Forget Me Not

Chapter 7

CHAPTER

SEVEN

BERLYNN

Watching the two amigos reconnect has tears forming in my sockets. Needing a minute to myself, I turn on my heels and head back into the kitchen to ice the rolls. Every once in a while, I make Berkley something from scratch.

One of our nannies had a sister who owned a bakery in town, and when she’d need to help her sibling out when she was short on staff, the three of us would bundle up and drive to her shop. It’s standing at the counter with her where I learned to make all sorts of crafted things, and throughout the years, she shared ingredients with me that make it to where I can give Berkley something homemade and fresh from the oven.

“It smells delicious,” I hear Aris say as the gentle noise of the door whooshing closed behind them reverberates throughout the apartment. To me, it sounds like thunder just struck, causing an elemental storm to rush down my spine. “Do you two still head over to Rachel’s and help her out?”

“We do,” I answer, keeping on task instead of turning around and facing him. It’s easier to have him in my home if I don’t have to see him standing inside of it.

“Scared of me, Berlynn?” Once the question leaves Aris’s mouth, one I previously asked him myself, Berkley snickers behind him.

Irritation replaces my dissociation technique. I twist my body around on my ankles, narrowing my eyes at both of them and pointing my spatula. “I’m not scared, I called you, didn’t I?”

“Because I made you,” Berkley singsongs, his snickering growing louder with each word he belts out.

“Oooh, burned,” Aris proclaims, reverting back to our childhood.

Snorting, I ask, “What are we, twelve? I remember the two of you acting this exact way before you hit puberty in your teens.”

“We’re grown men, Berlynn!” Berkley shouts, anger vibrating from him.

I immediately try to backpedal because this is still an issue for my twin. He’s prone to anger outbursts if he feels slighted in any way. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Berk.”

“Come on, man,” Aris says, stepping in between us. “She was only joking. We’ve got this. Sticks and stones, Berk. Sticks and stones.”

“May break my bones but words can never hurt me,” Berkley picks up, finishing the rhyme Aris started.

Aris shifts a worried eye in my direction before stating, “Damn straight, Berkley. “We’re big and we’re bad.”

“And we’re solid,” Berkley adds. “Nobody can tear us down.”

“We’re impenetrable,” Aris continues.

“We’re undefeatable,” Berkley whispers.

“As long as we’re together,” Aris prompts.

“Our backs are protected.” When Berk states that, his eyes light up and he throws himself at Aris. “You promised, you’ll never leave me alone again.”

My heart shatters at my feet. He’s never been alone, I’ve always been here, he just never sees me as anything more than the nagging sister. I hiccup as unshed tears clog my throat.

Aris’s head swivels in my direction and he sees the heartbreak written on my face. “You’ve never been alone, Berk. Look behind you, my man. Your biggest supporter is standing there. She’s never left you. Ever.”

“I know that! She’s my sister, she’ll always be there, but you’re my best friend, Aris. And you left me. That’s not right,” Berkley laments, his tone combative as he condemns his closest ally for abandoning him. I knew losing Aris was devastating for him, I just never knew to what degree that loss was.

“He didn’t have a choice, Berkley.” I step in before the wrecking ball that is our father can destroy this any further than he already has. “I tried to tell you that Dad did some bad things, remember?”

“I remember,” Berkley murmurs.

“Aris not being around, it’s his fault. Dad’s, not Aris’s.” I make sure to point out the facts so there’s no vagueness in my overview of how things played out. “He said and did some really, really bad things after you were hurt. Things that meant they couldn’t come around until some things were cleared up, Berk,” I explain.

“How?” he asks, and I find myself fumbling for words to help him understand—ones that aren’t too complicated.

“There were certain things I had to promise for him to stay away and not put you into a group home,” I surmise. “One of those things was that we stayed far away from the Davenports. If we didn’t, then he’d take legal action to have us torn apart. I couldn’t let that happen, Berk. You’re too special and important to me, bubba. I had to wait until I had conservatorship over you. That way, they couldn’t threaten to put you into a group home where I’d never see you again.”

“It hurt, but it was better this way. But the papers were finalized recently, which means he can’t force me to stay away from you, either of you,” Aris justifies. “But he’s still involved in some shady stuff, Berk. Which means we have to be careful and you can’t trust him if you ever see him again.”

“He’s mean,” Berkley grumbles, scuffing the toe of his shoe onto the hardwood.

“He is,” I agree. “Which means, we have to be cautious of our surroundings and stay away from him. You run and scream if you see him. Promise me, Berk.”

“I promise,” he vehemently swears—angry to the point where perspiration is falling from his forehead and pouring down over his temples. “I need to stay away from him.”

After the drama wound down, we ate our breakfast and decided to go to the dog pound. Whenever my brother begins feeling down and out of sorts, we head there and play with the animals, feed them, bathe them, and cuddle them. I wish I had the time to get him a service animal, but they cost up into the high thousands, and where we’re due to come into our inheritance soon, I’d rather have a yard and someone to help Berk care for it than for the dog to be forced to be leashed in order to stretch its legs instead of running freely.

I can’t stomach caging something so precious that’ll eventually help my brother smile and live independently again. Not that I plan on us ever living underneath separate roofs, but I’d like to be able to go somewhere and not worry about whether or not Mrs. Crockett is on the schedule for that day. From my research, there’s so much that is possible for Berkley and his rehabilitation if he weren’t tied to a location. I want that for him. I know that he always feels so alone and handicapped by what that stupid bitch did to him. Why the prosecution office hasn’t charged her with a crime has me stupefied. I know she has connections, and her father has political friendships, but even that shouldn’t protect her from answer for her crimes against Berkley.

While Berkley is playing with a mixed breed puppy, I decide that if I don’t ask the question, I’ll never get the answer. “Aris? What ever happened with that Angelica chick that nearly killed my brother? Why haven’t charges ever been brought on her?”

“Her lawyer refuses to let her answer any questions the police have for her. He’s used so many stall tactics that eventually, he’ll run out of excuses,” Aris answers, his tone tight and full of wrath.

“That doesn’t make sense, Aris. There were witnesses there. They saw what she did and heard her confess,” I argue.

“Hearsay,” he grinds out. “We’ve all signed witness affidavits, yet somehow, her case continues to get buried. They have associates in high places, Berlynn. It’s a disgrace to the penal system, but what it boils down to is politics.”

“That’s bullshit,” I spit out.

“Complete and utter bullshit,” he concurs. “Things are happening, Berlynn. I promise you, I will keep pestering everyone until I see some progress being made. It’s unfortunate that they’re happening slowly. I wish there was more I could do to make the wheels of justice turn faster. I just have to find the right hands to grease.”

“Karma will find her, Aris. Don’t do anything that could get you disbarred. I only wish I was the one dishing out a little payback.”

“Aris! Berlynn! Come play with Karma!” Aris and I look at one another, both of us wearing beaming smiles. If there was ever a hint or a clue at what’s to come for Angelica in the future, this would be it. She deserves every bad thing coming her way for what she did. Granted, for most people, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but unfortunately for her, she crushed that pill into someone’s drink who had a highly adverse reaction. And it breaks my damn heart that my brother may be chronologically the same age as I am, but he will never be there mentally. All that promise, gone as soon as she handed him that cup and he ingested the contents. There are probably some folks who feel he got what he deserved for taking it, but my response to that is they can go fuck themselves with a pitchfork. That hadn’t been the first time one of the guys accepted a drink from her at a party, so there were never any internal alarms sound off that she had spiked it with her prescription in order to help my brother ‘chill out’ and ‘relax’—medication that damn near tore his life from him.

I hate that woman on a molecular level that nobody will ever understand. If I weren’t the one solely responsible for his well-being, I’d go after her myself without any give a damns.

Aris and I sit Indian style beside Berkley, and spend the afternoon playing with Karma, making wishes that my brother will be forever this happy and carefree. Seeing him with this puppy makes me more determined to find us a home with a fenced in backyard where we can begin searching for his furry companion.