Risky Business

When Marissa awoke, she was alone in bed with only her memories as company. The events of last night ran through her mind, and her heart started hammering. She jumped up and raced to the guest room where her grandmother was sleeping. Quietly opening the door, Marissa glanced inside and found her sleeping peacefully. Marissa shut the door and let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding.

Her grandmother was alright, for now at least. Running a hand through her knotted hair, Marissa decided to shower before going down to see her parents. She slipped on some warm clothes and dried her hair after her shower. Marissa heard voices as she walked down the stairs and decided to eavesdrop.

“I think something's wrong with her,” Brett's father said. “Something isn't clicking in her brain.”

Marissa heard a fist hit the table before her own father said, “No, she's fine. She's just been under a lot of stress lately. Riss wasn't like this when she called us from Dover.” Marissa was surprised to hear her own name used in the conversation for she thought they had been discussing her grandmother.

“Chris, she isn't alright. We've known that for quite some time. Maybe she should see a therapist,” her mother said softly. Marissa didn't think she needed to see a therapist, so why would her mother think she did? Confusion began to creep into Marissa's brain and her head ached from trying to figure things out.

The conversation had ceased, so Marissa decided to make her entrance. She walked into the kitchen as if she hadn't heard anything and grabbed some juice. Everyone was staring at her with nervous looks on their face, as if they were scared she heard what they had been saying.

“Good morning,” she said, drinking her juice. “I planned on walking down to the shops for a little bit, try to take my mind off of grandma. Would anyone like to join me?” Everyone politely declined so Marissa washed out her glass and left the house. She needed to talk to Brett.

~

Marissa found her friend sitting on one of the swings at the park. Sitting down beside him, Marissa began to swing back and forth, not saying anything. After a few minutes, Brett glanced up and smiled. “Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” Marissa replied. “Where'd you go this morning?” she asked him, knowing it must have been important for him to leave without saying goodbye. Marissa watched him struggled for an answer.

Finally he said, “I needed to clear my head.” He avoided Marissa's gaze and instead started swinging. Marissa took that as the end of the conversation and started swinging higher. An hour passed before either of them said anything, but Brett broke the silence. “How is Ruth?”

Marissa shrugged because in all honesty, she didn't know how her grandmother was doing. She seemed to be doing better than she was last night, but ultimately, no one knew what was going to happen to her. The conversation she had with her grandmother the night before popped into her brain, and Marissa knew that she needed to tell Brett how she felt.

It didn't really matter if he didn't feel the same, but at least if she told him, she could say she took a risk. “Brett, I need to tell you something.”

Brett looked up at her and said, “Sure. Anything.”

Taking a deep breath, Marissa began, “I lo-” but was interrupted by her cellphone ringing. Groaning, she pulled the device out from her pocket and checked the screen. It was her mom calling, but before Marissa could press 'ignore,' Brett stood up and said he had to go. He walked away, leaving a very stunned Marissa with a phone that had long ago stopped ringing.

~

Marissa ended up calling her mother back and was forced to come home since she had a visitor. Marissa didn't invite anyone over and Brett had only just left her, so on her way back home, she wondered who it could be.

As soon as she stepped in the door, Marissa was greeted by her mother. “Marissa, go change for dinner,” she said before scurrying off. “And look nice!” She added from the kitchen. Marissa jogged upstairs and changed into the flower dress she had gotten months ago. Adding a light sweater, Marissa checked her appearance before walking downstairs.

“Marissa, dear, this is Dr. Snow,” her mother said as Marissa walked into the living room. She gestured to an older man whose hair was almost all white. He had a thick beard and he wore a pair of wire frame glasses. His suit made his hair and beard stand out because of it's dark contrast, but what stuck out most about him was that he only had one arm. Marissa knew it was rude to stare, so she stuck out her hand and greeted Dr. Snow with a smile.

“Hello, Marissa,” Dr. Snow smiled politely. Marissa nodded a greeting and turned to her mother for an explanation.

“I invited Dr. Snow here for you to talk to,” she said quietly. “With everything that's happened with grandma Ruth, I thought it might help.” Marissa crinkled her eyebrows in confusion. Why would her mother want her to talk to a shrink? She was perfectly fine dealing with her grandmother's illness and possible death without needing to talk to anyone about it. Marissa rolled her eyes but smiled at the doctor.

A few moments later, Marissa's father walked into the room and suggested they sit down for dinner. They all followed him into the dining room where six places were set. “Who else is coming?” Marissa asked as she took a seat. Her mother sat beside her while her father and Dr. Snow took the seats at the end of the table.

“Laura and Richard,” her mother replied. “They should be here any second, actually.” As the words tumbled out of her mouth, the doorbell rang making her giggle. “That must be them now,” she said and went to answer the door.

As the three came back, Marissa's father started serving dinner. There were steaks and mashed potatoes, green beans and corn, rolls and salad, it seemed to be a feast of sorts. Marissa filled her plate with food and quietly began eating. The adults were engaged in a casual discussion but Marissa tuned them out. She kept wondering why the Doyles were here without Brett and why everyone thought she needed a shrink? What was really going on?

“Marissa? Did you hear me?” Everyone was looking at her expectantly causing her to blush. She shook her head and Dr. Snow repeated his question. “What did you do today?”

“Just hung out,” Marissa said. “I was actually with Brett when you called,” she added, glancing at her mother and laughing a little. She watched as her mother bit her lip and gave her an apologetic look.

“And how are you coping?” Dr. Snow asked her. Marissa's confusion must have been clear on her face because Dr. Snow elaborated. “With Brett's death, that is.”

~

“His death? What are you talking about? Brett isn't dead. I was with him like an hour ago!” Marissa exclaimed. There was no way Brett was dead! She had been with him not too long ago and they had slept in the same bed last night! You don't just imagine that sort of thing.

Everyone seemed to be in a state of shock as what Marissa had just said registered in their brains. Laura was covering her gaping mouth with a shaking hand while her husband was rubbing her back. Marissa's mother looked like she was on the verge of passing out and her father's eyes were darting back and forth between Marissa and Dr. Snow.

“Marissa, Brett is dead. He's been gone for several months now,” Dr. Snow said slowly. “He died at the beginning of summer.” This was all too much for Marissa. She jumped up from the table and ran outside, voices from inside calling her name.

She didn't stop, though. She just kept running until she reached the cemetery. Darting between headstones, Marissa glanced at each name, looking for a familiar one. She was five rows into the graveyard when she spotted his name.

Brett Michael-Scott Doyle
Beloved son, friend, and lover
June 1st, 2011

Marissa dropped to her knees, her breath coming in quick gasps of air. Her heart seemed like it was going to break out of her chest as tears ran down her cheeks. There was absolutely no possibly way he had died and Marissa didn't know. No way! She had seen and talked to him, she even touched him! She refused to believe what was right in front of her.