CHAPTER FIFTEEN: DROOL-DRENCHED SMILE
Vaughn stares blankly at the man, and the man stares back with exhaustion in his empty, green eyes. They narrow in his direction as he studies the long, fading scar that falls across the man's left cheek and his combed, dark brown hair. And then he puts his back to the rectangular mirror and walks out the door.
It's the morning of the funeral - Wednesday, September 2nd, and his black suit is the only one he owns, but it feels like an anachronism when he wears it.
It's a cold morning, the fresh air immediately starting to bring a pink coloring to his cheeks and ears, and the cut lawn has a layer of dew that waits to be displaced.
The drive to the site is short, but Vaughn hardly takes any note. All he can think of is his father's Sunday night confession at the dinner table when he told Siara and Vaughn that he heard Katelynn's last breath.
"I was on the phone with her, when she died," he told them. "And it was faint, but I heard him. I heard the man, I heard him in the background as he was- as he was...killing, strangling her. And he just kept repeating the same word over and over."
The silence between the three of them stretched on, the two siblings not daring to say a word.
"Wire," Ivan finally said. "He kept saying wire. But the thing is, I've heard that voice before. I know it. I know I have. I can't place it, but I know I've heard that voice before."
And as Vaughn felt his stomach drop, he watched as Siara frowned, tugging at her hair.
Maybe his father is delusional. Maybe he's just doing what he's always done - taken it personally because of course someone must be out to get him and he's the true victim. Or maybe his father really has heard the man's voice before, and it's simply just chance that he'd be affected twice.
The priest giving the eulogy sticks out his cleft chin and paces with a sharp limp. Today he wears a weathered watch and a fervent countenance as he begins to speak, attracting the audience's attention at once. He holds a loud, clear voice that's littered with a light lisp, but his speech shares his sorrow.
Vaughn scans the crowd occasionally, noting the many who are crying for Katelynn as he learns things he never knew about her.
When it is over, he stands off to the side with Tommy, watching through the light fog as person after person gives his father their deepest sympathies. Anxiety shows in Vaughn's hands as he flexes and relaxes them. The last funeral he was at was Penny's, and the last burial was Moose. Thankfully, Tommy's conversation keeps him grounded.
Two younger teenagers are nudged forward by their parents in Ivan's direction, and Vaughn and Tommy watch as they whisper to each other and trudge over to him.
"You remember those two?" He asks, and Vaughn shakes his head. "The Garrett's and the Barnes' kids. They're the ones that always acted like cousins who never listen to their parents and always get into the most trouble when they're together."
"They seem like they still act like that."
"Cause they do. Some things never change."
An older teenager with light brown hair goes up to Ivan next, and Vaughn waits for Tommy's inevitable opinion about him.
It comes a few seconds later.
"He looks like he hits wasps nests for fun," Tommy comments to his left.
"Didn't you say something similar about...Ethan, as well?"
In an instant, Tommy tenses so sharply beside him that Vaughn's caught off guard, but then he relaxes a moment later as if it never happened. The blonde laughs it off, soft and quick. "Yeah, I did...how do you even remember that, man? That was like a decade ago."
Vaughn shrugs, moving on from his friend's behavior. "I just have a good memory, I guess."
Silence falls upon them again for a few moments before Tommy lets out an, "Oh, no."
"What?"
"Just spotted my least favorite old lady. Gotta go, man. Good luck." And then he's making a beeline for Zeke, who stands a few feet to the right of Siara.
Sure enough, by the time Vaughn's turned to look in the other direction, she's right there in front of him, appearing suddenly like an unavoidable apparition.
Vaughn's sense of smell is the second to be plagued. Cathy Swanson, a relative of Katelynn's and a terrifyingly strong octogenarian, has always smelled of old wooden furniture and wilting, week-old wisteria. She also is known to carry a flask with her wherever she goes.
And then his sense of hearing panics as she opens her mouth.
"First your father's accountant, and now his wife, huh?" She starts, and at that moment, Vaughn stays quiet, but he has a pretty good theory as to what she's about to say. Here we go, he thinks.
"You really think that's chance? It all has to do with you, boy."
She proves his theory correct. She always was opinionated about me after the papers.
"You killed the Harrison boy, so now the Harrison's are killing back. That's how I see it."
At least she's stayed true to herself.
"Are you accusing the Harrison's of this?" He tilts his head to the side. He's getting tired of looking down at her face and her five-foot frame.
"I'm just offering up a plausible idea. But you- you should've just stayed away. You've sent the entire city into a panic."
When she realizes he won't be responding, she walks away after muttering, "Just because you're not convicted doesn't mean you're not guilty."
Vaughn sighs. Sometimes he wishes he was short so he could just blend into the crowd and disappear. But then he remembers it would also involve talking directly, face-to-face, with people like that. At least now he can look down on them.
Vaughn notes that Jasmine did not show, and he tries not to take it personally. But, her actions have been confusing him. First, he shows up at her doorstep and she says they can try to be friends again. Then, she gives him judgmental looks and rarely responds to his texts. And then, according to Tommy, she invites Mikaere, of all people, out to lunch.
She's mad at him. Why else would she be doing this? Maybe he should just stop trying to understand Jasmine. It took growing up together to break down her walls when they were younger. What would it take, now that they're older and hold more secrets, pain, and memories?
Later that evening, he receives a text from Mikaere, and he finds himself wearing a small smile on his face because of her thoughtfulness. He wonders how she's been holding up lately.
Then, he's thinking back to the day she showed up at his door and returned his journal. He finds himself shaking his head as he recalls the conversation.
"You...you did read it, didn't you?"
"Of course not, it's your journal that has letters to your sister, why would I read it? I mean, I obviously found the one note you left for me telling me what to do and everything, but I didn't read anything else."
She was supposed to read the journal. He had told Mikaere he wrote to his sister, and that hadn't necessarily been a lie, since he did write a few letters that he could never bring himself to send. Also, he did write down a few things here and there he wanted to tell her on random days.
But, he also wrote down things he had been scared to say to Mikaere.
Sometimes it was little things, like: "I wish I had the courage to tell you about my life," or, "You look pretty today." Other times, it was about his confusion in regard to the things he was feeling, the pages sometimes randomly littered with recipes.
All the things he would not have been able to properly articulate.
So, one day, Vaughn had ripped out the pages with the notes to Siara, folding them and putting them aside to give to her later. And then he had put the journal in Mikaere's bag with the hopes of her reading it.
But apparently, she truly managed to miss all of that and only find the final note. And then she came all the way to Juneau and returned the journal.
Incredible.
He nearly laughs at the way that worked out for him and doesn't know if he would ever have the courage to try and give her the journal again. Sure, they've had their share of nice moments here, too, but does she really see him like that? He's not so certain.
Especially if Jasmine has reached out to her. Jasmine, who has made it clear she does not approve.
But after what happened with Penny, Vaughn knows Jasmine is right. It's probably for the best.
A few days later, it's an abnormally warm night, and Vaughn stands out on his bedroom's balcony enjoying the sound of the swaying trees and rustling leaves. He has with him the new journal, courtesy of therapy, and he's thinking of what he could write following the funeral.
He gets a text, then, and he expects it to be Si. Tommy, maybe. But instead, it's Mikaere, again, and Vaughn feels his heart start to race slightly.
Why is she texting him?
He sees that it's an image file, so he opens it, and immediately is overwhelmed with emotion.
She's sent him images of Moose that she had taken at the cabin. Some are just of him - mid-jump and mouth open as he lunges for a marshmallow, or belly up as he rolls in the freshly fallen snowflakes. Others are of Vaughn with him - the two of them walking side-by-side, or Moose staring up at him.
His favorite, though, is one he doesn't remember her taking. He didn't even know she had taken this many pictures at all.
But the photograph is focused on the canine's head as he sits, and Vaughn's hand is seen on the dog's fluffy brown head, petting him. Moose's eyes are closed in contentment, and his mouth is open in a sort of drool-drenched smile.
He looks so happy, and Vaughn nearly starts to cry, feeling the sudden and sharp pang of missing him. With the way the dog had always followed right behind him, sometimes it feels like he's still around, staying close. Sometimes Vaughn catches himself looking around for him, expecting him to be lying right beside him on the floor, and he has to remind himself that he said goodbye. It tends to happen the most when he's standing alone outside or going for a walk.
Vaughn misses having a dog, but he doesn't want to replace Moose so quickly. The only way he could see himself getting another soon is if he found one to adopt that was in dire need of a home.
After saving all the images from Mikaere, he reads her last message.
Mikaere: hey, i was going through my gallery and found these, so i thought i'd share them w you
He stares at the message for a moment before starting to type.
Me: Thank you for this. Really.
She replies with a no problem and a smiley face, and he finds himself making the smiling Moose photo his home screen, and the rest his alternating lock screen.
Sitting down, he rests his head against the balcony's railing, feeling the easy summer night's breeze brush past him as he stares up at the moon, wondering what to write.
What does he wish he could tell her?
His mind flashes to the boy who's clearly interested in her as more than a friend.
His pen hits the paper. You deserve so much better than him.
And then he thinks of himself. You deserve so much better than me, too.
And then, a few nights later, he writes when the pages are lying open once more. When he's just finished writing to his father and Ethan, feeling like he'll never escape it all. When he's wavering on all that he knows and questioning how she might see him:
I find myself doubting whether you could ever return my sentiments and feel what I feel. But then I think of how your eyes close in the glow of the sunlight, and how your smile always seems to grow with the clarity of the stars as night falls, and I realize maybe you feel more strongly than I ever could. I admire you so much for it.
He thinks of her bright, gleeful laugh, the one that makes him wish he were funny. I'm glad I met you.
His hand pauses at the end of the sentence. He might actually tell her that one.
...
a.n // double updatee<33 do y'all have any theories about this story so far ?? this is the final chapter for part 1 !!