"Something we were withholding made us weak, until we found it was ourselves." - Robert Frost

Memory Lane: Chapter Fifteen

As Tuesday night slowly ticked by, I cried myself dry. With no more tears to be shed and exhaustion creeping in on me, I drifted off to sleep only to wake up well past my normal school alarm Wednesday morning. Turns out, Aunt June turned off my alarm to allow me the sleep my body desperately needed after crying for hours.

Rather than be upset for missing class, I'm nothing but grateful that Aunt June gave me the option to stay home from school for the day. I don't know if I could have made it through the entire day, especially if that meant seeing Jesse this soon after last night. The guilt that pooled in his gray eyes as I started to break down has been constantly flashing through my mind and it's quite annoying.

He rarely shows emotion. So, when he does, my mind seems to grab onto those moments and keeps replaying them. All morning it has been a carousel of his smile, his guilt, and even the small pockets of worry that he showed going round and round in my mind.

Aunt June took the morning off to stay home with me. Neither of us felt it was the best idea to leave me alone with my thoughts after such a devastating breakdown last night. Not because either of us are worried of what I might do, but because she knows it's better to have someone with me to talk through things rather than be alone. I already feel lonely enough.

I haven't gotten out of bed since I stirred awake around 9am. I have no motivation to face the day today. No confidence to face Aunt June and the talk I know must be waiting on the tip of her tongue.

Still, the low grumbling in my stomach becomes painful since I skipped dinner last night and I force myself up and out of bed to get breakfast. As I walk into the kitchen, my bare feet barely making any noise on the linoleum flooring, I notice Aunt June in the living room with her legs tucked up next to her as she reads a book resting on the couch's armrest. With a quiet sigh, I direct my attention back towards the coffee and begin sifting through the mugs to pour myself a cup.

My hands find an old Virginia Tech mug off to the side of the cabinet, almost forgotten behind the mixture of Uncle Tim's favorite mugs and Aunt June's statement pieces. After pouring a large cup of coffee, needing to be reheated in the microwave since the pot was no longer warm, I take in a breath and make my way towards the living room. I know Aunt June is going to want to question me about last night. She'll want to know what spurred such a dramatic reaction from me, because it couldn't have just been a trip to the store like I had originally lied and said.

I accidentally announce my presence by stepping onto a squeaky floorboard and Aunt June lifts her eyes from the book. When her bright blue gaze lands on me, she gently shuts the hardcover and offers me a kind smile that sets my racing heart at ease.

"Good morning, you sleep well?"

My eyes find the clock under the TV stand; 11:29am. Hardly morning anymore.

"Clearly I did if it's this late in the day," I mumble. "Isn't wasting the day away a sign of depression?"

Aunt June lets out a small laugh at my (partial) joke. "Letting your body recover isn't wasting the day away. And it's not even noon, there's plenty of daylight left."

I take a sip of my coffee rather than respond, sitting on the couch next to Aunt June after she patted the cushion to her right. My body sinks into the old couch, causing my coffee to swirl around my mug.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good. Bad. Confused. Tired. I don't know."

She nods quietly, hands tapping the top of her book in an unconscious gesture as we both fall into silence. Then she points to the mug in my hands.

"Your mom got that for me, you know."

I study the mug, eyes following the faded letters on the front and the small scratches dotted around the maroon coloring. "She did?"

"It was her Christmas gift to me from her freshman year at Tech," Aunt June explains quietly. "Carol had chosen to stay back for Thanksgiving that year since it was such a long trip to come home. Ten hours to and from in that clunky car she had back then wouldn't cut it more than once or twice a year. Winter break was the first time I had seen her since she went off to school."

I stay quiet and hold tightly onto the maroon coffee mug with both hands, letting the mug warm my palms, listening intently to Aunt June's story.

"It was really difficult for me when she went away to college. We were only two years apart and she was my best friend. There were no cell phones back then to FaceTime or text day to day updates, just the occasional call back home from one of the phones in her dorm."

I hold the mug a little tighter, imagining the time when my mom walked through the bookstore to find the perfect gift for her little sister and settled on this mug.

"I remember you two being close," I admit in a quiet voice. "At least, when I was a little kid. We used to visit every weekend, but once I got older...we stopped."

She sighs, resting her hand back on her book. "That was when your grandfather passed away. Your mom took it harder than the rest of us."

I furrow my brow as I try to recall the way his death affected my mom, but I can't think of any tears or nights of sorrow from her. Maybe she was just really good at keeping it hidden from me.

"I remember his funeral," I say. "I decided that day how much I hate funerals... Mom had actually reassured me I wouldn't have to attend another for a while. I guess she was confident in everyone's health. But bad health isn't the only way for someone to go."

I clutch at the mug, teeth grinding together at my own sudden choice of words and quickly lift it to my lips to stop anything else from slipping out.

"Your mom hated funerals, too," Aunt June explains somberly. "Everyone does, of course, but your mom especially so. We held your grandfathers funeral here in town, you remember. But to your mom, having it here tainted her memory of Bennington."

"Is that why we suddenly stayed away?"

Aunt June slowly nods, trying to find the right words. "I think that's a large part of it. We were very close with our parents. I stayed here in Bennington after college. I married my high school sweetheart and got a house just down the road from your grandparents. Your mom met your dad in college and he was from somewhere down south, so it was harder to convince him to move to Vermont. When he did decide Vermont would be a good spot to raise a family, he preferred Wallingford over Bennington. So, in the latter half of our lives, I got to spend more time with your grandfather than Carol did. Neither of us thought that time would ever end," she explains softly.

I take in a sharp breath and nod, "I know the feeling."

Aunt June catches my eye for a brief moment and her lips tug into a sympathetic smile. "I know. Your mom's way of dealing with his death was to act as if nothing had changed. She felt that avoiding Bennington could help her avoid tainting the memories. If she stopped visiting then she could stop seeing this town without our dad in it."

I snap my eyes to Aunt June, my heart lurching. It sounds oddly familiar to my own philosophy on avoiding Wallingford and part of the reason I was trying to avoid moving to Bennington.

"I really needed her, though," Aunt June continues gently. "She was the only other person who understood exactly what I was going through when we lost dad. And I..." she trails off, pressing her lips together as she picks at the corner of her book.

"I resented her for leaving me," she finally admits. "I resented her for acting like nothing had happened. Next thing I knew, it was a year since we had spoken. Then another year had passed. And another... we just grew apart and never made up. Then it was too late, because she was gone too."

Ice runs through my blood and trickles down my body, causing my skin to break out in goosebumps as I watch the tears slip from her eyes. She hastily wipes them away and sniffles.

"I'm so sorry, Aunt June."

"I'll always regret never mending my relationship with your mom. She was the person I looked up to the most in this world and I never got to say goodbye." Aunt June quickly shakes her head and once again wipes at her tears. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sit here and cry. I think we've both cried enough in the last 12 hours. But it's part of the reason I was honestly relieved last night."

I furrow my brow at her. "Relieved? When you came outside to see me breaking down?"

Aunt June nods, the tears in her eyes now faded and instead replaced with her familiar warmth and kindness.

"I know that sounds odd. Maybe I should have been worried. But, I saw you blocking out their death just like she had blocked out your grandfather's. I didn't know how to help her then and I've been trying to find a way to help you now, but I still didn't know how."

"You have helped me," I reassure.

"Still, I was so scared you were falling into the same denial she was. Seeing you finally let some of that heartache out... it gave me some relief."

"I just thought it would make it easier to pretend like it didn't happen," I whisper.

"What happened last night to change that?"

I look away, following the outline of the VT logo on the mug with my finger. Jesse's face comes to mind, the sympathetic expression he held when he admitted to finding out about my secret. My stomach sinks and flips all in the same second when I think about him, and I push him out of my mind.

"I was forced to remember. But I had kept the thought of them- of that night- away for so long that it felt like a tidal wave crashing over me. I just sort of broke."

"You didn't break, sweetheart."

I smile slightly. "Thanks, but I did. At least it felt like it."

"How does it feel now?"

I sigh. "I don't know. Somehow I feel both lighter and heavier. I know that makes no sense."

She gently shakes her head, "I think it makes perfect sense."

"Maybe... maybe last night was actually healthy." I admit carefully, as if testing the words.

Aunt June stays quiet, letting me continue to sort through my own thoughts without trying to lead me down the path of hers.

"I hadn't cried about them since the funeral. I think I went numb to everything after that, and the scary part is that I thought I had it under control until last night. I guess I needed someone to break through for me to realize I was just in really adamant denial."

"Someone?" Aunt June echoes, her thin brows furrowed. "Like the store clerk?"

Her words hold a teasing tone that signifies she knows my drive last night led me somewhere completely different from the store. Once again, my thoughts go to Jesse.

"Or a friend sticking his nose where it didn't belong," I mumble.

Aunt June raises her brows at me, clearly wanting to question me further about whom I'm referring to. Instead, she settles on asking where I went.

"A support group," I admit. "But it wasn't my idea to go. I just... even being there, standing outside of it, opened up that floodgate."

"I know you went to therapy when you were living with your grandmother. You told me you wanted to stop when you moved here. But after last night, is that still the case?"

I shrug, "I don't think it was helping then and I still don't think it would help now. Last night was more progress than I had in the entire six months of therapy."

Aunt June nods, pursing her lips in thought. "Last night... which happened because of the support group?"

"Partially because of the support group," I mumble, "but not because I attended it. I didn't. I was just caught off guard by being there."

She cocks her head. "You didn't join? Then why did you go?"

I quickly sip my coffee, shrugging it off. "Someone took me there thinking it may help. I didn't join. I didn't want to. At least...not at the time."

"How about now?"

"I don't know. Maybe if I had been introduced to it in a better way. But I don't know if it would help." Aunt June remains quiet and I sigh, looking to her for guidance. "What do you think I should do?"

She lets out a long breath through her nose as she thinks it over. Her eyes find mind and she gives me a small smile.

"I can't tell you what to do or how to heal, Laura, but I do think you should give it more thought. And I agree with you about last night; I think it was healthy for you to let some of those emotions out." She studies me when I stay silent and frowns. "I assume there's more to it?"

I gnaw on my bottom lip, debating how much to tell her. It wasn't just that I was at the support group. I broke down because Jesse discovered a secret I wanted to keep hidden. Now, on top of coming to terms with this process myself, I have to navigate having someone else know.

I've already admitted that I didn't stumble upon the support group myself, but telling her that Jesse showed it to me would mean sharing his secret.

"I just have a lot to think about," I choose to say.

She nods, blue eyes soft and understanding. "Whatever you decide, Tim and I are going to support you and will be here every step of the way."

"Thank you," I say quietly. "For always being here for me."

Aunt June reaches out and tucks some hair behind my ear, her eyes shimmering. "You're welcome, Laura. You know, you remind me so much of her. In all the best ways."

A smile slips onto my lips and my eyes shine with pride. "Yeah?"

Aunt June nods and sets her book down on the end table, turning more towards me as she dives into stories of my mother that I had never heard and points out the similarities between us that I had never noticed. For the first time since I lost my parents, and potentially for the first time since Aunt June shut her out, we both open up and talk freely about both of my parents without fearing the gaps in our hearts.

---

As the hours ticked by, Aune June had to leave for work later in the afternoon and I've been in my room since still trying to process everything. Aune June and Uncle Tim ordered takeout for dinner since it was just the three of us, as Allen had a math team meeting until late tonight where they all ordered pizza for dinner together. Aunt June and Uncle Tim ordered extra for me, and I made attempt to at least eat some of it so their money didn't go straight down the trash.

As the sun began setting earlier, I made my way to the front porch and settled comfortably on the front porch swing with a thin blanket draped over my legs. Now nighttime has taken over the quiet neighborhood street, with the only bits of light coming from the warm glow of the porchlight. I listen to the steady wind whispering through the trees, picking up stories from the leaves as they travel through the night air, blending in with the cricket chirps and occasional bird song.

I've been going back and forth in my mind on whether or not to give the support group a try. I know there's the chance it does exactly what it's intended to do: help me heal. But there's also the chance it only makes things worse. And then, what Aunt June doesn't understand, is that there's another player involved. If I go to the support group, that means sharing more with Jesse. I didn't want to share anything with him in the first place.

I perk up when headlights cut through the darkness from down the neighborhood road, mixed in with obnoxiously loud music that makes me smile. Kendall pulls into the driveway, letting the song play out before she finally turns the music off and says goodbye to Allen.

He emerges from the car, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and jogs around, kissing Kendall through the opened driver's side window. Too lost in each other, neither notice me as Kendall backs down the driveway and heads back down the road with her music at full volume.

When Allen starts walking down the sidewalk and his feet hit the first porch step, he notices me sitting quietly on the swing and stops in his tracks. He blinks at me, blue eyes wide, and then quickly steps up the final few steps and comes over to me, fixing his glasses as they slide down his nose, greeting me.

"Little Laurier!"

I know he's been wanting to ask me about last night, but he respected my privacy and even covered for me today at school. The girls kept blowing up my phone asking if I was "feeling any better?" or if they needed to bring me soup from Panera to help with my "cold."

"Need I remind you I'm only 'little' by five days?" I grumble with a small smile. "And, before you even ask, I'm okay. I just had a casual break down, no big deal.

Allen sends me a flat look at my attempt to lighten the rather serious situation from last night. "Casual, right. Seriously, Laura. Are you doing okay? One minute you were borrowing the car to head to the store, and the next I came downstairs to see you..." he trails off, dropping my gaze with a small flinch as he recalls seeing me in tears.

"Despite how it may have seemed, last night was actually one of the healthiest things I've done in a while."

Allen eyes me from above his glasses, jaw working as he gnaws the inside of his bottom lip. "Laura, you were screaming inside the car as if-"

I put up my hand to cut him off, cringing. "I know. That's embarrassing enough to remember without you reminding me. But I needed to finally let something other than denial in."

Allen pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and they flash with the porchlight, shifting the confusion in his eyes to sympathy. "You're my cousin and I care about you. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm going to be okay. Before last night... I've just been trying to convince myself that if I didn't think about the crash, then I could pretend like it never happened and then the pain would go away." I sigh, looking out at the line of trees across the street. "For the first time in nearly eight months, I let everything through. I can't keep pretending the accident didn't happen. Otherwise, I won't move on."

Allen slowly nods, digesting my words. "I'm just glad you're okay."

I adjust the blanket to cover more of my legs as the wind picks up. "How was school, anyway?"

He chuckles, "Well. Kendall and Quinn kept nagging me to agree to ditch class with them to come back here and spend a 'sick' day with you. And Steven was wondering why you decided to play hooky without him."

I chuckle with him, glancing down at my phone that still has a few unread messages from the girls checking in on me. I think they each sent me a text every twenty minutes.

"Thank you for covering for me."

He nods to my phone. "Do I need to keep covering for you? You said you can't keep acting like the accident didn't happen... Does that mean you're ready to tell them about it?"

My mind shifts to the events that led up to last night. The look in Jesse's eye when he finally revealed knowing about my parents... even if only for a small moment, that sympathy is what I don't want to see in everyone's eyes as they stare at me. I'm not ready to be reminded of my tragic past every time I try to talk to a classmate.

I straighten up, still determined to keep the accident to myself, and shake my head. "I need to come to terms with it myself first. Last night was my first step, but I'm not ready for others to know."