I looked at the small smile that rested on my mother’s lips. "How did you know that?"
"Bailey, Yyu think because you moved away that I don't know you. But I do. I'm your mother. I know you better than you know yourself."
I shook my head in denial. "Mom, please."
"Do you honestly think I don't know the things you've done. I know it all. I know about the times Jackson climbed in your window when you were only fifteen. I also know about the time you claimed you were going camping with the girls, but really you went camping with Jackson for the weekend." She laughed.
I didn't know what to say, and I did my best to hide my shocked face.
"You want to know how I knew you were seeing him again?"
I nodded.
"Because, my dear, for the first time in years, I actually saw you smile again. You were finally happy."
"I've been happy," I said defensively.
"Really? Could have fooled me. Every time I've spoken to you over the last few years it’s been nothing but complaints. Complaining about the job, about Jim, about every single solitary thing. Bailey, do yourself a favor and allow yourself to be happy, truly happy."
I looked at my mom, who bent over and picked up her gardening tools and placed them in her bucket. Then I looked to the name written on the headstone, and a wave of guilt fell over me. "How can I be happy when my brother is dead. You have no idea how much guilt I carry from that night."
"Honey, it’s time to let it go. Your brother wouldn't want you to live your life this way. He'd want you to be happy. You need to honor his memory by living your life, not by racking yourself with guilt over his death."
"But, Mom, it's all my fault."
My mom became blurry as my eyes welled with tears, which I quickly wiped away.
"Bailey, we've talked about this many times, and I am not going to tell you anything you haven't already heard. You didn't do anything wrong. You were out with the girls."
"I know, but that night we ran into them outside of the bars. They were supposed to be doing security checks. They were almost finished, and Cara and I asked Jackson and Ryan to stay and hang with us for a few minutes."
"And you think this is your fault how?"
"Connor wouldn't stay. He said he'd go finish doing the security checks and come back."
"So, you think because Ryan and Jackson decided to stay with you girls that that was the reason he died."
I nodded, tears streaming down my face.
"If they had been with him, he wouldn't have needed to radio for backup when he came across the door that was open. There would have been three of them there when the guy came running out of the building." I could barely understand my own words as sobs wracked my body.
I felt Mom's arms around me as she pulled me into her. "You need to let that all go, baby girl. Just let it all go," she whispered as she rubbed my back. "None of this was anyone’s fault."
"You're wrong."
Mom let me go and placed her hands on my upper arms. "Bailey, listen to me and listen well. I could go on blaming all kinds of people for what happened that night. I could blame Ryan, Jackson, or even Grant Malone for putting the three of them on that duty. It’s not going to get me anywhere, and it’s not going to bring Connor back here. Just like you blaming yourself isn't going to bring him back, and it’s not going to solve anything. It’s only going to bring you a long life of misery. It's no way for anyone to live."
I hugged my Mom tight, and as her words sunk in, soon the tears stopped, but the heaviness in my chest still remained. Mom stepped back. "I think it’s time I leave the two of you alone," she said, pushing the strands of hair from my eyes.
"Who, me and Connor?" I questioned.
"No." She smiled. "You and Jackson." She nodded in his direction.
I turned, surprised to see Jackson standing a little ways behind me. My mom picked up her gardening pail, and as she walked over to him, they exchanged some words, and then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. We both watched her as she went and sat over on a bench in the middle of the cemetery and began placing all her gardening tools in the correct spot in her caddy. Jackson turned and smiled at me.
"How did you get here?" I asked, worried that he might have gotten behind the wheel of his truck when he had been told he shouldn't be driving.
"Ryan brought me."