Fall to Pieces - Shari J. Ryan Page 0,65

AA chips.”

“August doesn’t drink,” Lenny groans.

Lenny knows, despite his lack of effort to be in Keegan’s life. I spent a lot of time in Keegan’s house when we were younger. Lenny knows I have spent my life trying to do good things, never falling off track ... until now.

Lenny’s worst fear was Keegan following in his mother’s footsteps, so I tried to save him from living through that again.

“This is my son’s handwriting, Diane,” Lenny growls with pain. “Go wait in the car.”

“Lenny?” she snaps. “Don’t speak to me that way. I am just as torn up about Keegan’s death as you are.”

“You don’t even know my son,” he replies. “I knew he was in trouble. I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. This is my fault.”

“What?” I ask, breathlessly.

“He told me he was going down a dark path. He told me you were taking care of him, helping him get better. That was years ago, August. So, I told myself everything must be okay since he hadn’t spoken about the issue since then. I figured the less I knew, the better off I’d be. You know—ignorance is better than knowledge. I was selfish.”

“No, you had already gone through hell after Karen’s death. It was too much. That’s why I tried to help him on my own. I didn’t know the disease was bigger than both of us.”

“Don’t you see what she’s doing?” Diane says, throwing her arms up into the air. “She’s convincing you that this is your fault instead of hers, Lenny. She’s a real con-artist.”

“Leave, Diane. Now,” Lenny yells again, pointing at the door. “Get out of my face.”

Diane looks appalled and surprised to hear Lenny speaking to her the way he is. Honestly, I’ve never heard Lenny so much as raise his voice.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see May smirking at Diane. She moves past our huddle in the entryway hall and opens the front door. “Go on, now,” May says.

“Do not tell me what to do,” Diane responds, sounding less inflated, less sure.

“I can call the sheriff if you’d like?” I croak out. “Leave my apartment now.”

“Shame on you, taking advantage of a weak man. Shame,” she seethes. “You’re the reason he’s dead, August. It will always be your fault.”

I already tell myself this. I didn’t need to hear it aloud again.

May lifts the first box and kicks it into the hallway. I don’t tell her to stop because there is nothing breakable inside the boxes.

I make my way over to Lenny and wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I failed you—I failed Keegan.” I’m not sure what thoughts are going through Lenny’s head, but he doesn’t respond to my statement.

By the time I release my arms from Lenny’s neck, May has gotten the last of the boxes out of the apartment. “Please leave,” she says.

Lenny, with a look of silent horror, and Diane, with a scowl, walk out of the apartment. May closes the door and applies the locks.

She takes me by the hand and pulls me over to the couch. “August, look at me.” I can’t. I can’t look anywhere but at the ground. “This is not your fault, and I will continue to tell you this until you believe me.”

It’s better not to argue. It will prolong the visit and moments of trying to lift my burden.

I’m not brave. I’m not courageous. I’m weak, and I gave up on someone who needed my help.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chance

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to having dinner with August tonight. I’ve been thinking about her a lot this past week and felt disappointed each night I didn’t see her at Kenny’s. Though, at the same time, I was glad she wasn’t there filling up on whiskey.

I’ve been sitting here at the bar waiting for her to show up. It’s just after eight, and I’m starving. I sent her a message, asking if she’s still coming, but there was no response.

Any level-headed person would have just eaten their damn burger by now, but I’ve been holding out hope that she had a last-minute thing at work and was running late.

I promised myself if she didn’t show by eight-thirty, I’d order my dinner.

Eight-twenty-five rolls around, and the door swings open. I casually glance over my shoulder to see who’s walking in, and I’m surprised to see her. I’m even more surprised to see the glassy look in her eyes, the stumble in her step, and the crooked path she’s