Blood Moon (3 page)

My mother must have seen something deeper in
my expression, because her eyes showed her concern. “Brooke, are
you feeling okay?” she asked.

Running my fingers through my long, wet
hair, I smiled slightly. “Uh, yeah. I didn’t sleep very well last
night. The guys at work wanted to take me out to properly celebrate
my promotion to detective,” I partially lied, not wanting her to
know that I’d been plagued with the same nightmare that had been
haunting me annually.

My father shook his head disapprovingly.
“Samuels, of all people, should know to take better care of his
partner.”

With a sly smirk, I cocked an eyebrow in my
dad’s direction. “It wasn’t just him. You have the entire
department to blame.”

I watched as my father’s warm smile reached
across the planes of his face, his sparkling eyes meeting mine.
“What are you up to this afternoon, kiddo?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve got the party at your place
tonight,” I said, trying to sound genuinely excited about it. It
fell flat, though. “But this afternoon, I was thinking I would go
and visit Bobby for a bit.” My posture suddenly slumped as my mood
shifted right back into my previous state of depression.

My mother’s hand reached back across the
table and found its way onto mine. “That sounds lovely, dear. Maybe
we’ll join you.” She turned to look at my father. “Wouldn’t that be
nice, Keith?”

I bit the inside of my cheek and squinted my
eyes. Hurting their feelings wasn’t something I intentionally set
out to do, but this was something I did alone every year. “Look, I
don’t want to sound unappreciative or anything, but this is sort of
something that Bobby and I do alone.”

Sad, my mother pulled her hand back slowly,
the smile fading from her face at my sudden refusal of her idea.
“It’s not that you shouldn’t go see him. You should. It’s
just…well, we’ve always spent the morning together. Just the two of
us, you know?”

“No, it’s fine. Of course I understand,
Brooke. We’ll stop by later then, okay?” Trying to hide her face as
she stood up, I caught the slightest glimpse of her glistening
eyes. Guilt consumed me, and I looked toward my father for some
kind of answer as to what I should do.

He placed his hand on my cheek and smiled
softly. “It’s fine,” he whispered so low my mother wouldn’t hear
him. “Well, we should get going. Make sure you’re at the house by
seven. Wouldn’t want to miss your own surprise party, now would
you?” He flashed his bright smile and winked at me as he stood.

“Definitely not,” I replied, rolling my
eyes. I stood from the table, my half-empty coffee cup still in my
hand, and walked with my parents through the kitchen and to the
front door, where I gripped my mom in a tight, one-armed hug. “I’m
sorry,” I whispered.

When she pulled out of the embrace, she was
smiling again. Though it seemed a little more distant and sad. “No,
sweetie, it’s all right. You should have your morning. Happy
birthday.” She kissed my cheek and walked through my door, followed
shortly by my dad.

Once they were gone, I tidied up my kitchen
before grabbing the keys to my white Mustang and heading for the
door. As was part of the tradition, I stopped at the flower shop
before I hit the highway. It seemed odd that a woman would be
buying flowers for a man in most cases. However, my case was
not
most cases.

The drive down E Roosevelt was quiet. I was
alone with my thoughts, and I felt bad that it had been so long
since I’d gone out to see Bobby. I used to make this trip more
often, but with my promotion, it was difficult. I crossed the
bridge and turned south on N Hayden Road until I saw the parking
lot. As I pulled the car to a stop, I admired the flowers that
spread far across the wide-open area. The overwhelming variety of
different species in a rainbow of color against the grass that
covered the ground was beautiful.

It was warmer today than it had been, the
rainy season over now that we were moving into fall, but I could
feel that slight nip to the air, despite the sun being out and free
of the clouds. The grass was starting to lose a little of its green
luster, the drier weeks having taken their toll on the vegetation,
but this was home. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. I loved
the desert.

My nerves grew, and my palms began to sweat
as I made my way down the familiar paths, taking a series of rights
and lefts that had become second nature to me. As I walked, I
inhaled deeply, appreciating the trees, both the ones that were
native to Arizona and the ones that weren’t. When I found our spot,
I slipped off my low-heeled shoes to feel the plush green grass
beneath my bare feet and sat down.

With a smile brighter than any other one I’d
sported all day, I sat in my usual spot and leaned against the cold
stone. The bouquet of wildflowers I had picked up on my way here
sat at my side, and the warm sun was beating down on me, keeping me
warm. “Happy birthday, big brother,” I whispered into the soft
breeze as it blew a tendril of hair across my face. “We’re
twenty-eight today. I suppose that’s something to celebrate.” I
turned my head to the gray headstone I was leaning against and
sighed. “Unfortunately, I can’t seem to get into the spirit,
considering the one person I want to celebrate it with most isn’t
here.”

Turning my body to face the solid stone
completely, I stared at the beautiful script that held his
name.

Robert Alexander Leighton

Beloved Son & Brother

October 26, 1986 – October 26, 2007

The irony of the dates engraved below his
name taunted me. The day of his birth—of our birth—was also the day
of his death.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrapped my
arms around my legs and rested my chin on my knees. “Mom and Dad
said they were going to stop by before the party. They actually
offered to come with me this morning, but I needed it to be about
us, you know?” I laughed softly, reaching down and uprooting a
blade of grass from beside my foot. “Mom didn’t understand at
first, of course. Not until I explained that it was something you
and I have been doing for as long as I can remember.”

It never even occurred to me that I’d begun
crying until I felt a warm tear trail its way down my cheek. “I
miss you, Bobby. More than anyone can even imagine. Not a day goes
by that I don’t feel your absence in everything I do.” With a
sniffle, I wiped my tears on my denim-clad knee. “I made detective
yesterday, and the first person I thought to call was you. I knew
you’d have been so happy for me.”

My wall of strength crumbled, and I began to
cry into my knees. The muscles in my back strained against the sobs
that wracked my entire body. Eventually, it seemed like too much
work to try to hold back my cries of anguish, so I wrapped my arms
tighter around my body in an effort to quell the pain that was
ripping a giant hole through my heart. It didn’t matter how much
time had passed; it never got any easier.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed through labored
breaths. “I’m trying to be strong…to move on, but it’s just…” I
sniffled. “It’s still so hard.”

Moving onto my knees, I pulled my fingers
through my hair, my eyes focused on the grass beneath me.
“Especially today, when everyone expects me to want to celebrate.
It’s all I can do to
not
think about how you should be by my
side during it all.”

A warm breeze picked up and wrapped itself
around me, almost as though Bobby was here with me. I closed my
eyes and allowed the feeling to overtake me, a few fallen leaves
swirling around my feet. Even though I knew it was silly to believe
it was him—or even a spiritual piece of him—there was a small part
of my subconscious that clung to that tiny particle of hope I had
left as though it was my lifeline.

The air around me felt comforting and safe,
and I figured that it was probably the best note to leave our visit
on. Still sniffling, I wiped the tears from my eyes as I stood and
smiled down at the headstone. “I should probably go. It’s a long
drive back home, and I have a party to get ready for.” I grimaced
at the thought, and I pictured Bobby laughing at me as I did. “I’ll
come by again soon,” I promised before turning away and heading
back to the parking lot.

Back in my car, I sat for a minute and tried
to get a hold of myself so I could drive home. I didn’t want people
to be concerned about me today or any other day, so I knew I would
have to pull it together. One look at the clock told me I had less
than six hours to make that happen, so I put the key in the
ignition and left the parking lot of the Green Acres Cemetery.

When I finally arrived back home, my
neighborhood alive with color from the various trees and cacti, I
couldn’t help but smile as I approached the door to my 1,100
square-foot South Scottsdale bungalow. I’d bought the house about a
year ago and fell in love with it. It was perfect for me,
especially the low-maintenance, grassless yard that was filled with
tiny stones and several different forms of desert plants that
needed little to no care at all. Most people wanted a large, plush
yard, imagining their kids running around in it, but that wasn’t
who I was.

I parked in the driveway and walked up the
path to my front door, and there, beneath the eaves of my little
light brown house, I found a vase full of white stargazer lilies
waiting for me. I knelt down and picked them up by the exquisite
crystal vase, pulled the huge blooms to my nose, and inhaled their
sweet smell. For the first time since waking up, I found my
happiness starting to shine through.

I unlocked my door and set my flowers on the
kitchen table before I removed the small card from the center of
the bouquet. I already suspected whom they were from, but the
written proof only lifted my mood a little more.

Happy Birthday, B

Love, David

I sighed contentedly.
Maybe the party
won’t be so bad after all
, I thought to myself. Okay, so it
wasn’t so much the party that had me excited—it was getting to see
David. His general empathy and compassion made him one of the
easiest people to be around. He cared for me as deeply as I did
him—quite possibly even more since he wasn’t guarded like I was. He
accepted me for who I was, though, and that was huge, given my
past.

While the thought of spending the evening
with David brought a smile to my face, that didn’t mean the party
itself wasn’t still going to be tough. In fact, getting ready for
my party was going to take a lot of preparation. Not just physical,
but emotional as well. It was no secret to my family and friends
that I didn’t handle parties very well, so to be expected to behave
like a normal person celebrating their birthday today was actually
asking a lot.

I would try, though.

I mean, it had to get better eventually,
right.

W
hen I arrived at
my parents’ beautiful home on Carolina Drive, most of the lights
were out, which was par for the course when it came to surprise
parties. However, knowing about the party did little to assuage my
apprehensions, and my heart continued to thunder in my chest. It
wasn’t typical for us to ruin a surprise party for others, but my
parents felt it necessary after what happened five years ago when
my friends attempted the same thing. To say I had a meltdown would
have been an understatement. It had been two years since Bobby’s
death, and I still hadn’t fully processed everything, which meant
that I was still in a major state of depression. It wasn’t good; an
ambulance ride and sedation were both required in order to subdue
me. I sought grief counseling after that, at the behest of my
parents.

Needless to say, two weeks ago, when my
father learned that the guys at work had decided to throw me a
party upon finding out my birthday was looming, he felt it only
right to forewarn me. He even offered to order them to forget it,
but I couldn’t let them down like that, and as much as I wanted to,
I couldn’t keep running away from it. It was upon my telling him it
was fine that he volunteered their house in North Scottsdale.

The house that was now dark. Hiding the
decorations for a celebration I wasn’t sure I was ready for. My
hands shook, and my apprehension skyrocketed. Breathing became
difficult, and I had to force myself to take a moment as I tried to
calm down.

My usual confidence gave way to the panic,
and I gripped the wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white,
and my heart continued to pound against my ribs like it was trying
its damndest to break free. Nervous as hell, I sat there for the
better part of ten minutes before the pounding of blood in my ears
finally subsided and my hands loosened their death grip on the
wheel, my fingers numb and starting to tingle. I inhaled a deep,
shaky breath and climbed out of my car, being sure to lock the
doors before making my way up the long path.

Even though the temperature had dipped, the
cool air making me shiver, I stopped for a moment and stood in the
dim porch light, taking a few more deep, cleansing breaths before
walking in to meet my fate. I counted to ten, pushing my hair back
over my exposed shoulders…then twenty, smoothing the satiny fabric
over my figure all the way down to my knees, adjusting the
strapless top and making sure I wasn’t going to be the victim of an
unfortunate wardrobe malfunction—wouldn’t that just be the cherry
on top of an already craptastic day? And then thirty, before
reaching the front door.

As the door swung open, the light in the
front room turned on, and I was accosted. “Surprise!” they all
shouted. One look around the room, and I noticed that everyone I
worked with was mingled amongst the crowd of my friends and family.
It was an oddly comforting feeling to have them all here…and
comforting wasn’t a feeling I was all too familiar with as of
late.