donating her organs, her funeral plans, and a half a dozen other things that I heard, but didn’t really process. She talked so long that she had to take multiple breaks to catch her breath. By the time she finished, she’d worn herself out so much that she needed to lie down and rest.
I went with her to the bedroom to make sure she was okay.
Bree sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her. “We’re never going to have these depressing discussions after today. But things needed to be said.”
“I understand. And I’m amazed at how brave you are, holding it all together while you do this. You’re incredible, Bree.”
She took my hand in hers. “I need you to do something for me. I didn’t want to discuss it in front of Tobias.”
“Of course, anything.”
She smiled. “I was counting on you saying that.”
“What do you need?”
“I need you to promise me you’ll fight for true love.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I worry about things—like my dad not going to church after I’m gone, because he blames God. So I made him promise he’d go to services every Sunday for a year after I’m not around anymore. I figured if he could get through that first year, his faith would help him find his way the rest of the time. And I worry you’ve given up on love because so many people have disappointed you in your life.”
I sighed. “I want to give you anything that will make you happy. But I’m not sure how to promise I’ll fight for something that may not exist, Bree.”
She frowned. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course, I do.”
“I mean, really trust me. Blindly. Enough that you can believe something I say to be true, even if it doesn’t make any sense to you?”
I thought about it. “I think so.”
She looked me in the eyes. “Good. Real love is out there, because I’ve experienced it. I don’t talk about my ex a lot because our breakup was difficult for me. But I’ve been loved by a man and loved him back in a way that was pure and true. So I can tell you, without any hesitation whatsoever, that real love exists.”
“I believe you experienced that. But how can you be certain there’s someone out there like that for everyone?”
She looked down at her hands for a minute before looking back up at me. “Faith. I have faith.”
I wanted to believe what she said, if for no other reason than to put her mind at ease. But I also didn’t want to lie to her. So I offered what I could. “I promise you I’ll try. I promise I’ll fight for love if I experience it—that I won’t run the other way if things get tough. Can that be enough?”
Bree smiled. “That’s all I can ask for. You’re so stubborn. I know if you commit to me that you’ll fight for something, you’ll get it. All I needed was that commitment. So it does put my mind at ease.”
I smiled. “Okay, crazy lady. Whatever makes you happy.”
Bree squeezed my hand. “I’m going to lie down. I expect you to go on out to the living room and get your ass good and drunk while I take my nap. Maybe tell off my asinine stepbrother as a way to vent some of your anger. I think you deserve it.”
She really was amazing. I started to get up and then sat back down and pulled her close for a long, tight hug.
“I love you, Bree.”
“I love you, too, Elodie.”
