“Yeah. Well. I’m a piece of work, aren’t I?”
“Let me start over. Do you have bad news you want to deliver in person?”
He met Renee’s eyes then. Eyes identical to his. Eyes identical to Michelle’s. “No. I’ve just come to some realizations. You probably think I don’t come around here or don’t call much because I think I’m too good for—”
“Stop.” She put her hand on his arm. “I know why you don’t come around here. Why you talk to Mom and Dad just enough times throughout the year that they don’t think you’ve forgotten about them. It’s not because of you being famous. It’s because of Michelle.”
Devin looked at the banana bread crumbs on his plate.
“You started pulling away well before you became Devin McClain country superstar. I also know that’s why you can visit your friends in Muddy Gap and Rawlins and drive right past here.”
“Like I said, Renee, I ain’t been up for brother of the year for a lot of years.”
She was quiet for a moment. “During those two years Michelle was so sick, you never let your friends know how bad it was, did you?”
He shook his head.
“So they didn’t know why you dropped out of all your activities?”
“No.” He’d come home every day after school to be with her. His biggest fear was the day he’d get home and Michelle wouldn’t be there. After that happened . . . he stayed away from home as much as possible.
“Then, after she died—at least with them—you bounced back to being charming, fun-loving Devin Hollister. I bet even now if I asked Kyle Gilchrist or Hank Lawson or Eli Whirling Cloud or Bran Turner or Reese Davidson about that time, they never saw the broken part of your soul.”
“Mostly because they were goin’ through rough times of their own. Kyle almost died in a motorcycle accident. Hank, Abe and Celia lost both their parents at once. Eli’s dad went to jail. Bran watched his grandparents’ health failing. Reese enlisted to avenge his brother’s death. It’s harder for people to know what to say or what to do when it’s a kid who dies, so no one brought it up with me. I think the fact we could put all that sorrow, avoidance, hurt and anger aside, at least when we were together, it’s what’s kept us friends throughout the years.”
“I don’t disagree. But . . . you wouldn’t speak of Michelle even to us. Mom and Dad were so lost in grief for two years after Michelle passed that by the time they came out of it, you were gone.”
Sometimes when Devin was really feeling sorry for himself, he felt he’d lost both his sisters and his parents that year. Renee had her own life with Chuck. Mom and Dad had each other. Devin had no one. But that’s when he found music. “I don’t have any resentment toward them for that.” He paused. “Do they know that?”
“I think so. But I’m sure they’d like to hear it from you.”
“I . . .” He inhaled and blew out a puff of air. “I’ll keep that in mind. I plan to swing by and see them today.”
“That’s progress.” She paused. “Do you resent me?”
He frowned at her. “Why would I resent you?”
“Because I was so wrapped up in my new husband and trying to be there for Mom and Dad, even when they shut me out, that I didn’t have enough energy left for you. I shoved aside how awful it must’ve been for you, having them shut you out too—but you had to live with them.”
“It was like livin’ with ghosts,” he said softly. “They were shells of who they’d been. The house was so . . . quiet.”
“That breaks my heart. You were just a kid yourself. I had my own place and didn’t have that loss constantly in my face.”
“Didn’t mean it wasn’t there.”
“You were closer in age to her than I was. Your rooms were right next door to each other. I can’t imagine having to walk past her room, knowing Mom and Dad had left it exactly as it was before she . . .”
Devin hadn’t ever gone back in her room. And when his parents decided to sell the house and asked him if he wanted anything of Michelle’s, he still couldn’t face stepping foot in the place that was her safe haven.
“She was so lucky to have you.” Renee attempted a watery smile. “She thought you hung the moon and stars.”
“I did. Literally. Remember that damn solar system she had to have hanging above her bed?” He pointed at her. “You bought it for her. She worshipped you, Renee.”
“It was mutual,” she murmured. “I remember being so annoyed when Mom and Dad told us they were having another baby. I was thirteen and totally icked out by the idea they’d had sex. Then they brought that screaming, pink bundle home from the hospital and I fell in love.”
“You carried her around everywhere like a princess. And I mostly ignored her until she started to do tricks.”
Renee laughed. “She would do anything to get your attention.”
“She was such a pain in the ass sometimes.” And then she was gone. For the first two months after she’d died, he’d beaten himself up, remembering all the times he’d been impatient and mean to her before she’d gotten sick.
“It’s good, us talking like this.”
“Yeah. It’s been . . . hard for me to remember the good times before everything changed.” He spun his coffee cup. “How did you deal with it?”