by Kyra Fox
“What’s that?” Lenny squints at the card.
“Something Zoe gave me.” My head is reeling. “Hey, Lenny, would it be okay if I take some time off? I need to go see Phil.”
“Yeah, Kid, of course, it is.” Lenny’s smiling as if he knows there’s more to this than just Philip. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”
“You’ve done more than I could ever have hoped for, Lenny.” I give him a big, genuine smile. “Just pass on my love to Martha. I’ll let you know how things go.”
I’m practically jogging to my car. I know exactly what I have to do to make things right.
ZOE
I should have canceled my class today, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The structure of my schedule was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart over the past week.
But as confident as I was that sticking to my routine would help me cope, I didn’t take into consideration how much walking into that classroom just a week after Eric had dumped me would feel like a hard slap to the face.
Ned asked me if everything was okay, told me my ‘young fellow’ hadn’t shown up for class and I just nod, telling him it’s nothing serious, and try to teach my class. I say try because I keep choking up with tears every time I look at the front row seat Eric used to sit in when he’d wait for me. I can barely contain a sob when I go to the podium where he first told me he loved me.
I end up dismissing class early, not covering even half the material I was planning on teaching today, and I just feel worse for wear.
“Hey, Zo.” I look up at the familiar deep voice and smile at Brian. “How are you feeling, Cous?”
“Meh.” I sniffle a bit, letting my head rest on his chest when he wraps me in a brotherly hug.
“Will beer help?” he asks, and I smile and nod.
“Always.” I shake out my arms and head and let out a loud “Blah,” making Brian laugh.
“You are so weird.” He picks up my bag and slings it over his shoulder.
“So are you.” I bump my shoulder against his arm, which doesn’t sway him an inch.
“True. Though I did figure out all on my own that you’d come to class today and have a really hard time about it.” He’s looking at me like he’s waiting for me to answer a question he never asked.
The winter air hits me full force after the warmth inside the classroom, but I’m relieved to be out of there, away from the memories.
“Just spit it out, B.”
“If you’re on a shock therapy session you need to choose: Barron’s or Stout.” He seems deadly serious, and I shake my head.
“It’s not shock therapy.” I exhale sharply. “I thought sticking to my routine would be good for me,” I explain, but Brian doesn’t seem convinced.
“Yeah, to a point.” He stares at me, and I almost laugh at how much like Phoebe he looks with that glare; biological or not, those two are without a doubt siblings. “That point being going into that classroom. Unless...”
“Unless what, Brian?” I ask dryly.
He looks at me for a few seconds and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Unless you were hoping he’d be waiting for you there?” That shuts me up because as much as I hate to acknowledge it, I was hoping just that. “He’s in California.”
“You’ve been talking to him?” I confess I feel betrayed, but I also feel relieved that Mac hasn’t severed all ties.
“I may or may not have gone to kick his ass last week after I heard what happened.” At least Brian has the decency to look abashed. “And we may or may not have ended up having a very long conversation over a few beers. And tequila.”
“Did you at least get a punch in before you went ahead and advanced your bromance at the expense of my broken heart?” I snip at him before turning on my heels and stomping to my car, only to realize Brian has my bag with my car keys in it.
“It wasn’t like that.” Brian extends my bag out to me as I stomp back angrily toward him. “You don’t know what it’s like to spend your entire life running away from something. Trying push through the debris left by bad choices made for you before you even had a voice of your own, only to have all the shit you’ve been avoiding thrown right in your face.”
“And that makes it okay?” I still haven’t taken my bag, it’s just hanging there, waiting for me to decide if I want to take part in this conversation or if I’m walking away from it. “I begged him to stay, Brian. I’ve been sitting at home every day for the past week waiting for him to come back.”
“Mac wildly overreacted. He knows he did, and trust me when I say he’s beating himself up over it better than I ever could.”
“And yet, here you are while he’s run off to California.” Tears are streaking down my face, and people are starting to stare and whisper, but I don’t care. “It really should be the other way around though, shouldn’t it.”
“What do you mean?” The look in Brian’s eyes turns wary, and I know he knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“Well, there Eric is in California all torn up and pining for a girl in Boston, and here you are in Boston all torn up and pining for a girl in California. Quiet the pair you two make.” It’s textbook aversion, and I can see my statement hit a nerve. “Shit, B, I’m sorry, that was bitchy.”
Brian just shrugs and slings my bag back over his shoulder, concluding that if I haven’t made a move for it yet, I’m not going to anytime soon. “At least he had the girl, even if only for a while.” Brian looks at the dark sky and exhales. “I think I’m upgrading my beer offer to hard liquor.”
“Now, you’re talking.” I hook my arm through his. “Hard liquor is Bitsie.”
Brian raises an eyebrow at me, seemingly conflicted whether I’m for real or being sarcastic.
“Sarcastic,” I provide, and he chuckles.
“How long have you known?” he asks as we make our way to the nearest bar. “About Trista?”
“It’s kind of common knowledge.”
“Seriously?” I can see a blush spread over Brian’s cheeks, and I tighten my grip on his arm.
“Remember how Phoebe used to tease that you two should hook up?” Brian nods. “And then she just stopped.”
“I thought she’d just grown out of it.” He seems to realize that he thought wrong.
“That first vacation from college, after we moved away and Tris stayed for school in Boston, we all came home and the look on your face…” I shake my head and sigh. “It seemed cruel to tease you like that when it was obvious you were head over heels for her.”
“Not obvious enough,” he snorts and opens the door to a small corner bar called The Velvet Keg that seems full enough to be good, but not so full we won’t be able to find a quiet spot to sit and talk.
“Trista, she’s complicated when it comes to romantic relationships.” I smile at him sadly. “Problem is telling her wouldn’t have helped, maybe only helped you move on, but she’s just not ready to take the step.”
“I’m not sure she ever will be.” Brian suddenly shakes his head. “This is supposed to be about you, not about me.”
“Guess we’ve just established who’s smarter,” I say flashing an evil grin, “because we’ve been talking about you for the better part of the last half hour.”
“I hate you,” he grumbles with a smile and orders us two servings of rum in a lowball.
“This is nice, B. Why don’t we do this more often?” I ask as I look over the menu. The food is a bit odd for a pub, sort of a traditional pub menu with fusion twists from different cuisines but checking out the plates coming out of the kitchen, it looks mouthwatering. I think I might adopt this as my new bar now that I can’t go to Barron’s anymore.
“Because we tend to spiral down the crazy genius rabbit hole unless someone is there to keep us in normal people land.” Brian’s immersed in the menu, not noticing the sadness that suddenly overcomes me.
“You mean balance us.” I’ve lost my appetite, so I throw the menu back
on the bar. “Like Eric and Trista do.”
“Yeah.” He holds my hand and squeezes it. “He’ll come around, Zoe. He loves you, you know that, right?”
I nod. “You should go to LA, Brian, see what it’s like after so long apart.” I squeeze his hand back, remembering how Trista had sobbed to me about missing him. “Maybe she’s realized a few things now that she doesn’t have you down the hall.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He doesn’t sound convinced, but I know my cousin. I’ve planted the idea in his head, and I just need to wait for it to take root and grow.
“Do you think I overstepped, telling him Philip deserves to know about the file?” The thought that I had actively pushed Eric away has been plaguing me. “He just lost his mom, it was obviously a lot for him to handle, whatever the police had found.”
“Philip just lost his mom, too,” Brian reminds me. “And if I recall, you’re the one he was talking to every day since he flew back to Berkeley. I think you were okay if all you said was that he should share with Philip that the file exists.”
“Okay.” I can’t say I’m convinced, but I let it be for now.
“What are we eating?” Brian picks the menu back up.
“Deep-fried mars bar?” I suggest, and Brian looks utterly disgusted.
“Tempura fried ice cream?” he offers instead, and I laugh, nodding my approval.
Part of me wonders if Brian is right. If Eric will come back to me. I can’t help but wonder if he’s as torn up as Brian said, why he hasn’t yet. Though deep down, I don’t care when it will happen, all I want is for him to be back in my life, loving me and letting me love him back.
Chapter Twenty
MAC
The idea to drive down to California lasted all of five minutes before I realized it would take me three days at the least, so I opt for a flight. I figured $300 was a small price to pay considering my end game.
The second I bought a ticket, I called Philip, told him I’d be landing late afternoon and renting a car for the drive from SFO to Berkeley, which meant I should be there sometime during the evening.
He sounded surprised and maybe even nervous that I’m dropping in on him so abruptly. I wasn’t one to jump on a plane and fly coast-to-coast with a few hours’ notice. I guess he realized I had something important to tell him, something big enough for me to get on a plane so I could say it face to face.
Renting the cheapest car available, I set my satnav to Philip’s dorm. It’s almost an hour with traffic, but it gives me time to figure out my next move, how to tell Philip about what’s on the thumb drive the police gave me. I’m not even sure how he’ll react. As far as I know, he’s always been as reluctant as me to dive into our miserable past, to learn about the people who abandoned us and our mother.
I’m so lost in thought that the hour passes by faster than I realize.
The campus is huge; I ask for directions twice, and it still takes me a few tries to find the dorms. Philip opens the door at my first knock as if he was sitting right next to it waiting for me.
“Hey, Eric.” He hugs me, and for a second, I’m taken by surprise. We don’t really do the hugging thing, but then I drop my duffle bag and hug him back.
“Hey, little brother. How’ve you been?” I mentally smack myself for not calling him more since mom died. Zoe was right, I’ve been acting like I’m the only one in grief, but this happened to Philip as well, and contrary to me, he’s been alone. “Sorry I haven’t been more in touch.”
“It’s okay.” He breaks the hug and stares at his feet, not meeting my eyes. “I’d actually been talking to Zoe every day since I flew back out here.”
“You’ve called her?” I feel my heart flutter a little at the thought that she still talks to Philip, that maybe it’s her way of keeping me in her life. “Did you tell her I’m coming?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I, uh… She said it didn’t matter, what happened between you, that if I need her, she’s there for me no matter what. But I kind of sensed it was hard for her, so I stopped calling. She tried calling and texting me, but I didn’t answer.”
“I’m sorry.” Philip seems so out of sorts; his usual easygoing vibe seems to have evaporated.
“What happened, Eric?” Philip is looking at me now, a mix of misery and anger in his eyes. “The two of you were so good together. She was so good for you, I’ve never seen you happier, hell I’m pretty sure I’ve never even seen you happy!”
“I know.”
“Even after mom died, you were upset, sure, but when she walked into the room, it was like your face lit up. How could you let that go?” His hands are held out in despair, his hazel eyes seem dimmed, and his posture hunched. “What happened?” he asks again.
“This happened.” I pull out a thumb drive from my pocket.
“What’s in there?” Philip takes the drive from my hand and looks at it more closely as if it will give him a clue what’s on it.
“The police ran mom’s prints, and she popped up. So did next of kin. Zoe found out about it, told me I had to tell you, and I guess she was hoping I’d finally decide if I’m confronting our past, mom’s past, or moving on from it.”
“You weren’t going to tell me that the police pulled a file on mom that has information about our family in it?” Philip’s nostrils flare, and his grip on the drive tightens.
“I would have, eventually.” I can’t meet Philip’s eye; he has every right to be mad at me.
“This did not just happen to you, Eric.” Philip slams his palm on the table. “You don’t get to sit on information regarding my life for a month without telling me, and don’t you dare say you were trying to protect me because you were only trying to protect yourself.”
“You’re right. I was only thinking of myself, and I’m sorry, Phil.” I take a deep breath. “I think we should decide together if we want to open it or not.”
“What if one of us wants to and the other doesn’t?”
“Then, we open it,” I state simply, and Philip nods, still very pissed off at me.
“Is this really why you broke up with Zoe? Because she wanted you to tell me about the file?” He looks at me almost as if he’s sorry for me and I nod.
“I was overwhelmed, I guess.” I rub my hands over my face and sigh. “I know it was wrong of me to walk away like I did.”
“Yeah.” He nods in distraction, preoccupied with examining the drive in his hand. “I want to open it.”
“Me too,” I agree, which earns me a snort.
“Really?” Philip stares at me in disbelief. “Because a week ago you threw away the best thing that ever happened to you because of this.” He waves the drive in my face with vindication.
“Yeah, well, things have changed.”
“How?”
“Lenny showed me his Will. He’s leaving me the shop.” It still sounds surreal, I’m not entirely sure it didn’t only happen in my imagination. “He told me it’s because I’m a good man. Zoe kept telling me that too, but I don’t think I’ve ever really believed it. I realized maybe I should start, maybe I should face the people that made me feel like I’m not good enough and understand that they’re the problem, not me. Maybe it will help me stop pushing away people who do see me as worthy just because I’m afraid who I am will disappoint them or scare them away.”
“I…” Philip’s hazel eyes are wide in shock, and his mouth is gaping. “I swear if you don’t marry that girl, I’m going to.”
“You’re the second person to say that.” I chuckle, and Philip just shakes his head in disbelief. He doesn’t find that little tidbit amusing.
“Well, maybe start listening to us wiser men.” He goes to grab his laptop from his room and sits defiantly at the table in the joint dorms area.
“Ready?” he asks, his hand resting on top of the mouse, the cursor hovering over the thumb drive’s icon.
“No, but let’s do this.” Philip clicks on the icon. The documents are organized in backward chronological order, st
arting from the incident report by the police and the hospital records from mom’s death.
The first few are all things we know, social service reports, parole officer reports, accounts of arrests, and a file about Audrey, your standard stuff.
But the further back we go, the more things start getting strange. Little bits of information that don’t entirely fit into the reality of our childhood. Random facts that seem odd considering what we know of our mother and her life.
When we reach the files around Philip’s second birthday, our world is thrown upside down. The more we read back, the more our lives become a whirlwind of deceptions and half-truths until we’re left with nothing but a whiff of what we once believed to be our history.
“She lied to us about everything,” Philip whispers when we’re finally done. I can hear his voice dither, and I realize how much worse this is for him, what we’ve found out, what our mother did.
“Fresno is only a three-hour drive from Berkeley.” I put my hand on his shoulder, and his head slowly turns away from the screen toward me.
“Okay.” He nods. “We’ll go in the morning.”
I pull him into a hug. “I love you, Phil, you know that, right?”
“Yeah.” I hear his voice crack some more.
“No matter how it happened I’m glad you came into my life. That I got you as a brother.” He nods, and I can feel wet drops dampen my shirt.
“I love you too, Eric.” He sniffles and looks at me with watery eyes. “You really are a good man.”
“Come on, let’s get some sleep.” Philip nods and closes the lid of his laptop, carefully pulling out the drive and handing it back to me. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
We get ready for bed in relative silence, pretending there’s nothing to talk about, nothing to be said, but I know neither of us is going to get much sleep tonight.
Chapter Twenty-One
MAC