Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(15)

Chapter Five





BRIELLE





“Are you sure you want to head home?” my mother asks as she helps me fold the clothes on the bed.

“I can’t stay here.”

“It’s only been four days. It can’t be that bad.”

Oh, but it is. My mother is trying and is in pain, but she’s driving me nuts. I can’t move without her fussing over me.

Not to mention, Addy is leaving and my mother has her life in California. I haven’t had any flashes or memories since the funeral, and I’m getting more anxious as the time slips by. I need to go to the beginning and work my way to the present, not that I know what that is. I guess it would be the last solid part of my life that I fully remember. My mother would flip her shit if she knew I was planning this.

“It’s not bad, Mom. You just have things to do and I need to sort my life out,” I explain.

“Yes, but you’ll be alone,” Mom says with concern. “I can’t just leave you like this.”

“I’m not alone.”

“You won’t have me or your broth—” She stops herself. “You will be here without any family.”

“I have Spencer, Emmett, and Holden. They’re good substitutes for the time being.”

Mom walks over, taking the shirt from my hand. “I noticed you didn’t say Henry.”

No, I didn’t. In fact, I am livid at him. “Did he call back?”

She shakes her head. “Not since yesterday.”

“Right.”

Henry left the day I got out of the hospital and still hasn’t returned to Rose Canyon. He called my mother last night to apologize and let her know he would be here today.

I really can’t believe he wasn’t here for my brother’s funeral. That his job is more important to him than being here for me. And, yet, there’s a part of me that isn’t surprised.

My mom takes my hand in hers. “Never mind that. Things have a way of working out.”

“Does that mean we will be okay? Does that mean we’re even together? Nothing makes sense, Mom.”

“Well, while I can’t tell you those answers, I can ask you to look inside of your heart. Is this okay for you? Is this what you want?”

I don’t know. I want to say yes because I am assuming we found our way and that this is something I’ve come to deal with. However, this is not okay. I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t care about me enough to help while I’m clearly in a crisis.

“I can only handle so much thinking,” I answer, which really isn’t an answer. “Can we get the replacement phone on our way to where I live?”

Mom gives me a sad smile. “Yes.”

That’s at least one thing, even if it still came with restrictions. They ordered me a new phone with a new number and nothing but my contacts transferred from my old line. Whatever.

I finish packing my bag, and my mom and I head out. We drive through the streets of my hometown. Nothing has changed, and yet, everything is different. There are pictures of Isaac on the windows of the storefronts. We pass the high school where he taught, and there is a large sign with his face. Tears prick my eyes because this world was so much brighter with him in it.

I would give anything to talk to him right now. Isaac was nine years older than me, and while so many big brothers may have thought it was annoying to suddenly have a sister, he didn’t. He protected me, loved me, always made sure that I had his support, even when he didn’t agree.

We turn down Mountain Rd and pass the coffee shop. At the corner, there is a makeshift display of flowers, candles, and papers that I can’t look away from. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Why are there flowers and things outside of RosieBeans?”

The last memory I have of the cafe was when it opened, but that was right before I left for college. It was a big deal to get a coffee shop in our tiny town.

Mom fidgets and then makes another turn onto a side street. “Why do you think, Brie?”

Because that must be where the incident happened. It must be where my brother died. “I don’t remember.”

Mom takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay.”

Everyone keeps saying that, but it’s not. I rip my hand away, turning to face the window. Mom stops at the store and grabs my replacement phone, handing it over. As we take another turn, we pull up to the old brick mill. Only, it doesn’t look run-down.

It looks like people live here.

“I live here?”

“Yes.”

I heave a sigh and try not to be lost.

We exit the car, and when I turn, I see Spencer leaning against his car. He came. He came, and he’s going to help.

I start toward him, but someone comes flying out of the building.

“Brielle! Oh my God, you’re home! Thank the Lord above. I have prayed every single day for you. How are you feeling? We took in your mail for you, and I have it all in a box,” a woman who I don’t know says.

I open my lips, but I’m too shocked to actually say anything. Then the woman is talking again, so I give up trying to form words.

“I am so sorry about Isaac. I was devastated—the entire town was. The football team hasn’t been able to play since he died. You know how much those boys love him. I ran into Jenna and she was saying how the kids are lost without you too! Gosh. It’s just so much.”