A Crowe's Song Page 25

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kenny

  My mom slowly opened my bedroom door, startling me out of my inner thoughts. “What are you doing? I’ve been calling your name; did you not hear me?”

  I glanced down to the brand-new journal in my lap, not having a clue how long I’d been staring at the blank page as if waiting for the words to magically write themselves. “I’m sorry, Mom. No, I didn’t hear you.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  I closed the journal and moved over to make room on my bed for my mom to sit. “Yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”

  She cocked her head and raised her brows, silently telling me that she didn’t believe a word I said. Her stare penetrated me until I began to question my own sanity, wondering if maybe there really was something wrong with me, and I just didn’t know it.

  “I’m not buying it, McKenna. You’ve been home for almost a week, and you’ve spent the majority of that time holed up in your room. Alone. You’re quiet, which is unlike you. Getting you to participate in even the smallest conversation is like pulling teeth.” Concern laced her voice, and it filled me with guilt—for what, I wasn’t sure.

  “I’m just tired. I had a long week, followed by an extremely long drive, and I’m trying to readjust to my regular schedule. It’s like my brain refuses to exit vacation mode.” I added a quick laugh to help prove that she had nothing to worry about.

  “There has to be more that you’re just not telling me. And that’s what really bothers me, because I can’t imagine anything you couldn’t come to me with. Good or bad. Did something happen with that boy?”

  Based on her tone, I assumed she meant something bad, so I quickly shook my head to reject that suggestion. “Not at all. I mean, good stuff, but nothing that I couldn’t talk to you about. In fact, I’ve told you everything already.”

  Not everything.

  And not that I couldn’t, because I could. I just chose not to.

  “I won’t lie…I’ve caught myself thinking about him a lot, so maybe that’s it. Maybe you’re misinterpreting my daydreaming as something else. But I swear that’s all it is, Mom. My head seems to perpetually be in the clouds lately, and I don’t know how to stop it.” I held up the journal as proof. “If it makes you feel any better, I can’t even put my thoughts on paper.”

  “When did you get that?”

  I stared at the picture on the front. It was of a brass steeple standing tall from the depths of calm waters. I’d stopped for gas a few miles from the resort, and when I went inside to pay, I saw it next to the register. It was the only one, as if it had been waiting there specifically for me, so I bought it. “On my way home from the resort. This is a picture of the lake. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  She nodded slowly, likely to buy time while she organized her thoughts enough to come up with another question. Which was proven when she said, “I didn’t know you wrote in a diary.”

  “I don’t, but after reading the one we found in Grandpa’s attic—and after my trip—I thought I’d give it a try. But I don’t think it’s my thing. I can’t seem to write anything. I just stare at the pages and daydream, never writing a single word.”

  “How many times have you tried?”

  I nibbled on the inside of my cheek while counting in my head. “I’ve been home for five days, so…five times.”

  Her eyes widened with shock I hadn’t expected. “Well, you said he gave you his number. Have you tried to call?”

  “No. What’s the point?”

  “Gee, I don’t know, McKenna…to talk to him?”

  I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t keep the smile from my lips. “I know, but for what? It’s not like we can date or anything, so I guess I don’t see the point in making it harder on either of us. All that would do is drag it out, and we both have so much on our plates as it is.”

  She shifted on the mattress to get more comfortable with her feet beneath her, mirroring the way I sat. “It won’t hurt to have another friend…unless, of course, there are deeper feelings between you two that can’t be ignored and won’t fade over time.”

  “I literally just met the guy, Mom. How am I supposed to know?”

  “Your grandmother told me once that when you meet people who are destined to be in your life—in whatever capacity—you just know. She said it’s a feeling that doesn’t make sense, while at the same time, making perfect sense.”

  I ignored the tightness in my chest at the memory of feeling that exact way with Drew and, instead, asked, “How is that even possible?”

  She shrugged, though her eyes were gentle and comforting. “To be honest, McKenna, I have no idea. The only time in my entire life that I’ve ever felt anything close to that would be the night you were born.”

  “You met someone at the hospital?” That was surprising, considering a lot had happened that night. Not only did she have a baby, but she also lost her mother. I couldn’t imagine finding my soulmate in that type of situation.

  Mom laughed and shook her head. “No, silly. I meant when I held you for the first time.”

  Well, that made more sense.

  “So you’ve never felt that way about anyone else? Like a guy? Not even my dad?”

  “I thought I did, but as soon as you were born, I realized just how wrong I was.”

  That made me ponder possibly the most important question of all… “If you thought you had it but found out later that it wasn’t the type of love your mom told you about, then really, how would you know before being proven wrong?”

  She put her hand on my knee and smiled warmly. “When your grandmother said you’ll just know, she wasn’t wrong. Not in the slightest. As soon as you were in my arms, I knew without a doubt that I had never felt that before—the intensity alone was enough to make everything else feel completely different. And I haven’t felt it since. When it came to your father, I think I wanted it to be true, so I convinced myself it was.”

  “What does it feel like?”

  Her smile grew wider, and her green eyes shined brighter. “It’s one of those things that you can’t explain. The best way your grandmother put it was…you recognize the person on a completely different level, like you’ve met them before but not in passing. There’s an instant connection, which doesn’t make sense. You simply love this person, without rhyme or reason, without a choice—without wanting a choice.”

  Her warm words lit my arms in gooseflesh. “Is that how she felt when she met Grandpa?”

  “No.”

  When she didn’t elaborate, I leaned forward and asked, “Then how does she know?”

  “She didn’t feel that way about my dad, but what she told me was that she experienced it when she was a teen, probably around your age.”

  “Wait…” I held up my hand to interject. “How do you know this? I thought she kept her past to herself.”

  “She did for the most part, but there were little aspects of her life she would share when she felt I needed to hear them. This particular story was told to me after we moved away. I had started dating a kid from school, so she thought it was the perfect time to explain to me how to know if it’s serious or not.”

  I was annoyed that she hadn’t told me these things sooner, but I was too intrigued to say anything about it. Instead, I leaned against my headboard and motioned for her to continue.

  “There really isn’t a lot to tell, McKenna. It’s not like she went into great detail or told me personal things about him or their relationship. All she told me is that she loved him from the minute she saw him, but she couldn’t identify that feeling until much later.”

  That couldn’t be all the information she had about it. “She never said how they met or what happened to him?”

  “No, not that I recall. Just that she fell in love with a boy her parents didn’t approve of, so they planned to run away together. Except, the night they were supposed to leave, he never showed up.”

  The tiny blond hairs on my arms stuck straight up, as if I’d ru
bbed a balloon against them. “This sounds just like the story in the diary. Which means it had to have been your mom’s journal, right?”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. I didn’t read any of the passages.”

  “Well, it has to be, because this sounds identical to what I’ve read.”

  “Were there no names mentioned?”

  I slid off the bed and ran straight to the duffel bag I’d dropped in the corner of my room when I first got home and hadn’t moved since. Although, after pulling every single item out, I realized I didn’t have the book. I began to panic, having no clue where it could’ve gone. The only thing I could imagine was that I might have left it at the resort. In which case, that would give me the perfect excuse to call Drew. All I knew was that I needed it back. Not having it in my possession gave me anxiety.

  “Did you lose it?”

  I shrugged and slumped against the headboard, completely deflated. “I must’ve left it there. Either that or I put it away and forgot where.”

  “I’m sure it’ll turn up.”

  “Yeah, hopefully. Anyway, yes…there were names, I just don’t remember any of them other than Bobby and AC.” I scrubbed my face with both hands, frustrated at the failure of my memory. I had read that diary like a romance novel, yet I could only recall that one.

  “No last names?”

  I racked my brain yet came up empty-handed. “No, I don’t think so. The entries were always short and vague. And sometimes, she would go days or weeks without writing. At the end, it skipped even more time and had become even more vague.”

  “Well, if that was my mother’s journal, then Bobby would be my dad.”

  I zoned out and took a few deep breaths. Slow inhale, even slower exhale. I’d always known my grandfather as Rob, so I never once connected the two when reading about a boy named Bobby. Probably because the author and AC weren’t familiar, so I didn’t expect anyone else to be, either.

  “Really?” I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all.

  She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know for sure, but his name is Robert Tisdale.”

  I stared at the picture on the front of my new notebook and traced the image of the steeple with my finger. All this talk of names had my mind swirling with unanswered questions. “How come I don’t have your last name? I mean, if my father was never in the picture, why give me his?”

  “Your grandmother asked me to. I wasn’t going to put him on the birth certificate at all, but right before you were born, she mentioned that I should just in case you ever wanted to find him—or if I ever wanted to claim child support. After I agreed to that, she said something about wanting the Tisdale name to end. I assumed that was because of how she felt about my dad.”

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. There were pieces of the puzzle not yet connected, and the nagging thought grew louder and louder. The problem was that I couldn’t ask anything, mainly because I didn’t know what questions to ask. Not to mention, there was a very slim chance that my mom would have any answers. If she did, she would’ve offered them already.

  The best thing was to simply move the conversation along and hope pieces either came to me later or vanished from my thoughts so I wouldn’t have to be continually pestered by them. “Speaking of Grandpa…how’s the money thing coming along?”

  Luckily, my mom didn’t appear to have whiplash from all my sudden topic changes. “The lawyer’s still dealing with it. From the sounds of it, it’s a legal mess. But at least I don’t have to figure it out myself. From what I gather, the income on his property is measly and paid out once a year, so it doesn’t look like that will help me much. The lawyer’s double-checking the fine print to see if we can sell it and just use the cash for his care.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I hoped this would be the answers to your prayers for help.”

  She smiled and squeezed my hand. “I appreciate that, McKenna. I thought so, too…but it seems like one more hurdle we have to clear before things get easier. I’m just thankful to have you. I know all of this hasn’t been easy to deal with, and I can’t thank you enough for sticking it out with me. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.”

  That gave me mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was happy that my mom didn’t have to go at it alone and I could offer her even the smallest support. On the other hand, it made me revisit the things Drew had said to me. Things about college and the ability to do what other kids my age got to do. I should feel lucky I’d been able to go on vacation for a week. But suddenly, that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted more. More time. More opportunities. More freedom.

  All the things I wouldn’t get to experience, thanks to my ailing grandfather.

  “Of course, Mom. I’ll always be here for you.” I smiled and patted her hand.

  She must’ve taken it as a signal to leave my room, because a few seconds later, she was slipping off my mattress and closing the door behind her.

  Once again, I stared at the empty notebook that I’d intended to use as a journal. The only scribblings at all were the numbers I’d jotted down so I wouldn’t lose them. The numbers Drew had given me right before I left—in case I wanted to reach him.

  It took me about ten minutes, but I finally grabbed my phone and began tapping out his phone number.

  Chapter Twenty

  July 5th, 1975

  Dear Diary,

  My heart is broken. Even though I knew this could happen, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. I just don’t know why he did this to me. And I don’t think I’ll ever get an answer, because I don’t know when I’ll ever see him again. IF I’ll ever see him again. I should be starting my new life with AC right now. But it seems I don’t have a choice in the matter. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this heartbroken.

  Emily sat on the steps of the church and watched as the fireworks exploded in the night sky above. She’d been looking forward to this moment for months, counting down the days to when she would finally take control of her own destiny.

  However, something was wrong.

  Andy was supposed to meet her here, in the exact spot they met one year ago today. Same time, same place. That was their plan. They would leave together before the celebration even began, ensuring they would have an adequate head start. Except Andy hadn’t shown up. Instead, she was left on the stone steps all alone.

  Déjà vu began to set in.

  Except this time, it brought about pain and heartache rather than fear and loneliness.

  She decided to wait until the end of the fireworks show; maybe she’d misunderstood the plan and gotten the time wrong. There was no point in giving up now and possibly losing any chance of being with him. So she held onto the duffle bag in her lap and kept her attention set to the road that ran along the side of the church. This way, she could see when he arrived.

  She never did see Andy, but she did see Bobby. Twice. The second time stranger than the first, and she’d thought the first was incredibly weird. It was almost halfway into the last Chogan fireworks show when she caught Bobby walking along the street.

  He walked alone with his head down, attention set on the pavement below his feet. He appeared to be in a hurry, almost frantic. And while Emily couldn’t see him too well, she thought he might’ve even been talking to himself as he tugged on his hair. That was what caused her skin to prickle the most—his hair. He’d always worn it perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, which was the complete opposite of what it looked like now.

  Replaying that in her mind had kept her busy until right before the finale, which had been rumored to be impressive and extra long to mark it being the literal finale. While she still wondered where Andy was and what might’ve happened to keep him late, at least she was no longer obsessing about it. She now had something else to occupy her mind. Even more so when she caught Bobby walking the other way, back toward Main Street.

  However, this time, he wasn’t alone.

  His grandfather walked next him with
his hand on Bobby’s shoulder. From where she sat, she thought it looked tense, as if his grandfather was directing him—pushing him—instead of simply walking next to him. Still, like the last time, Bobby had his head down, although his feet moved more frantically this time.

  Part of her wanted to find out what that was all about, but the bigger part of her wanted to stay and wait for her life to begin. She knew deep within her soul that Andy wouldn’t stand her up, especially not after talking to him the day before. He’d shown just as much excitement, if not more, than she had. Yet after waiting this long, her confidence began to wane.

  Finally, at the end of the finale, Emily got up and headed home. Eyes flooded with tears, no energy in her movements, and a sadness in her heart that she’d never felt before. But before she completely gave up, she decided there was still one more chance to run off with Andy, and that was in the morning before everyone left town.

  Except…he didn’t show up then either.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Drew

  I set the worn diary on the desk in the front office, startling my dad. I hadn’t meant to, but somehow, he hadn’t heard the heavy door open—or close—or seen me come around the reception desk. Whatever he was reading seemed to hold his complete attention.

  “What’s that?” I pointed to the stack of papers in front of him.

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

  I narrowed my gaze, calling his bluff. He tried to tell white lies, but his eyes always gave him away. The lines along his brow creased with the strain of untruth, and the corners of his mouth turned downward with suffering. The last thing this man needed was additional stress. I’d barely made it through his last heart attack; I couldn’t do that again. I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he corrected, as if that was a better explanation.