Memories have a way of bringing places to life because even after the people are gone, the moments remain, lurking there along with the feelings they leave behind. In a way, this means every home that houses or ever has housed people is haunted.
Like Hunter's room, the memory of my heart-shattering on that summer day or the huge fight that fateful New Year's Eve night leaves the room haunted by our heartbreaks of the past.
Then there's the barn...
Every memory I have with Oliver in that barn is beautiful and sweet, or it was. All the promises made there ended up broken, and now all those sweet memories are bittersweet. Our old secret spot is now haunted by broken promises and crushed dreams.
Then, other places are simply full of happy memories, haunted in good ways.
The duplex Oliver once called home is one of the places. We were all just kids on the many days we hung out here. I read while they played video games, all of us annoying Kris until she booted us out, and then we'd go bug Shar next. This place is haunted by all the wonderful the three of us shared making me happy and hopeful.
It's like walking back into the good old days, literally. Yellow-stained linoleum floors and all. I see us then, Oliver sitting on the counter while I make brownies from a box. Hunter is reading me the directions as I go. Oliver starts rummaging through the cupboard and finds some chocolate teddy grahams.
"Olly! I'm about to make brownies!"
"I can't wait until then."
"He's like a bottomless pit," Hunter chuckles.
We are all silent as we walk in, taking it in, all of us lost in our heads. I'm sure we each have special memories we like to visit. I wonder how many of them are the same memories or are they all unique what we hold special in our hearts?
"The kids didn't destroy this one as bad," Oliver breaks the silence and shakes us all from our thoughts.
"What's your plan? Demolishing everything, or?" Hunter prompts.
"Yeah, everything is a gut," Oliver agrees. "I'm changing them from side-by-side duplexes to side-by-side studio fourplexes, but I'll be adding on a second level for a medical office for onsite needs, attached to an apartment for the caretaker to live on site."
"This sounds like a lot of reconfiguring," Hunter comments. "You have the load-bearing walls figured out yet?"
"My dad does," Oliver explains. "He won't be able to get the guys on the build for a while anyway, but I'm anxious now that I have the approval."
"I get it," Hunter says as he steps over and opens one of the cabinets. "You want us to salvage cabinets to save money? These are real maple, in great shape still."
"Please," Oliver agrees. "Doors, too."
"Smart," Hunter says. "I have a woman on my crew who does an amazing job restoring old cabinets. She can sand, paint, and make these modern quickly."
"I'm sure James has that handled..."
"I thought you said you didn't have enough people or time for simultaneous projects?" I remind Oliver, and he shoots me a look.
"Let's just get through today, and we'll talk later," Oliver mutters.
I smile proudly, and Hunter just rolls his eyes tiredly.
"So where do we start?" Hunter asks.
"I guess the kitchens as good a place as any," Oliver says.
"Why don't you help me with the cabinets," Hunter suggests to Oliver.
"Alright."
"What should I do?" I ask.
"Can you clean up the garbage from the living room?" Oliver asks. "We'll set anything we're salvaging in there, and the garage can go in the backyard for now. We'll get some dumpsters tomorrow."
"Clean up trash?" I grumble as I kick a can from under my feet.
"Every little bit helps, Darlin," Hunter says teasingly. "Ready, Oliver?"
I roll my eyes in annoyance as I head to Hunter's truck to grab a garbage bag. I decide today is the last day I'm coming to help if I'm the trash picker upper.
Oliver is carrying one of the cabinet doors into the living room as I walk back in with a trash bag. He sets it against a wall and then glances at me.
"Hey, Kinz?"
"What?'
"What elements are this cabinet composed of?" he asks.
I stare at him dumbly for several moments until I finally remember.
"Oh god," I snort with laughter as it hits me.
"Well?" he prompts as he smirks at me.
"Shut and it." I quip, making us both laugh.
When I have the living cleared of junk, I glance over and see the guys are making good progress in the kitchen. They have the faces off and are now working together on the cabinets.
Oliver is holding it up as he kneels on the counter. Meanwhile, Hunter uses a screwdriver to unfasten the thing from the wall, his thick brows crinkling as he concreates on his task. He gets it, and it falls from the wall once he does, but both he and Oliver easily take hold of it.
They carry it into the living room. Oliver lets out the smallest of grunts as he adjusts to the weight, his biceps flexing as he gets hold of it. They walk together, carrying it carefully, and as they lean down to set it down, I get an eyeful of Hunter's butt in his well-fitted jeans.
They stand and turn back towards me; both have messy hair and tiny beads of sweat forming on their foreheads.
Fuck, I gulp as they pass by me.
I have a feeling my dreams are going to be rated Brandi tonight.
**
Once they complete the kitchen, it's time for the fun stuff, wall smashing. We enter Kris's old room first, and Hunter ensures we're all fitted with hard hats. He shows me where to hit, and I get to take the first swing. It doesn't so much but dent the wall a little.
"Really hit it hard," Hunter says. He swings to show me, and we crack through to Oliver's old bedroom.
"Damn!" I peek through the new hole in the wall.
"Go ahead, swing it," Hunter encourages.
"Pretend it's Julian's face," Oliver adds, and Hunter chuckles.
I swing it hard, smashing it right through, and it's fun, so fun I hit it again and then again.
"I'm good at this!" I cheer as I step through the gaping wall to Oliver's old room.
"Wow," I hear Oliver mumble as he steps in behind me. "The old burn mark is still there."
"We almost got killed for that one," I comment.
"No, we almost killed ourselves with that one," Hunter corrects.
"We?" Oliver laughs. "I was not part of you two deciding to see if you could roast marshmallows over a candle."
"It worked!" I defend.
"Until the candle fell, and the carpet started on fire," Hunter reminds me.
"Kinsey knocked it over because she's a klutz," Oliver says.
"It's your fault. All we had left was marshmallows, Oliver. You always ate all the snacks," I accuse.
"Yeah, you did," Hunter agrees.
"I was a hungry kid," Oliver defends.
I'm not all that shocked they never changed the carpet, the owners of the houses never cared much. Towards the end when folks moved out no one new ever rented the vacant houses.
"Man, we had some fun movie marathons in this room," Hunter comments.
"Yeah," Oliver agrees.
"Mr. Mooney, always pounding on the wall," I add with an eye roll.
"Now it's our turn to pound on his." Oliver walks over with a sledgehammer and sends it crashing through his old bedroom wall.
"I can't believe we're about to see Mr. Mooney's' bedroom," I mock shudder. "Who knows what we might find."
As we step through, we only find a dusty boring bedroom, kind of a letdown. As kids, we had all kinds of crazy ideas of what the grumpy old Mr. Mooney probably kept in his room.
**
After several hours, we've done a ton of demolition in the first duplex house. Despite my earlier thoughts, I even agreed to come back and help Hunter more this week. It'll keep my mind off what's going on with Julian and its actually kind of fun. Smashing the walls especially.
The house looks so different now, no longer two side by sides one big and very messy space. There is plaster and debris literally everywhere though. Hunter and Oliver are currently hauling all the cabinets and doors into center of the house, and I'm standing here in awe of all we've done.
I lean down and start picking up large hunks of stuff, then tossing it into garage bags. They fill quickly. I'm reaching for a new bag, as I pick more stuff up, when something sharp suddenly cuts my thumb and I yelp as I jump up.
I see right away that my thumb is bleeding, and I feel dizzy at the sight. The room starting to fill with black spots.
"Oh no... don't pass out," I tell myself as I squeeze my eyes shut so I don't look at it again.
"What happened?" Hunter asks as he's rushing back in.
"Kinsey? You, okay?" Olly is asking at the same time, and my head whips from one to the other.
They're both in front of me at once, making me as woozy as the blood coming from my thumb, I'm afraid to look and see how bad it is.
"I'll get the first aid kit," Oliver is saying, and I hear his footsteps walking away.
"A first aid kit? How had it is?" I panic.
"Let me see it, Darlin," Hunter takes my hand in his. "Looks like you nicked your thumb is all. I told you to leave all this stuff on the floor."
"I forgot," I say sheepishly, my cheeks red as I look anywhere but towards my injured hand. "Am I going to lose my thumb?"
Oliver snickers and Hunter chuckles. Seriously? Laughing at me while I'm gravely injured?
"It'll be just fine," Hunter assures me.
"Told you she was going to get hurt," Oliver chides.
"Now is not the time for told-you so's, Oliver," I huff. "I could lose my thumb or even bleed to death."
"No one has ever bled to death from a thumb cut," Oliver assures me, and my eyes fall back to him; he has a first aid kit in his hands, and Hunter is grabbing stuff from it, and I don't dare look at the blood. I'll faint for sure if I do.
"You can't possibly know that." I argue with Oliver instead, and then wince as I feel some pressure and then a woosh of liquid over the wound, it stings a little but not too bad.
"I can say with like ninety percent certainty" Oliver counters.
"Then there is a ten percent chance I could die."
"No, there isn't. Not from that tiny little nick."
"You don't know that, Oliver. People have died from cavities."
"Not cavities - maybe bad tooth infections..." Oliver stops and shakes his head. "Kinsey, no one has bleed to death from a small wound like that, okay?"
"But how do you know?"
"I know you aren't going to bleed to death."
"How?"
"Because it's all done bleeding," Hunter answers for him as he secures a band aid over it and then let's go of my hand.
"It is?" I look at the bandaged thumb and it seems fine, not the huge bloody mess I expected my entire hand to be.
"Thanks for distracting her," Hunter says.
"Yeah sure. Should we get back to it?" Oliver suggests, and Hunter nods as he follows him out of the bedroom.
I stand there for a moment, watching as they leave. I'm still a little dizzy, but it has nothing to do with my thumb.
*****
After a long day of physical labor, my body is tired and sore, but it feels good, it was fun working with the guys. They continued to get along throughout the day, only trading little barbs here and there.
Hunter's old house may stir up some darker moods though, and I am nervous about that. We start in that house tomorrow, but tonight, well I needed one less thing on my mind tonight.
Many things have been nagging at my brain since I got home, but this one. I have to do something about this one, and so I am parking my mom's van outside the bar.
I made a promise to Oliver, but I need to break it.
I made some big mistakes with Brandi in the past, and she made some with me. But after our last major fallout sophomore year, we stayed friends. I feel strongly in my heart that she will want to know what Oliver is doing right now.
I have to trust my instincts on this, because the situation around it is fragile, to stay the least.
I see the lights are off. It's about ten on Sunday night. Brandi closes early when it's dead. I step inside finding the door still unlocked. The empty bar is only very dimly lit with the lights from behind the bar. I like coming in after close and having one with her, there's something so peaceful about a place once it's closed, it's like it relaxes too.
"Hey, Kinz," Brandi steps out from behind the bar. "One sec, and I'll get us some wine, grab a stool and let me lock up first."
I do that as she locks up and heads back over.
"Is Oliver here?" I ask as Brandi steps back behind the bar and leans down to receive a bottle of white. She pours a healthy glass for each and slides one over to me.
"No, James took the whole crew out for a late dinner earlier," Brandi replies. "Why? Something happen today with him?"
"We have a lot to catch up on, but I have something more important I need to talk to you about."
"You got your worried face on," she points out. "It's going to give you wrinkles."
"Ha," I scoff. "Listen, I don't know if this is good or bad, just that Oliver thinks he should wait to tell you, and I don't. As usual, we don't agree on something. This time, though... well, he can be mad if he wants. I think this is the right thing to do."
"Kinz, what are you on about?"
"Oliver is trying to get Billy out of jail," I say, hastily adding. "He doesn't know yet and doesn't want to get anyone's hopes up. That's why he hasn't said anything-"
"No," Brandi stops me, and I notice she's gone pale. "No. He can't do that."
"What do you mean, can't do it?"
"I mean, he can't," she stresses the word. "The timing right now.... no."
"Brandi, what is going on? Would it be so bad? He could help with Stephanie and the kids, and I'm sure they'd want him back," I point out.
"No...You don't get it." She fumbles for something under the bar, her purse. She reaches into it with a shaky hand and pulls out a letter shoved into an open envelope... "This... I got this a few weeks before you got here."
"What is this?" I ask as she hands it to me. I see the that the Nashville Tennessee State Penitentiary is the return sender and gulp as I open it.
"Just read it," Brandi says quietly.
As I read what the letter says, I shake my head ever so slowly. "This can't be right."
"Oh, it's right," she spits out angrily. "Happening soon now."
"No. No. No." I reread it, sure I must've misread it, and when I didn't, I feel my body growing hot with rage. "What in the actual fuck did I just read? This has to be a joke, a cruel joke, but come on!"
"No," Brandi says. "This letter is a joke. Hey Miss Benson, we sure hope you enjoyed the little bit of justice you got, we're taking it away now."
"How? Why?" My blood begins to boil as my anger grows. "Why the hell would they do this!?"
"You read it. It says he has shown true signs of remorse and change. It says they're all about rehabilitation," Brandi's tone is clipped, and her eyes are guarded, but I know she's dying inside. I know she has been since she got this God-forsaken letter.
Six weeks ago... she had been sitting on this news, dealing with it alone for six weeks. All that crap with James was just her way of distracting herself from this.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask her as my eyes well with tears, the anger mixing with a jumbled mess of empathy and even some guilt for her in all this.
"Don't do that. We aren't going to do that," Brandi says, and I quickly wipe them away.
"They suck," Brandi says bravely. Whatever emotion she is feeling, she has buried it. "They fucking suck. Our entire system is run by a bunch of old-thinking masochistic assholes, and it'll never change."
"Brandi ... it's okay if you're not okay just, please, talk to me."
"I am fine. If that asshole," she motions to the letter in my hand. "Even thinks about coming back here to this town. I will run him out of it so fast he won't know what happened."
"Believe me, I will," she continues. "But Billy... if Billy gets out now..."
She doesn't have to say it. I know what Billy will do.
The door opens, and I freeze when I see Oliver walking in. He looks from Brandi to me, and his eyebrows furrow.
"What's going on?" He asks carefully.
"Olly. You can't do it for Billy, you can't," Brandi says quickly.
His eyes darken with anger as he shoots a glare at me. I clench the letter in my hand so tight my knuckles are white as I try and reach Oliver with my eyes.
"Seriously Kinsey?"
"I know you're upset but, you don't get it, it's good that I told her," I stammer. "There stuff going on that–"
"I ask you one thing," He cuts me off. "One day later, you break your word, really?"
"I had to Oliver."
"No, you didn't have to," he cuts in again.
"Yes, I did she needed to know this!"
"You were with me all day, why didn't you tell me you were going to talk to her?"
"I didn't want to get talked out of it." I say with a sigh "This isn't about you, Oliver. This is about Brandi, she has been here for me all these years, and me her. You might think you know what's better for her than I do, but you're wrong."
"Not about this, I wasn't," he argues.
"Excuse me," Brandi cuts in and points to herself. "She is right here."
"Sorry," I mumble.
"I cannot believe you two are still fighting over me like you're my parents or something," Brandi says with a soft chuckle. "Oliver, Kinsey was trying to do the right thing, and I'm sorry but she was right here. It's good she told me."
"Fine, moving past all that," Oliver said tersely as he looks at Brandi. "My attorney friend said Billy has a great chance to get out. He said it's almost a sure win. We'll get sympathy and–"
"No," Brandi stops him. "It can't happen. Not right now."
"Why?" Oliver asks in a bewildered tone.
"The timing is not right."
"His wife and kids would probably disagree with you."
"I'm sure they would, but it's what's best for them," Brandi says.
"How so?" Oliver looks even more confused, and Brandi looks at me pleadingly, silently asking me to explain it for her.
I let out a ragged breath as I hand the letter to Oliver. "Because he gets out of prison at the end of this month."
I give Oliver enough time to read and say, "if Billy gets out, the first thing he does, is kill that bastard."
**Brandi's past story or least what Kinsey at that time knew about it will start to be told in the next two-three flashback chapters.
Some scenes may be triggering, and I will add warnings as needed to the top of any chapters where this might happen.