The Weight of Madness Read online

  THE WEIGHT

  OF MADNESS

  By: Randileigh Kennedy

  Copyright 2018 by Randileigh Kennedy

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, people, or places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are simply products of the author’s imagination, and any similarity to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any way whatsoever without written consent from the author.

  Chapter 1

  “This is the most important question I’ll probably ever ask you,” my best friend Olivia stated as we shifted uncomfortably in the vinyl seats of the hospital lobby. “Which Property Brother would you run away with?”

  “What kind of question is that?” I replied with a laugh, pulling my shoulder-length wavy blond hair up into a tight ponytail. “What do you mean?”

  “This is the easiest way for me to assess your taste in men.”

  “Olivia, we’ve been best friends for almost two decades. You know my taste. If I had a type, it would be called the wrong one.”

  “Sophia Grace, you’re not taking this seriously,” she replied in a playfully stern tone. “Look, in grade school you liked the social outcasts; the boys who ate glue, and that weird kid who always brought his lunch wrapped up in foil.”

  “Are you talking about Peter? He was adorable. He actually just sent me a friend request recently. He has like, six kids already.”

  “Not the point,” she said dismissively, waving her arms around in a dramatic fashion. “Then in high school, you went for the quiet nerdy types.”

  “Kevin was not nerdy,” I laughed, “he was smart. A little boring, sure, but he was brilliant.”

  “That was a dead end. He was dull and never could’ve held your interest. He did math for fun, on the weekends no less. That’s as red of a flag as I’ve ever seen. Then in college, you were all wrapped up in the whole ‘bad boy’ vibe. Who was that guy you brought home last Christmas? Gage? He had so many tattoos I thought your dad was going to have a stroke.”

  “He only had eight tattoos,” I added, still giggling at her melodramatic history of my dating life. “One of them was a picture of his dog. It was kind of sweet, you know how much I love animals. Of course it was somewhat hidden by that naked woman wrapped in snakes. I can’t say I really appreciate all reptiles equally.” I grimaced.

  “Exactly. We can agree that your preferences are all over the map, yes? But we’ve changed a lot over the years, right? We’re done with college. We have our own apartments. We have serious careers now.”

  “You’re still a bartender because you won’t make the leap with your design business,” I stated. “And my lighting shop has only been open for a few weeks. I still have plenty of time to fail and move back in with creepy internet roommates. Our careers still need some work.”

  “Hey, my freelance design company is almost ready for launch,” she said assuredly. “The bartending gig is just for cash while I finalize some things. Your store is absolutely beautiful, Soph. There isn’t a chance you’re going to fail. You never have…at anything.”

  They were kind words, and I certainly appreciated them. However, I hadn’t exactly stepped out of my comfort zone before to try anything big enough to fail at. So really, the jury was still out on that.

  “My point is,” she continued, “you need a clear idea of what you’re looking for at this stage in your life. Drew or Jonathan?”

  “Who?” I was very confused at this point. “I don’t even know a Drew.”

  “The Property Brothers, Sophia,” she explained, gesturing wildly with her hands. “You know, that show on HGTV where one of the twins is the smart nerdy business guy who sells houses, and the other twin is all hot and muscular, breaking down walls with his bare hands…”

  “First of all you watch way too much TV if you’re really insinuating this is a valid question. Second of all, how old are they?”

  “I don’t mean you have to pick one of those specific guys, they’re not even the hottest guys on that network. I’m just making a generalized point to see if you gravitate more toward the smart nerdy business guy, or the rough dirty hands guy.”

  I laughed. “Why does it even matter? I’m not looking for either one. I’m not actually looking for anybody.”

  “Oh come on, we’re all looking,” she stated, pulling her long, tan legs up into the chair. Her dark brown bob framed her heart-shaped face perfectly. “I mean even when we’re not looking, our eyes are still open, you know what I mean?”

  “It’s one in the morning,” I scoffed playfully. “I think you’re delirious. If you keep it up, you’re going to have to live with Grandma Eve at the center.”

  “How is she, by the way? Did you see her today?”

  “Yes,” I replied with an emotional sigh. “It’s getting so much worse. Alzheimer’s is such a cruel punishment for someone who doesn’t deserve an ounce of it. Sometimes she thinks I’m a nurse, or worse – she thinks I’m my mother. When she doesn’t recognize me, my heart aches, but worse than that – when she does recognize me and we have the most lucid, candid conversations – it just reminds me of all that’s been taken away from her, and it’s heartbreaking. See, that’s another reason why I don’t want to fall for a guy. I’m not cut out for heartache. The ending is too tragic to witness. She still talks about my Grandpa Harold all the time, not realizing he passed years ago, and it’s agonizing. No matter what I tell her as to why he’s not coming to pick her up, my throat gets tight and I get all choked up every time. She still loves him as if they’re nineteen again.”

  “That’s not tragic, it’s beautiful.” Olivia was just as enamored by my grandma’s love story as I’d always been. “No one regrets a love story like that. Even when it ends and it’s sad, it’s all still worth it. You know that.”

  “I know,” I said with another sigh. “She reminds me of that all the time. It’s a curse, because no matter how much I want to fight it, I do want that love story. Everyone probably does. But how often does that actually happen for anybody?”

  “It happens all the time,” Olivia said matter-of-factly. She paused. “Probably.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle. “See, probably. That’s the reality of it. It probably happens, occasionally, sometimes. I hate that. If it’s so worth it, shouldn’t it be happening all the time?”

  “People give up too soon.”

  “So I should’ve stayed with Peter the foil-luncher from grade school? You think we could’ve been happy?” I said dramatically.

  “That one was worth giving up, trust me,” she replied with a laugh. “But I’m telling you, one of these days you’re going to meet a guy who is worthy of a great love story, Soph. I’m certain of it. You just have to know what you want. Once you figure out which one is worth keeping, the rest is supposed to be easy.”

  “Has anyone in the history of the world ever described love as easy?”

  “Probably,” she stated, shrugging again. “Maybe in the Bible or something? I’m pretty sure it’s in there somewhere. Although I guess that was written awhile ago. I’m actually not sure it says ‘easy,’ I think it’s just patient and kind and stuff…what do they always say at weddings? Do they say love is easy?” She clearly wasn’t confident in her answers whatsoever.

  “You definitely sound like an expert on this subject,” I teased. “You should give me advice more often. This is really helpful.”

  “You’re right.” She giggled, pulling at a piece of hair that kept falling in front of her eyes. “Full disclosure – I would pick both Drew and Jonathan. I don’t even care at this poin
t, I would literally go out with whichever one would simply reply to my texts. Why would any guy need more than nine hours to answer whether or not he wants to go out for tacos tomorrow night?” She looked down at her phone, no doubt bothered by the fact that Garrett hadn’t yet responded to her invitation.

  “Are you girls here for Lexi Gray?” An older woman in green scrubs motioned toward us, interrupting our conversation. We both nodded in unison, then followed her through an open door down the hospital hallway. “She’s out of surgery. She’s doing just fine.”

  Olivia and I followed the nurse into a quaint recovery room. The remaining part of our best friends trio was lying comfortably in a teal hospital gown, covered in white blankets. Her long brown hair was piled into a loose bun on top of her head. She smiled as soon as we entered.

  “How are you feeling?” You could hear the concern in Olivia’s voice.

  “Much better than when I got here,” Lexi answered with an apprehensive smile. “My appendix hadn’t fully ruptured yet by the time they got me into surgery, so that’s the good news.”

  “Is there bad news?” I questioned, happy to at least see she was in good spirits.

  “Well, I’m going to need a more conservative bikini to hide this scar,” she joked. Olivia and I laughed with her. “Otherwise, it’s not too bad. They can release me tomorrow as long as everything looks okay.”

  “Are your parents going to make it? Did they get a flight out, or were they going to drive?” I had called them as soon as we brought Lexi into the ER, but given that we were in Grand Harbor, Michigan and her parents were in South Carolina, either mode of transportation was going to delay them a bit.

  “They caught a late flight. They should be here in a few hours,” she replied warmly. “You guys really didn’t have to stay.”

  “Are you kidding? I thought I was the one who killed you, taking you to that sushi place. Sophia’s already skeptical enough about seafood as it is, and then when you doubled over at the table I thought that was it – another life lost to salmonella poisoning,” Olivia said dramatically. “Of course we’d wait for you.”

  “You guys are the best.” Lexi pointed straight at me. “Oh, Soph - there is this nurse here, Travis something… He’s really funny. Great eyes, nice smile. We need to find him so I can introduce you.”

  I gently grabbed her arm away from the call button on her bedside table. “No way,” I said quickly. “What is it with you two trying to set me up?”

  Olivia pointed directly at Lexi. “Drew or Jonathan,” she asked hurriedly.

  Lexi wasted no time responding. “Jonathan, hands down.”

  “You guys are terrible,” I giggled. “I want neither. Leave me out of it.”

  Our banter was interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

  “Oooh, is that a guy? It has to be a guy.” Olivia gasped.

  I gazed at the screen. “I highly doubt it. I don’t even recognize the number.”

  “There is only one kind of call that comes in at one-thirty in the morning,” Lexi added, feeding off Olivia’s assumption. “You definitely need to answer that. If it’s a man, I won’t call hot-male-nurse Travis in here.”

  “You guys are helpless,” I stated, shaking my head. I hit the green button on my phone.

  “Hello?”

  “I love you. Please don’t hang up,” a deep voice pled on the other end.

  “Who, uh, wh…” I was completely caught off guard by the urgency in his voice.

  “Just hear me out. Let me say what I need to say. Then at the end, you can respond. If you want to,” he added.

  “Uh, okay,” I replied slowly, still unsure as to who was on the other end of the line. Was it my ex? It didn’t sound like him, nor was it a Chicago area code. If it was someone I knew, why wasn’t the number in my phone?

  “We went through a lot,” he continued.

  “I don’t think we –”

  “It was all my fault, okay?” he interrupted. “I’m finally admitting it. It was me. I killed him.”

  Chapter 2

  “Oh, whoa, you…” I tried to stop him from talking, but I was too stunned. This call couldn’t possibly be for me.

  “Please, just let me finish,” he said urgently. “I love you, and I know that with absolute certainty. I mean it, I swear. Everything that happened, I’ll take the blame. For all of it. I can’t take any of it back now, and I know that. But we can change what our future looks like, despite our past.”

  “I think…” I tried to interject again, but he cut me off quickly.

  “I have to finish saying all of this while I still have the nerve,” he said with heavy emotion in his voice. “What we had – it was real. As emotional and ugly as it was at times, I still tried to give you the very best of me. Maybe what we had wasn’t perfect, but maybe that’s why it made sense. Look, I should’ve given you more. I should’ve done more. I could’ve changed everything.”

  “Actually, I…”

  “I miss you,” he continued. “I miss the way you scrunch up your nose when you smile. I miss your laugh and your ability to make me feel like the only guy in the room. Please, Emily.”

  “Well, my name is actually Sophia.” I finally got the words out. “Which makes this a little awkward. Sorry.”

  There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Olivia and Lexi remained quiet too, staring back at me with wide eyes, waiting for an explanation.

  “Em,” he said quietly.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated, “but you definitely have the wrong number.”

  “You changed it?” He sounded confused, as if he didn’t quite believe me.

  “I just got this number recently,” I explained sympathetically. “I needed a local number for my business. I own a store called Sparks downtown on Sixth Street. When I requested a new number, my carrier gave me this one.”

  “Do you know Em?”

  “I don’t think so. What’s her last name?”

  “Emily Kensington,” he replied softly.

  “I don’t believe I know her, sorry,” I answered empathetically. There was this sadness in his voice that struck me. I wished that I could help him, but the whole conversation seemed somewhat bizarre. Between his omission that he killed someone and the fact that he was professing his love for this Emily girl, sadly I suspected she didn’t want to be found, and probably with good reason.

  I realized there was silence on the other end of the line. He must’ve hung up. I stared back at my phone, caught off guard by the entire exchange.

  “What was that?” Olivia stared back at me as if I was guilty of something. “More importantly, who was that? I heard a male voice.”

  “It was a wrong number,” I replied dismissively. “A very wrong number. Some guy desperate to find his ex-girlfriend apparently.”

  “So he’s single,” Lexi mused.

  “Not a chance,” I laughed. “Too much baggage. There were more red flags in that conversation than a call-before-you-dig yard. He was a mess.”

  “Now you’re getting picky?” Lexi chided playfully.

  “That guy sounded flat-out disturbed. Let me at least have some standards,” I retorted. “Just because you’re ‘casually dating’ Nathan, who has commitment phobia by the way, do not push your romantic ideals on me,” I razzed Lexi. “And you Olivia, you’re no better. You’ve been dating Garrett for two months, and he goes days without returning your calls. You’re hardly a relationship expert.”

  “At least we’re putting ourselves out there,” Olivia shot back. “You’ve been back in Grand Harbor for what, four months already? And not one single date? You’re way too cute for that and you know it. It’s as if you’ve already signed a petition for some fast-track projectile path toward becoming a spinster with too many parakeets.”

  “Hey, I once read that birds are the song to one’s soul,” I replied with a giggle.

  “See, Lexi, she’s hopeless,” Olivia stated.

  “In all fairness, I’ve been focused on getting the sh
op up and running,” I said defensively. “I barely remember to shave my legs once a week. That should tell you how far away my brain is from dating.”

  “Well Memorial Day Weekend cometh,” Olivia said dramatically. “You have three weeks to bring a date to my family’s annual beach bash or I’m setting you up. The gauntlet has been laid.”

  “Really?” I replied. “Garrett is really rubbing off on you with all that fantasy sci-fi jargon.” Lexi laughed along with me, knowing I was right. “I have an early morning tomorrow,” I added. “Now that we see you’re fine and in perfectly good spirits, Lexi, we should go.” It was almost two a.m., and I was exhausted.

  “My parents should be here in a couple hours anyway, so I’m supposed to get some rest,” Lexi agreed.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said warmly, reaching down to give her a hug. Between the rails on the hospital bed and the IV drip tubes, it was awkward at best. Olivia attempted to do the same.

  “See you later,” Lexi added as we exited the room. It had been a long day. I looked forward to the comfort of my own bed, though I had a feeling that strange phone conversation would replay in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  I arrived at the shop by seven a.m. The custom lighting store I owned, Sparks, was just a few blocks from my apartment. It was nestled into a small storefront right in the center of downtown. It had been a dream of mine for years, though admittedly a bit quirky. I had an engineering degree from the Riverside Institute of Chicago, where I’d spent the last four and a half years. Now, after months of hard work and a small loan from my father, I’d turned my dream into a reality.

  I made unique light fixtures; some made out of various metals, others out of pipes and cogs for the industrial look taking off now. Some of my pieces were more traditional – lanterns and pendants – and then I had a one-of-a-kind section that was admittedly somewhat bizarre, but they sold well. I made lamps using regular household items – like one made out of a toaster, and another built into an end table. I also had a local section where I designed fixtures with various items I found around Grand Harbor; sea glass washed up along the shore of Lake Michigan, and battered reclaimed wood I found from old torn down farmhouses. I designed all of the pieces and my business partner Austin perfectly crafted them to completion.