Warrior Blue

by Kelsey Kingsley

  I turned to him, questioning why he thought I cared at all about how he met his wife or how quickly they fell madly in love with each other. But the guy did like to talk, that much was obvious, and so I nodded in reply.

  “It’s the most bizarre feeling, you know, looking at someone for the first time and knowing they’ll be your wife one day.” Then, he laughed as his cheeks reddened. “You probably think I’m so lame, talking about soulmates and all that.”

  I wanted to tell him I didn’t believe in soulmates. I wanted to tell him I didn’t believe in souls, period. But every time I resisted, a little voice would speak up somewhere in my head. Or, was it my heart? Wherever it was, that little voice said that there was so much about this world I didn’t know. I sure didn’t know why a thousand accidents had aligned so perfectly to bring me here, to this exact moment. I didn’t know how Audrey could be so different from me, yet somehow balanced me out so well. I didn’t know what allowed Jake to see a person’s color radiating around them, to reveal their innermost secrets. And if I was willing to admit all of those things, I could also admit that I didn’t know if there were soulmates, tethered to each other. Maybe even through a thousand accidents, all aligned so perfectly just to bring them together.

  “I don’t think you’re insane,” I told him.

  He grinned, flashing me a row of straight, white teeth. I didn’t swing that way but I could appreciate that Jason was an attractive guy. Sharp jaw, full mouth, friendly eyes, and a symmetry to his face that would make any modeling agency shit their pants. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he told me he’d been a jock in school and popular with the girls. A golden boy. A Ken made perfectly to go with Barbie.

  “Why didn’t your wife come today?” I asked him, while trying to ignore how well he fit Audrey and how much I didn’t, despite the sex being good and the company being better.

  His smile wilted with a shrug and a glance into the stroller at the sleeping baby Eliza. “She couldn’t get off work today. She’d been sick all last week with a sinus infection.”

  I nodded. “Ah, yeah. Sinus shit has been bad this year.”

  Jason groaned. “Tell me about it. And with her job, it’s tough to take time off work.”

  “What does she do?”

  “She’s an adult daycare provider,” he explained, completely unaware that he was laying another tile down onto the complex mosaic design of my life.

  I turned then, granting him my full attention. “Hold up,” I said, and he nodded, tipping his head curiously. “Does your wife work at the Essex Center for Adults?”

  Jason’s nod slowed to nothing. “Yeah … h-how did you know that?” Now, he looked at me like I was a crazy stalker and shouldn’t be anywhere near the mother of his son. But Jason was a smart guy, a quick thinker, and that narrowed glare of suspicion and distrust, was fleeting. The pieces settled quickly into place as his eyes flitted toward my brother. “Jake,” he drawled, pronouncing every letter of his name with purpose. “He’s Jake.”

  “Yeah,” I answered, nodding slowly. “That’s Jake.”

  “Jeez,” he muttered. “What are the chances of that?”

  I let a long, winded breath whoosh past my lips. “You know, a few weeks ago, I would’ve said the chances were slim. But now …” I shook my head, looking at Audrey in her form-enhancing witch’s dress and her contrasting platinum hair. “I’d say it’s par for the fucking course.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  EVERY YEAR, Jake would request tacos for his birthday dinner. It wasn’t his favorite food, nor was it something he wanted to eat often. He just enjoyed the fun of building his dinner himself, the freedom of putting whatever he wanted together without anybody telling him what he could or couldn’t do. I liked to think it made him feel more in control and more like the adult he legally was.

  This year wasn’t any exception, and after leaving Audrey’s house, Jake and I went back to my place to prepare. I had left with Audrey’s lips on my bearded cheek and the promise that she’d see me later, and somehow, that simple, gentle kiss felt more intimate than making out. For the hour it took for me to bring up the folding chairs from the basement and get dinner together, I pondered why that was, until I realized it was the first time I’d felt her lips on my body without the influence of alcohol behind our actions. Then, after coming to that conclusion, I was nervous. About inviting her over. About her altogether. What if our attraction was only influenced by booze? Was there anything real about it, then?

  My parents showed up before I had laid the taco shells and fixings out on the counter, buffet-style. Mom insisted on helping while Dad sat awkwardly in Jake’s room, to avoid helping, I assumed. But I wished he was in the kitchen instead. I wished he had also insisted on helping me, to act as a buffer between my mother and me. But now, left on my own, I just hoped to make enough small talk to fill the minutes until Audrey came. Until dinner. Until they left.

  “How was trick-or-treating?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the counter as she filled a bowl with shredded lettuce.

  “Good. We had a good time.”

  “I wish you had invited us to come.”

  My hand stopped on its way to unwrap the package of shells. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Things have been so crazy, I forgot.” But had I genuinely forgotten? Or had I subconsciously kept the thought out of my mind, in order to selfishly enjoy the day with my brother, Audrey, and her son?

  “It’s fine. You just know we like to be included.”

  I lifted a shoulder in an apathetic shrug. “You never come, anyway.” I shouldn’t have said that, but it was the truth. Every year, I invited them, and every year, they declined. They were too old, too tired, too busy, they would tell me. I never cared; it didn’t matter. I never looked at it as a reflection of their feelings toward Jake or me. It just didn’t interest them, simple as that. But now, my mother was clearly hurt, and I was torn between feeling bad about that and being annoyed that I could never seem to do anything right in her eyes.

  “Well,” she replied shortly, “it’s still nice to be thought of.”

  A knock on the front door ended the conversation abruptly and Mom’s gaze shot up to pin mine as she asked, “Who could that be?”

  Fuck. I hadn’t told them I was inviting Audrey. Hell, they didn’t even know there was an Audrey, let alone a Freddy. I pinched my eyes shut and said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I invited a couple friends over tonight.”

  “Friends?” She said the word like it was foreign and uncomfortable on her tongue, spitting it out through twisted lips.

  I didn’t reply as I hurried through the living room to the front door. On the other side was Audrey and Freddy. She had changed, no longer in her witch’s costume, but just as beautiful, and Freddy was still decked out in his Batman garb.

  “Hey,” I answered, then grimaced at how breathless I sounded.

  “Hey, long time, no see.” She smiled wide, amused by her own lame joke, and my mouth stretched to match.

  I welcomed them in, taking her coat and asking if Freddy wanted me to take his cape, to which he declined with more sass than a four-year-old should possess. “So sorry,” I replied with deep sincerity, pressing a hand to my chest. “Jake’s room is right over there, if you wanna go check out his Legos before dinner.”

  Freddy looked to his mom for permission, and she said, “Go ahead, pal.”

  “Cool,” he said and darted toward Jake’s room. I listened as my dad greeted him with startled interest, and to Freddy’s simple reply, “I’m Freddy, Jake’s new friend. Are you his daddy?”

  “Uh, hi, Freddy,” I heard my dad reply. “Yeah, I’m Jake’s father.”

  “You wanna play with us?” Freddy asked him, and I listened as my dad stammered awkwardly, “S-sure.”

  I laughed as something warmed inside of me as I led Audrey into the kitchen. “That kid of yours is charismatic as fuck,” I complimented. She nodded and said, “He gets it from his dad, I think. I’m definitely not.”

/>   “Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but you are way more charismatic than Jason is.” I shot a wince over my shoulder and she laughed.

  “You didn’t like Jason?”

  “Hey, don’t go putting words in my mouth. I never said th—”

  “Blake, are you going to continue to be rude or are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Mom’s tone was pulled so taut, it was remarkable her vocal cords hadn’t snapped from speaking alone.

  I stood in the kitchen doorway, mouth open and eyes wide. But, taking a cue from her son, charismatic Audrey stepped forward. “Hi, Mrs. Carson. I’m Audrey. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  My mother offered her hand and as Audrey accepted the gesture, Mom said, “Audrey? Blake never told me about any Audrey.”

  It wasn’t what a woman wanted to hear about the guy she was seeing. Or fucking, whatever. I pinched the space between my brows, waiting for an angry glare or a glimmer of hurt in her blue gaze, but neither came. Instead, Audrey simply laughed easily and turned to flash me with a heart-stopping smile. The kind of smile that makes you wish you had a camera, to take a picture and remember that moment, to look back on when everything eventually turns to shit. Just so you can remind yourself that there was once a time when a gorgeous woman looked at you like that. Like it was possible for you to be the center of someone’s entire world, even if only for a second.

  And it was the best second of my life.

  “Blake doesn’t talk about much, does he?” she teased, and I rolled my eyes playfully. I was flirting in front of my mother and I didn’t even give a shit.

  “That’s for sure,” Mom grumbled, sliding her hand from Audrey’s. “He’s a tough one, to put it lightly. But if you’re here, you must’ve done something right.”

  I went back to work setting up dinner, busying myself as they continued to talk. Audrey giggled girlishly and shook her head. “Well, I don’t know if it was right. I just didn’t give him a choice.”

  ***

  Mom tapped her fingers against Jake’s wrist to grab his attention. He stared at her blankly for a moment before lowering his headphones. “Jakey, music off. We’re eating dinner,” she scolded gently, taking the headphones from off his neck.

  “I like this song. It’s not over. It’s the One Foot Song and it’s not over,” he argued, reaching for her hands.

  “You can listen after dinner.”

  She bundled his iPod and headphones together and passed them across the table toward me. I eyed her hands contemptuously and asked, “What do you want me to do with that?”

  “Take these into the living room, please,” she demanded, urging me to get a move on with a nudge of her chin.

  Audrey was sitting beside me and Freddy was sitting beside Jake. They were our guests, and the last thing I wanted them to witness was an argument between my mother and me. But dammit, it was Jake’s birthday and if he wanted to listen to his music while eating his birthday dinner, then what the hell did it matter? So, I took the headphones and iPod from her waiting hand and passed them back across the table.

  “Here you go, buddy,” I said, and Jake accepted gratefully.

  Mom gawked at me before her brows lowered angrily. “Should I remind you who the parent is here?”

  Pulling in a breath that I hoped would fill me with calm, I replied, “It’s his birthday, Mom. If he wants to eat his tacos and listen to music, why can’t he?”

  “Because it’s rude,” she disputed.

  Any semblance of calm I had gotten from that breath retreated as the anger rolled in. “It’s also rude to argue with me in my house, but hey, that never stopped you before,” I fired back, raising my voice.

  “Here we go,” Dad muttered, dropping the last bit of taco shell to his plate. “Don’t fight with your mother tonight, Blake. Come on.”

  “I’m not fighting,” I insisted as I reached for my water glass. “I’m just reminding her that when we’re in my house, we follow my rules. And if Jake decides to listen to his music on his birthday, then I say he can.”

  “And that’s exactly why you’re not in control over this situation,” Mom spat, taking back the iPod and headphones. “Jake doesn’t make decisions. He can’t,” and with that, she shoved away from the table in a huff, stomping her way into the living room. When she returned, his things were missing from her hand, and she said, “You’ll get your music after dinner, Jakey. Now, finish eating.”

  A fire broke out at my feet. The anger-induced flames licked at my heels, legs, and arms. They swept over me, until I was engulfed in a red-orange heat. So hot, so unbearable, and I could hear the bomb in my stomach ticking away, counting down the seconds until I imploded. My fists clenched on the table, pumping and releasing, as I aimed my stony glare at the half-eaten food on my plate. I knew I should let it go. I knew there was nothing to gain from fighting with her. I knew I should just resume my dinner and carry on with the night, but there was nothing left of my appetite and all I felt was mad.

  When it finally became too much, I lifted my head, undoubtedly with a face as red as the hot sauce puddled on my plate. I opened my mouth to breathe fire on my mother, and give her a piece of my mind, when I felt a cool, soft hand lay against my wrist. My gaze dropped to those fingers, as smooth as bone and as delicate as a butterfly’s wing. She must’ve sensed my rage, had felt it bubbling over, and now, with just this one touch, I was nudged toward tranquility.

  “You know what? I think it’s too quiet in here,” Audrey spoke up, gently gripping my wrist for just a second before pushing away from the table. “I actually have the Bluetooth speaker I use for class in my bag, so I think I’ll turn on some nice dinner music. Blake, do you mind?”

  She stood beside me and looked down into my eyes with expectancy while I struggled to pull together the words to reply. “U-uh, no. I don’t mind,” I barely uttered, my voice gruff and rasped. “That’d be nice.”

  “Great. I hope that’s okay with everybody else,” she said sweetly, but before anyone could reply, she ran into the living room.

  In her absence, I surveyed the silent table. My father watched my mom with apprehension, his hands clasped against his mouth. Mom seethed from her seat across from me, keeping her eyes on the table and never daring to look my way. Jake continued to eat as if nothing had happened, but Freddy’s jubilance had dwindled during the argument and the slow bites he took, the downcast of his eyes, filled me with a guilt I’d never known before. My mother had started it, and I stood by what I’d said, but my behavior had been uncalled for. Now I felt like a raving lunatic, a monster, and with my eyes on this little kid, I was overrun by the desire to do better. To be better.

  What do you think about that, Travetti?

  “Hey, Freddy,” I said, speaking with a calm softness in my tone, and he cautiously met my gaze. “Your dad told me you really like dogs.” His head bobbed gently, shyly. “Did Jake tell you he has a dog?”

  Freddy whipped his head to stare incredulously up at my brother. “You do?”

  “Mickey’s my dog,” Jake replied, nodding. “He’s a Golden Retriever and a real good boy.”

  “Where is he?” Freddy demanded to know, jumping up and down in his seat. “I wanna see!”

  Walk the Moon’s catchy and infectious “One Foot” drifted along the air at a respectable volume and Audrey emerged from the living room. “Goodness, I just love this band,” she said, easing back into her seat and meeting my eye. I held onto her gaze, hoping she could hear the ‘thank you’ resounding through my mind, and when she smiled, I assumed she had.

  “Mickey doesn’t live here,” Jake told Freddy, moving his head to the music, completely offbeat and just as endearing. “He lives at my house.”

  “I want Mickey to be here,” Freddy pouted, slumping back into his seat and grabbing his last taco.

  “Well,” I said, taking a bite of mine, “maybe you and your mom could take a ride with me this weekend. We can go see Jake, and you can meet Mickey.”

  Mom g
rabbed a hold of my gaze with a how dare you stare. As though I had some nerve inviting them along. And maybe I shouldn’t have. Perhaps I should’ve asked. But wasn’t she the one who’d told me to meet someone? Wasn’t this why she was taking Jake away from me in the first place, because he was, in her words, preventing me from having a life?

  But instead of protesting, she turned to Audrey with a smile. “We’d love to have you, if you aren’t doing anything.”

  Audrey offered her a catching grin and nodded. “That sounds nice, thank you so much.” She gestured toward her son. “Freddy really does love dogs, but both his dad and I live places where we can’t have any. I’d love to get him one, though. Maybe someday.”

  I lifted my brows questioningly as I turned to her. “Your parents don’t let you have pets where you’re at?”

  She shook her head. “They don’t want the place to smell like animals, in the event I ever move out and they have to get someone else in there. And Jason lives in a pet-free apartment complex.”

  I nodded contemplatively and glanced at Jake. There had never been anything stopping me from keeping pets at my house. It was mine; I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. Still, I had always used the excuse that I was too busy with work to take care of a dog. But now, I was aware that I kept similar hours to my parents and they managed to take care of one just fine. And now, I couldn’t stop thinking how Jake’s dog made him happy, more than just about anything else. If I could convince my parents to let Jake stay with me, that would mean the dog would be with me, too. I’d have to make that work, because what kind of selfish prick would keep him away from his pet?

  With a decision made to have a conversation with my dad, I settled back into eating as Jake belted out the chorus, wrong lyrics and all. Audrey clapped her hands happily and said to him, “Music makes everything better, doesn’t it?”

  I took a bite of my taco and nodded as I bumped my arm against hers. “It really does,” I agreed.