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Chapter Two

Kinsley

After Tanner left, I showered, got dressed and reheated the coffee he had distracted me from drinking earlier. Getting myself comfortable on my bed, I grab the journal out of my bedside table. Once again, I start at the beginning hoping that this time when I read it, I will find some answers. You’re being ridiculous Kins, you have read this journal in its entirety hundreds of times.

It’s true, my mother gifted me this journal for my twelfth birthday and the amount of times I have read it over the past ten years is more than I would like to admit. But something keeps pulling me back. There has to be something, somewhere in here,, that will give me the answers I am so desperate for, why else would she give it to me? I’m five journal entries deep when there is a knock at the door.

The downstairs door unlocks and then closes again. “Meadow, you home?” This time, it’s someone I actually gave a key to.

The sound of my childhood nickname causes me to choke on my breath momentarily. On any other day, I wouldn’t even blink at the mention but today … today is different. If I close my eyes really tight, I can almost imagine the footsteps moving through my apartment are my brother’s. I rub at my chest. Don’t do this to yourself, Kinsley.

Kyle – my older brother, had always called me Meadow, well as far back as I can remember anyway. He said it was because, from the day I could walk I would toddle out into the front garden and play in the flowers. Then, as the years went by and I got more adventurous, I would sneak through the garden gate and into the meadow with the horses. A smile graces my lips at the memory, the most beautiful wildflowers would grow there; sometimes when the breeze hits me just the right way, I can still smell them on the wind.

“Upstairs,” I call out.

I slip the journal back into my bedside table and sit cross-legged in the middle of my bed. Jesse’s footsteps grow closer as the tall blonde goofball I call my best friend comes into view.

Jesse dives onto the bed, the smell of freshly mowed grass and brown sugar — a weird combination but it fits him perfectly — sweeps over me as he playfully pins me down like an animal.

“Get off me,” I laugh.

A huge smile wraps across his face. “Happy birthday, glad to see you’re already up and dressed. Come on, we have heaps to do today.”

I sit back up, puzzled for a minute. Jesse is already off the bed and walking back towards the stairs. “What do you mean,” I ask. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he says with a wink over his shoulder. Bastard.

Jesse’s friendship is a breath of fresh air, grounding me, filling my lungs and allowing me to breathe. I scramble off the bed and race down the stairs behind him. I haven’t eaten yet, and I still haven’t turned my phone back on to return the phone call from this morning. Regardless, this is my best friend and if he has plans I will tag along, no more questions asked. When I get to the front door I slip on my boots and grab my coat.

“Your chariot awaits my dear,” he mocks, holding out his arm like I’m a princess leaving a castle.

“Dickhead,” I laugh and walk out the door.

I’ve known Jesse all my life, well for as far back as I can remember anyway. He was best friends with my brother, and when Kyle passed away Jesse kind of took me under his wing. I think I may have even stayed with him and his mum for a little while there.

I was only eight when my life turned upside down and even though the boys were only three years older than me, they had always been the ones I looked up to. Dad was always busy at work and Mum seemed to always have somewhere she needed to be. I sigh at the memory of my childhood and a knot begins to form in the pit of my stomach. It’s all such a blur, but I do remember spending a lot of time with Jess and his mum. I don’t know how I would have survived without them when I lost Kyle.

Jesse pulls me out of my thoughts. “Here, these are for you. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet?” He passes me a box from my favourite bakery. I can’t hide the smile on my face when the smell hits me. I grab out a croissant for myself and wave another one in the air. “Open.” I tease and shove one into his face.

We both laugh, except Jesse’s is muffled by the pastry. I put on my seat belt, wriggling to get comfortable in my seat. I have no idea where we are going, but I do know where I don’t want to go. Thirty minutes into our trip I realise where the road is taking us, and sure enough it’s exactly where I didn’t want to go. I should’ve known Jesse would want to come here today, we do every year.

Glancing over my shoulder to the back seat, there are a bunch of flowers and an esky. “Tell me there’s beer in the esky, Jess.”

He raises a brow, now knowing that I know where we are going. “There’s beer in the esky,” he sighs.

We pull into the cemetery car park, the gravel crunches underneath the tyres and Jesse drums his fingers on the steering wheel … Well at least it’s a nice day. Jesse grabs the esky and the flowers before we walk over to where my brother, my mother and my father are buried. The contents of my stomach churn at the sight of my family laid out in front of me. I fight back the tears threatening to fall, and Jesse squeezes my shoulders. He places the flowers down in front of Kyle’s headstone and I grab out three beers.

Looking up I pass him two of them. “One for Kyle too,” I say and Jesse nods. He places one down next to the flowers and cracks the other open. I follow suit, even though it can’t be later than about 11am. My phone is still turned off and I can’t bring myself to ask Jesse what the time is. Like it matters what time it is anyway.

Pressing the sharp edges of the beer cap into my thumb, the pain begins to ground me. I’m standing here on the twelve-year anniversary of my brother’s death, on my birthday. I almost laugh, it sounds just as far-fetched as it feels. I guess I can drink a beer if I want to.

A big oak tree shades over this part of the cemetery, its branches resembling arms stretched out wide to welcome everyone in. Jesse walks over and slides down against the trunk of the tree. I follow and sit down between his legs, resting my head back against his chest. We sit silently for a while before it hits me. I’ve lived longer without my brother than I got to live with him. My chest tightens as my mind begins to spiral with all the things Kyle has missed out on.

His first serious girlfriend.

Graduating from school.

Marriage.

I wonder what he would be doing with his life right now?

I shuffle around slightly. “He never even got to drink a beer.” Jesse’s eyes sparkle and a laugh comes from deep in his belly.

“Okay, spill!” I gasp, spinning completely around to face him front on. “How do you still have stories that I haven’t heard? Even after all these years.”

Jesse rests his head back against the tree, closing his eyes. “It was our tenth birthday. Do you remember it? We had a joint party.” He opens one eye to look at me briefly before closing it again. “Anyway, all our friends had gone home, you were already in bed and our parents were having a few drinks around the fire. We came up with a plan that I would distract the grown-ups so Kyle could crawl over to the esky and pinch a beer for us to share.”

“How did you distract them?”

A smile graces his lips as he continues the story. “I told them I wanted to show them a new dance routine.”

“Dancing?!” I exclaim, the smile on my face reaching ear to ear. Dancing was my thing. Every time we had guests I would sit them all down, bring out my CD player and make them watch a dance routine I had spent the whole day putting together.

We sit for what feels like hours, watching the shade of the oak tree move slowly, sharing stories and reminiscing about our shared childhood. After a while, I stand up brushing the leaves and dirt off my ass. “Where to next?” I ask.

Running his hand through his wavy blonde hair, he speaks with a forever playful tone in his voice, “What makes you so sure we aren’t just going back home?” The raised brow gives him away, he is so full of shit.

“Because we have ‘ heaps to do’ today.” I mimic his earlier statement. Picking up the esky, I turn to walk back towards the car.

“Wait up,” Jesse yells. I don’t stop though, nor do I turn to look back. I’ve spent enough time here today, the small beads of sweat beginning to form on the back of my neck are a telling sign to get the hell out before I crumble.

Back in the car, I grab my phone out of my purse as Jesse slumps down into the driver’s seat beside me, I can feel his eyes on me, watching me stare at the blank screen. Turn the damn thing on Kinsley, you can’t ignore this forever. It’s not even something I want to ignore, I haven’t had any leads, from the Private Investigator I hired, for months now. I look up at Jesse and hand him my phone. He powers it on, not even questioning me. This guy knows me better than I know myself, sometimes it kind of scares me.

“Three missed calls, one voice mail, all from an unknown number,” he says.

I nod, letting him know to play the voicemail.

“Miss Fallon, my name is George Watson. I have some information that I need to share with you. I cannot leave you my number, however, I can make another attempt to call you again tomorrow.”

My lungs scream at me to let out a breath and I offer Jesse a tight smile. He hands my phone back to me, turning his focus to driving. Driving to G od knows where. I’m just glad he isn’t asking any questions.

When the car hits a pothole in the road I startle, I must have passed out. I tend to do that on days where I allow myself to remember, to feel . It takes a physical toll. My stomach rumbles and I glance down at my phone, it’s close to 3pm. We have been driving for almost an hour. Where the hell are we? Almost like reading my mind, I feel Jesse’s eyes on me.

“ Welcome back, Meadow,” a teasing voice says from beside me. He pulls over, parking the car on the side of a dirt road. I sit up and look around, still half dazed before I realise where we are. “Bring your coat, we need to walk the rest of the way.”

“Wait, Jesse! It’s trespassing …” I whisper-shout, even though no one is around.

Ahead of us a long dirt road winds through the scattered gum trees, with a little man-made track to the right. The type farmers would use to access paddocks or graze cattle in a drought. Rolling hills line the horizon and the tree line continues off the roadside, scattering through the paddocks that surround us. I’m home . Memories flash through my mind.

“Higher, Daddy, higher,” I giggle. Clinging with all my strength to the ropes of the tyre swing. Looking out over the rolling countryside, I feel like I’m flying. “One more push then I really need to go to work, Meadow,” he says, as he pulls the swing back before pushing me forward. The rush has me squealing. With each swing I try to see beyond the horizon, as if the higher the swing could take me, the further I could see. “See you tomorrow, darling,” Dad calls as he walks over to his car, “I should be home for dinner.”

I pull myself out of one of the last memories with my dad; my final happy memory with him. Scrambling out of the car and shrugging on my coat, Jesse has already turned right, walking up the track that follows the boundary of my childhood farm. From where the car is parked the house is only five hundred metres straight ahead. Though you can’t see it through the trees. I jog to catch up to him as he climbs over a gate into the paddock, which sits behind the house.

“It might not even be there anymore,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

But what if it is? What if the one place that holds so many memories is still sitting there? My body begins to shake and despite the cold, my hands are clammy. This is too much, I’m too vulnerable at this moment. Flashbacks come flooding back of the countless sunrises and sunsets, I have watched from the very secret spot Jesse is now taking me back to.

I take a moment to calm myself, counting my breaths in and out. Standing here, in the silence, I can almost hear Mum and Dad’s voices calling me in for breakfast. Wouldn’t that be a sight for sore eyes.

I walk further into the paddock. Allowing the long golden strands of wispy grass to tickle my palms. Then I see it. My secret place ; the concrete tank that I spent so many hours on. Countless sunrises, sunsets and nights spent under the stars. I would watch the whole world pass by when I was up there.

It was my escape.

My fingers wrap around the steel ladder, and adrenaline shoots through my veins. When I reach the top, Jesse is already there pulling things out of his backpack. The cold concrete bites at my skin through my jeans when I plop down beside him. Being the middle of winter, the sun will set soon and with it will come a chill you can feel deep in your bones. “Whatcha got there?” I quirk a brow towards him. Please be food .

“Well …” he starts in his matter-of-fact voice, brace yourself Kins he’s about to hang shit. “Whilst you were having your Nanna nap, I decided to grab us some lunch … which has now turned into dinner.”

I flip him the bird, taking in the spread of food. Cheese, crackers, dip, and twiggy sticks, I laugh as I grab one. “These were Kyle’s favourite.”

“I know,” he says and he grabs us both another beer. The look in his eyes says everything that he doesn’t put into words. An apology for all the pain I feel, the pain he has no reason to take accountability for. It all swirls behind his emerald gaze. “Happy Birthday, Meadow.”

A single tear falls down my cheek, and I smile. A real smile. “Thank you, Jess.”