by Natalie Dean
“I get the feeling that you can see what most people are thinking.”
She did let out a slight chuckle at that, which eased some of the tension lancing up and down his spine.
“I do have a knack for reading people.”
“So, you’re just that empathetic?”
She gave the politest version of a shrug he had ever seen, always poised. “Perhaps. I don’t know if that is it. To me, it feels more like being able to put together different pieces of a puzzle.”
“What do you mean?”
She opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted as their appetizer came out. He noticed that she instantly went for her silverware even though almost all of it was finger food, and she actually used one of the mini-plates that came with it to carefully place a single piece of the artisanal bread and a small bit of cheese right on top of it, before cutting it in two.
He watched, mystified, as she speared the one half with a fork, brought it to her mouth, and chewed for a good minute before swallowing.
Who ate what was essentially the rich man’s version of cheese and crackers with a knife and fork?
“So let’s say I notice that I’m talking to someone, and their facial expression falls when I mention a certain thing. The most obvious answer is that they don’t like those things, but perhaps there’s more to it. The why they don’t like it, or the how. It’s almost like… an investigation of sorts, where I pick up all these little clues until I can put together a clear picture.”
“So, what, you’re like Sherlock Holmes?”
“Hardly,” she said with a wan smile, “but deductive reasoning is actually the least accurate form of riddle solving and actually the most prone to errors, if you were ever curious.”
“Is that so?”
“That is why I said it.”
“All right then,” Bryant sat back, arms open. “What kind of case are you putting together against me?”
Her gentle smile faltered. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Why? Because you’re afraid to admit you find me charming? Interesting? Handsome, even?”
“Your attractiveness is relatively objective, so I don’t see why I would need to admit that. But no, it’s because people don’t actually like having what they think are their inner secrets just plucked out of them.”
“That’s because most people don’t realize how obvious they are.”
“It’s because most people build walls for a reason and having some girl who works part-time at a library get inside of them is alarming.”
“Aw, come on,” Bryant coaxed. “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”
She set her fork down, looking him over with that soul-searching gaze once more. “It’s difficult to even know where to start.”
“Is it? Because I’m just that complicated?”
“No, you’re just that hurt.”
Hurt?
“For example, your whole situation with your family. You would like most people to think that you don’t care, that you’re all wrapped up in the limelight and the partying, but that’s not true.
“Their rejection of you hurts you, deeply, and your response is to do more things to punish them. If they’re going to cast you out of their lives for questioning things, for being what you perceive to be yourself, then you’re going to be the worst of everything they see you as.”
She continued on, her tone matter-of-fact and unjudgmental. She could have been reading a grocery list for all the emotion she put into it. “The issue is you’re smart. Too smart. You enjoyed the challenge of getting to where you are, but now that you’re basically guaranteed success with all your accrued wealth, you’re bored. Life is empty for you without something to puzzle over, something to solve.
“Sure, the women, wine, and wealth are nice. They serve as pleasant distractions. But they’re like cotton candy, aren’t they? All spun sugar and sweetness but no satiation. You’re craving something, anything to give you true sustenance, and that’s why you’re so interested in me.
“I’m a challenge to you. I disapprove of your wealth and your ways. I’m a part of a world you hate. But I respect you, and I talk to you as an equal. I don’t think you’re lesser for your choices, and I don’t think it’s my place to judge you. You don’t know how to unite those two ideas because you’ve so neatly separated the world into predictable patterns.”
Bryant stared at her, feeling flayed out and open in a way he hadn’t in a long while.
None of that was true! He loved his life! Better than living on some backwater ranch his whole life and standing in the shadow of all his brothers.
And yet… her words still stung. Like someone had poured salt right down his gullet and was making it sit in his stomach, combining with the acid there until pure vitriol was bubbling through him.
“You’re upset,” she said, pursing her lips together. “I told you; people don’t like being psychoanalyzed.” She lifted her fork again and took another bite of the other half of her cheese and bread. She looked only mildly concerned, her expressions trained into that same banal mask.
“Am I?” Before he could think it through, that burning, blackened anger was sliding acrimoniously over his tongue.
“I did not say those things to hurt you, and you did ask. I was only saying things that I’ve observed. They were not judgments on your character.”
“Really? Because it certainly felt that way. I know you like to hold onto this constant poise, this unperturbable attitude, but I think you’re full of crap.”
“Bryant—”
“Because I can do the same thing to you. That false aplomb is just a charade. In reality, you’re just some little girl who’s just smart enough to realize how big and wide the world is, and that makes you feel out of control. You see, control is something you crave, desperately so, and pretending that you have an insight into everyone’s mind is how you play into your own fantasy.
“You think you’re above all of us, with our problems and our emotions, but the reality is that they rule you more than anyone else. Everything about you is carefully constructed, from that pious churchgoer schtick to even how you look.”
“How I look?”
A small voice inside of him begged him to stop. He knew he was losing his temper and saying things just to hurt, but his mouth just kept right on going.
“You want people to think that you’re some natural slender and beautiful girl, blessed by God or some crap like that, but look at what you’ve done at this meal. You could have anything you want, but you chose plain water. And you just ate a single hors d’oeuvre with a knife and a fork.
“You could have anything from the menu, anything you wanted, but you chose a single chicken breast and steamed vegetables. I’m sure if they had salad entrees around here, you would have just gotten that.
“Because the reality is, you’re boring, and you’re powerless, and your entire world is shaped by everyone around you. You like to think that you’re some insightful rebel, but really your biggest concern is calorie counts and what other people think of you.”
Finally, he ran out of both air and hate, leaving him feeling vaguely deflated. It wasn’t the best position to receive Keiko’s no-doubt scathing rejoinder, but instead of biting his head off like she was supposed to, she simply stood.
“I apologize, but I think I’ve lost my appetite. Enjoy your meal, Bryant.”
But wait, that wasn’t how it was supposed to go! Hadn’t she ever been in a fight before? She was supposed to yell at him, then he would yell at her, followed by her screaming and then they’d figure it out. Finally, he’d buy her something to make up for it.
“Keiko—”
“No,” she said firmly, pushing her chair in with shaking hands. “I am quite done with this conversation. Sophia was right. It was arrogant of me to think that I am qualified to fix anyone, least of all you.”
She tipped her head, and he saw the tiniest of cracks in
her impassive veneer. But instead of seeing anger behind those little fissures, or defiance, he only saw a raw sort of hurt that made guilt instantly fill where his anger had just been.
And then she was gone, heading out the door. Bryant was flooded with so many emotions that he could only sit there and watch where she exited, everything turned on its head again.
He was gobsmacked. He was embarrassed. He was confused at what had just happened. Hurriedly, he threw a hundred on the table and left, going to his own car. He felt as if he was in shock, actually. He had been so prepared for a fight and all the release of adrenaline that would come with that. But instead, it was just… nothing.
His mind was spinning its wheels for so long it wasn’t until he buckled his seatbelt when her last words hit him.
…fix him?
10
Bryant
Keiko’s words wouldn’t leave his head.
He was being haunted by what she’d said, the phrase repeating itself over and over again until it was practically a continuous loop. It followed him into his dreams; he found himself absently typing it into emails. Even his business meetings could barely fit into his brain over the constant puzzling.
He didn’t need fixing. Fixing implied that he was broken, which he most certainly wasn’t. And it didn’t make sense considering how much she’d complimented him. Unlike his family, she seemed to appreciate his head for business. She’d even called him smart. That was part of what made him think he was winning her over.
But no, apparently the entire time she’d been trying to “fix” him.
He felt tricked, like she had only spent time with him because of some ulterior motive. But hadn’t he been doing the same to her? Sure, she seemed to have been well aware that he was only interested because she defied his expectations, but that wasn’t much different.
He found no peace, even over the weekend where he got well and truly blasted at a movie premiere party in Cali, and the more days that passed, the more disquieted he grew, until it felt like his entire skin was prickling.
He needed to talk to somebody, but who? Most of his friends were from his business or the party scene, and he didn’t exactly want to go and let them know about the most vulnerable parts of himself or that he was borderline obsessed over a chick from his hometown.
So, he found himself driving all the way from the city to the Ranch on a Tuesday, hoping he could talk to Bradley.
As far as he knew from the wedding, Benji’s new bride was Keiko’s best friend, so Benji probably was the best person to talk to, but they were still on their ridiculously long honeymoon.
Not that Benji would have helped him anyway. His eldest three brothers were very much not huge fans of his—although at least the middle brother wasn’t nearly as snappish as Ben, who seemed to take Bryant’s lifestyle as a personal affront.
When he arrived, he realized that he didn’t want to go into the house where he would see Ma or Pa or anybody else. He was so tired, so strung up, he just couldn’t handle any of their disapproving looks.
Or that particular look of hurt that would always settle on Ma’s face. They were the ones who made him how he was; what gave them the right to look at him like that?
He texted Bradley, half expecting his brother not to answer him. Between being caught up in his work and wanting to avoid drama, connecting with his closest brother in age was difficult.
But really, he was the only one Bryant had any sort of bond with at all. He understood what it was like to not fit in. They both had been into unusual things when they were young. While Bradley had been books and theater, Bryant had been all about comics. And games. And movies. He had been much more content sitting inside and going about his various activities than going outside and wrestling around like all of his brothers.
And that was where it had started. He hadn’t realized it then, but it was the first instance of the family realizing maybe he wasn’t quite like them. And instead of just enjoying that difference, they kept trying to “encourage” him to be more like them, to not like such weird things. And the more they pushed, the more he resisted until finally, resentment had already taken hold.
Funny, it probably had seemed like such a small thing at the time, but it had certainly grown its roots and was no tiny issue now.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he jumped when there was a soft knock on his window. Surprisingly, it was Bradley, looking concerned.
“Hey, surprised to see you so soon.”
“Yeah,” Bryant said flatly, getting out of his car and looking around. “Can we go for a walk?”
Bryant almost expected him to say no. If Bradley was in the middle of a project or a spreadsheet, not even God himself could steer the man away. That was why he was so surprised when he heard his elder brother had gotten himself a fiancé.
“Uh, sure. I s’pose I got the time.”
Bryant sagged in relief and headed out. He remembered an older path that he used to love when he was younger, mostly because it was lined with blackberry vines and blueberry bushes and mulberry trees so he could munch whenever he wanted to.
“So, what’s going on? I’ve been seeing you around more lately. Normally you try to avoid the family as much as possible.”
“Yeah, I, uh… have had a project in town.”
“Ah, and by a project, do you mean you’ve been infatuated with Miss Keiko.”
Bryant grimaced at that. “How do you know?”
He shrugged. “Sophia confides in me often.”
Sophia? Right, the name of his girl. But that was also who Keiko had mentioned, which meant that she knew about the plan to “fix” him from the start.
“Gotcha. Yeah, well it’s not going well, so you won’t be seeing me too often.”
“That’s probably for the better,” Bradley said with a sigh. “You should leave Keiko alone. She’s a good person, you know?”
Something about his words spiked down into Bryant and he felt his hackles rise. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing. I just… she’s sweet, and she’s smart. You know, a good person. Sophia likes her.”
“So what then, I don’t deserve a good person?” He didn’t know why he was taking such offense, but he was. All of his brothers had someone. A beautiful woman to confide in, to trust and find respite in. All of their partners were good people; why couldn’t he have the same?
“That’s not what I’m saying, Bryant.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Bradley rubbed his temples as they walked along the trail, the gentle chirping of birds doing nothing to counteract the tension between them. Bryant did feel a flash of guilt. His brother had never been the best with words or emotions, and he was kind of forcing his hand.
“It’s just… people like her are few and far between, and she should be cherished for what she is. I get why you would be drawn to her, but she wouldn’t be happy or fit into your life, so unless you’re willing to change for her, it’s only gonna end up hurting her and probably you.
“And don’t get me wrong, brother, I love you, but I don’t get the impression that you want to change at all. Lord knows Ma has been trying to get you to for years.”
“Yeah, they’ve been trying to change me my entire life,” Bryant muttered. “I was never going to be like Ben or Bart, and they’ve never forgiven me for that.”
“Hey, I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Isn’t it? Tell me, Bradley, how often did they take potshots at you until you started doing finances for them and they realized they could make money off you.”
“Come on, it’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it? Did Pa ever come to one of your plays?”
“Well… no.”
“And in Ma’s Christmas letters, did she ever brag about when you got the lead in the spring musical as a sophomore?”
“No.”
“But every record of Ben and Bart was in there, right? Or how she dedicated a whole page to when you de
cided to join the swim team that one year. I’m not saying our parents are cruel or did it purposefully, but they made it abundantly clear what things they valued, what they didn’t, and you and I were always the weird ones.”
“To be fair, almost everyone still thinks I’m weird. They’ve just learned that it’s a good thing.”
“Like I said, because you chose to stay here and help them build up the empire. You compromised. You should have gone off to college like you wanted to and explored the world beyond what our parents want.”
“…compromise isn’t so bad, Bryant. It’s not losing. And I benefitted from choosing the path I did.”
“Compromise is a loss, just one you negotiate.”
“Bryant…” Bradley sighed.
Bryant was getting sick of that sound.
Bradley continued, “You know, I get why you’re mad, but that’s exactly the reason why things keep getting worse and worse. Would it be so bad to just lower your guard a little and maybe try to make things work out.”
Yes, it absolutely would.
Bradley didn’t get it, because he was part of the clan too. He’d forgotten all the awkwardness of being the strange kid in their younger years and was one of the good ones now.
…the good ones.
“Do you think I’m a bad person?” Bryant asked finally, the words coming out inelegantly and plain, but they were what he needed to know.
“I… I don’t know how to answer that, Bryant.”
Those words stabbed through him, going deeper than even Keiko’s barbs. His own brother couldn’t answer, because he didn’t want to say it to Bryant’s face.
He had always seen himself as a playful scamp, a charming ne’er do well who was the anti-hero to his family’s pious and old-fashioned judgment. They had all condemned him because they hadn’t understood him, not because he was inherently not good.
Was his perception that skewed? It didn’t seem possible, and yet that was the boat that he was in.
“Hey!”
Both men jumped and were surprised to see Missy riding up to them on Bart’s four-wheeler. The tall woman jumped off and strode towards them, her shoulders squared.