I sigh. “It happened right over there.” I point with my cane at the intersection, the left turn lane.
“What did?”
I swallow hard, set down my beer before I drop it. “The accident. Your mom’s accident.”
“Wh—what?” She’s up and backing away, off the step and into the grass. She looks at me, and then twists and looks at the intersection. “What do you mean, Ben? How—? I don’t even know what to ask. What was she doing here?”
I look up at her, because she deserves to see my eyes and see the truth. “She’d…she gave me a ride home after my session. I usually took the bus, but I’d tripped during therapy and my knee was hurting too bad to even walk to the bus. So she drove me home.”
Echo is as still as a statue, staring at me, her brows pinched together, a million emotions warring on her face. “But…they said she died at—in the middle of the night. At like two-something, or three.”
“Two-thirty-six. She died at two-thirty-six.” It comes out as a whisper.
“How do you know? Why was she here, Ben?” Suspicion, now. The beginnings of anger.
“It’s not what you think—”
She crosses the space between us in a few short angry steps, crouches in front of me, hands on my knees. “Then what was it, Ben? If it’s not what I think, then what the fuck is it?”
I swallow hard, clench my fists. “She was my friend. She…I’m alone here, you know? And I’d just gotten injured, my knee…” I rub at my knee. “Football is all I know. And I’d just found it was over, that I’d never play again. She’d told me about how she’d been a dancer, how she screwed up her ankle and had to stop dancing competitively. I guess it was something we had in common.”
She shakes her head. “No. Ben…come on, no. No.” Her hand covers her mouth, her eyes shining with tears.
“She dropped me off, and I—I asked her if she wanted to come in. We watched a movie. That’s it. That’s it. I swear.”
“Jesus, Ben. That’s my mother.”
“I know. God, I know.” I try to look at her, meet her eyes, but she shakes her head again and backs up, falls to her ass. “But I told you, we watched a movie and that’s it. We both fell asleep on the couch, and then she left.”
Echo’s eyes pierce me, pin me in place. “You’re lying. You’re fucking lying to me. Don’t lie to me!”
I push myself to my feet; walk past her, toward the street and the intersection. I stop at the curb and stare out at the left turn lane, the light shining red. “I’m not lying.”
She’s there beside me because I can’t seem to get away from her. “There’s something else. I fucking feel it, Ben.” She grabs my arms and turns me, stands chest-to-chest with me, looking up at me, her hands on my biceps. Her brown-gray-green eyes plead with me for the truth. “What happened, Ben? Just…just tell me exactly what happened. Please.”
I don’t know how to tell it. I don’t. I swallow hard and sigh hard and think hard. “I…we…we almost kissed.”
Echo doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of my arms. She just blinks up at me. “What? What do you mean, ‘almost kissed’?”
I duck my head and stare at the green grass beneath my bare feet. “We fell asleep, I told you that. When we woke up, there was this…moment…Cheyenne and I—we…almost kissed. We didn’t, though. She…she backed off and said she couldn’t. Because I was her client, and because she had a daughter my age.” I try to breathe, try to force words past my lips. “She got up to leave, and I could tell she was tired. I didn’t want her to go, because I could tell how sleepy she was. I was worried for her. She tripped, walking out the door, and I tried to get her to stay, and I swear it was just to keep her safe, to keep anything bad from happening. In the doorway, she stopped and turned around, and that moment almost happened again, but she repeated what she’d already said, that she couldn’t, that it just wasn’t right. She couldn’t. And I got it. I really did. And it was more than that…because I was so lonely and had been for so long, and with everything else I’ve—she was my only friend, and she was…your mother was a beautiful woman, Echo. A beautiful person. And…I tried to keep her from leaving, but she said she was fine, she’d be fine.” My voice breaks, there.
“Fuck. Ben…you almost kissed my mother? My mom? And then you kiss me?”
“Now you get why I stopped.” I choke out the words. “I watched her drive away. I stood right here on this step and watched her pull up in that left turn lane. The light was red, and I watched her car sit there until it turned green. The whole intersection was empty. I mean, it was two-thirty in the morning, and she was so tired…so she didn’t check for oncoming traffic. She just went. And this car…this red Mustang. It ran the light. It just…it didn’t even slow down, even though the light had been red for so long, you know? And…and fuck, I watched it happen. I watched that Mustang smash into her door. It came from her left. I don’t know how she didn’t see it. I saw it happen. I saw her door just…crumple. Saw her truck roll, and I ran over to where she was, and she was already—already dead.”
Echo just stares at me. “Ben…” she whispers, her voice cracking.
I shake my head. “I tried to stop her from leaving. I tried, Echo. I fucking…I couldn’t do anything—” I can’t take her silence, can’t take the agony in her eyes, can’t take the weight of my own guilt. “I’m sorry, Echo. I know that doesn’t mean shit, but…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Echo blinks, then scoots on her backside away from me, and I know how truly I deserve the anger in her eyes. She stands up, stumbles, rights herself. “I need…I need to think. I’ve got to—I’ve got to go.” She starts walking, just walks away.
I force myself to my feet. “Echo. Wait.” She stops but doesn’t turn to look at me. I go inside and get my keys, bring them back out to where Echo is waiting. “Here. Take my truck.”
“I don’t know where I’m going—” She has the keys clutched in her hand, though. “I don’t know where I’m going, or when I’ll—I just need to think—I can’t be around you right now. I’m too upset.”