Lock & West

by Alexander C. Eberhart

  I nod, watching her as she carefully backs out of the driveway. Once she’s disappeared around the corner, I go inside.

  Silence greets me. Jack must be sleeping because there aren’t any pirates on the TV. The night suddenly comes crashing down on me, those few precious moments where I’d glimpsed life returning to normal choked out by flashes of Jill on the floor. Mom struggling against restraints. Jack’s head buried in my chest.

  “Lan?”

  A light illuminates the kitchen, and I hear the sound of Jill’s wheels gliding across the tile.

  “It’s me,” I say, shrugging off my backpack and tossing the red folder onto the couch.

  She’s sitting at the table, probably trying to catch up on the work she’s put aside for me and Jack. I haven’t even told her thank you. She put her entire life on hold to take care of us—to make sure we’ve got a safe place—without batting an eyelash. You can say it’s because we’re family, but that’s not it. She loves me and Jack, loves us like we’re her own.

  “How is she?” Jill asks, not looking up from her work.

  “Sedated,” I reply. “Her doctor says they’ll start a psychological evaluation tomorrow.”

  Jill nods, her fingers moving silently over her tablet.

  “Are you alright?” I ask.

  “A little banged up,” Jill says, rubbing her shoulder for emphasis. “But no worse than the time I went bull riding in Austin. Now, that’s a story.”

  I cross over to the table, wrapping my arms around her from behind, and rest my chin on the crown of her head. “I wasn’t talking about that.”

  It isn’t long before Jill begins to shake. Tears, hot and steady, fall on the exposed skin of my arms. I stop counting after nine. This isn’t something I want to quantify. There have been so many tears lately. More than I’ve known in my lifetime.

  I guess I haven’t thought of this before. While I’ve been busy worrying about losing a mother, Jill’s been losing her only sister. Her only family, now that I think about it. After Gramps passed away a couple years ago, it was just the two of them.

  We stay as we are, two fractured pillars leaning on each other for support.

  “I was supposed to always take care of her.” Jill’s voice trembles. “To be there when she needed me. It’s been like that since we were kids, back in the group home. And for the first time, I couldn’t do it, Lan. I just laid there, helpless on the floor, when she needed me.”

  “That’s not fair—”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She sniffs, wiping both cheeks, and then pulls on my hands until I come around her, kneeling so we’re at the same eye level. “I’ve always been the big sister. Even after my accident, I haven’t stopped being the one who tries to solve everyone’s problems. But this…”

  She trails off, her lips trembling once more.

  “Jill, you’ve been so good to me and Jack.” I give her hands a squeeze. “You’re the only reason we’ve survived the last few weeks. You’re my silver lining right now. I need you.”

  I expect her to perk up, if only slightly, but fresh tears begin to stream.

  “I did this to her,” she whispers, closing her eyes.

  “That’s not true,” I assure her. “If anyone, it was Dad, the selfish bastard.”

  A sob breaks through Jill’s lips.

  “H-He wasn’t what you think, Lan. I know you’re angry with him, but it wasn’t all his fault.”

  “Then whose?” I ask, wary of the answer. More secrets. More lies. I don’t know if I want to hear anymore.

  “It’s mine. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m the one who made him leave.”

  Mom’s shouting rings in my ears. She’d said Jill was the reason he left.

  I pull my hands away from her, falling back on my ankles. “What are you talking about?”

  Jill dabs her eyes with her sleeve. Taking a steadying breath, she starts. “Your father told me about his relationship with Jordan before he told Jenny. Before anyone, I think.”

  “Why would he do that?” What did Dad have to gain from confessing his adultery?

  “He was my closest friend, Lan.” There are more tears now, and her voice thickens. “I don’t think we really ever meant for it to happen, but it did. I can’t explain why, but there was this connection between the two of us. We’d talk every week, sometimes for hours. And before long, he was telling me about Jordan. To listen to him go on about it—the love between them—I don’t think I could even begin to describe what they felt. It wasn’t so much something you could hear but more could feel, pouring out of every word.

  “And when he told Jenny…”

  The way she depicts Dad makes it difficult to keep the picture clear in my head. He has warped—my Dad—over the last six months. Memories twisting and taking harsher, sharper shapes. It’s my mind’s way of defending itself, I think, making it harder to tolerate people bringing him up. It tries to spare me from the pain.

  “They both came down,” Jill continues. “While I was being taken into surgery after the accident. It shook them both to the core, seeing me like that. In the end, it was the shock that led Jim to out himself to her. I would have told him he was an idiot, had I been able. Jenny didn’t speak to him until they flew home.

  “She tried to make it work. They both did. But after a few weeks, she just out of the blue tells him to pack his things and leave. He called me right away. I remember being laid up, wishing more than anything I could run to the airport and go talk some sense into both of them. But that wasn’t happening, and no matter how much I wanted to, I was stuck in that bed, thousands of miles away from the two people I loved more than anyone else in the world.

  “Jim told me what happened, Jenny was kicking him to the curb. He was ready to argue, to fight it out tooth and nail because he did love her, in his own way. And, of course, he was crazy about you and Jack. But when I heard what she’d done, I knew the truth. Jenny wasn’t just kicking him out. She was letting him go.

  “I think she knew, deep down, this day was coming. And once it arrived, she’d have to say goodbye to the only man she’d ever really loved. A clean break, that was the easiest way for everyone.

  “I know my sister, so I did what she’d want me to do. I told Jim he needed to leave. I told him he deserved a chance to be happy with Jordan and that Jenny couldn’t ever really be content if he was there.”

  “So, he saw his opportunity and bolted,” I say through teeth I never intended to clench.

  “It destroyed him to leave,” Jill tells me. “Say what you want, but I know it was leaving the three of you that killed Jim. No matter how happy he and Jordan were, it wasn’t enough.”

  “It’s a nice story,” I say, rising to my feet. “But it doesn’t change anything. What does any of it matter? Dad is dead. Mom will be too if she doesn’t get help.”

  “I don’t know what good it does.” Jill blots again, her pristine eyeliner smearing something awful. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. Maybe it’s because I still feel responsible for what happened. At the end of the day, I’m the reason he left you, Lan, and now your mom…”

  “Bullshit.”

  Jill’s head springs up. “What?”

  “You’re taking too much credit,” I say, arms folding across my chest. “It wasn’t like you held a gun to his head. He had a choice, and he made it. If anything, this is Mom’s fault. But who cares? We can argue technicalities all day. It’s not going to change the fact I’m minus two parents at the moment.”

  There’s a faint smile on Jill’s lips.

  “What?” I ask.

  If there’s a reason to smile right now, I want in on it.

  “It’s nothing.” She rolls forward, and I drop my arms so she can wrap a warm hand around mine. “I just have to catch myself sometimes. You sound so much like Jim. I forget for a second it’s not him I’m talking to.”

  I pull away from her grasp, taking a step back. She means well, but the last thing I wan
t is to emulate my father. I want no similarities. I remind myself of all the ways we’re different—I’m honest. I don’t lie to the people I love. I haven’t abandoned my family. At least, not yet.

  That’s about it. That’s not enough. I need more. I can’t be like him.

  “I-I’m going to sleep,” I announce. “Can we go check on Mom in the morning?”

  “Of course.” Jill reverses back to the table. “Get some rest, Lan. I know you—”

  Her voice fades. I’m already down the hall, opening the door to the guest room that has a better than average chance of becoming my room.

  Permanently.

  “Oh my god, West.”

  The pity in my sister’s voice would totally affect me if I wasn’t busy being royally pissed her sorry ass showed up and not my parents. But of course, they couldn’t be bothered to leave an event they’re sponsoring just because their only son is lying in a hospital bed. What would the shareholders think?

  “I’m fine,” I tell Claire, pulling my legs under me so I’m sitting, not lying, in the hospital bed. I guess it doesn’t matter. Either way, there’s a fucking IV in my arm.

  “This is fine?” Claire mimics me like a blundering blonde parrot. “West, you could have died. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  I stare down at my knees. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Oh, come off it, little brother.” Claire isn’t having it. “You’re starting to look like you did last year. Is that what you want?”

  I’m not giving in. I look out the window instead, watching droplets of rain form patterns along the glass.

  “West.” Claire snaps in front of my face. “Talk to me.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” I hate using this argument because it’s the epitome of cliché, but, in this case, it’s also the truth.

  “And why’s that?”

  A spark of anger fuels my voice. “Please, Claire. Everything is so easy for you.”

  “Easy?” Claire huffs, turning to drag one of the heavy-looking metal chairs to my bedside. “News flash, little brother. I’m just as fucked up as the rest of the world.”

  “Right.” I laugh. “Of course, you are.”

  “What’s your deal, West?” I ignore the crack in her voice. “This is me you’re talking to, not Mother and Father.”

  For a second, I almost believe her. That maybe she’s not the person she’s proven herself to be, but instead my big sister with whom I used to share my world. There’s a fleeting moment where I want to tell her about Lock, Clay, and the shithead of a fiancé she’s got herself stuck on. I want to tell her how I’m spinning out of control, how one day I look in the mirror and see myself wither, and the next day I go back and all I can see is that fat fuck, Pudge, who I thought I’d left in the dust. Or how the only time I feel like myself is when I push past the point of hunger. At least then I know I’ll never be that person again. I can’t be.

  But then I remember the last time I trusted Claire with my secrets, she sold them to the highest bidder, ratting me out to our parents. I swore I’d never make that mistake again.

  I blink, and Claire is crying now.

  “Why are you crying?” I ask with a groan. Typical Claire, make it all about her.

  “Because I’m scared I’ll lose you, fuckwad.”

  I’m laughing now. “Some great loss that would be.”

  “You can’t talk like that.” She swipes watery streaks from her cheeks. “How did you get it into your head you’re not worth someone caring about you?”

  “I think it was around the same time Mother looked at me and said I was starting to resemble the armoire.”

  I laugh again, but Claire doesn’t follow along.

  “I’ll tell you one more time.” I raise my hands in surrender. “I’m fine. Maybe I got just a little overzealous with my pre-bed jogging. I’ll cut back.”

  Claire’s about to argue, but there’s a knock on the door.

  “West?”

  “In here,” I call to my rescuer.

  Chels stands in the doorframe, rain jacket still slick. I try to give her a smile.

  In a blink, she’s by my bedside, and then she’s hitting me.

  “You. Stupid. Fucker. I’m. Going. To. Murder. You.” Her fist punctuates each word.

  “Are you finished?” I ask, rubbing my shoulder.

  “No.” Another punch. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, not really sure which thing I’m apologizing for. Running out on her? Not telling her about Clay? Hiding pieces of myself from her? That list keeps growing. And it’s the one list I don’t like to keep track of.

  “I’m going to go find Blake and get started on the paperwork,” Claire announces, rising from her chair.

  I roll my eyes. The only good part about this whole experience is the fact that dickhead isn’t my doctor.

  “Chels, you look good.”

  “Thanks, Claire. You too. Congratulations on your engagement. My parents are expecting our invitations.”

  “You’re first on the list.” She laughs. Then she’s gone, and Chels crawls up beside me on the bed. Her body heat is so welcome. My lips are probably blue at this point.

  “I don’t think you’re allowed to do that,” I say with a grin.

  “Let them try to stop me.” She laughs then quietly adds, “I should be thankful, I guess.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “That you at least told me you were here.”

  Ouch. That was a bit heavy-handed. It’s not like I don’t tell her everything else that’s going on in my life… Just not this one little piece. The piece that may or may not have put me in the hospital.

  “Do you love me, West?”

  “Of course, I do,” I answer. And it’s true. I love Chels more than anyone else on this stupid planet. Yet, I still can’t tell her what’s going on. What does that say about me?

  “I love you too,” she says, shedding her soggy jacket and tossing it over to the chair. “Like the brother I never wanted.”

  “Thank you?”

  “Shut up. I’m not done.”

  I draw two fingers across my lips, zipping them shut.

  “And as someone who loves you,” she continues, “I have to tell you you’re being a fucking dumbass.”

  I raise an eyebrow, but my lips stay sealed.

  “I meant what I told you the other day, West. There’s obviously a lot going on, and although it kills me you can’t talk to me, you’ve got to get help. Who cares where you find it from. Hell, I’d be glad if you adopted religion at this point if it kept you out of this horrible place. There’s always a spot for you at the synagogue.”

  Chels really hates hospitals. Even more than church, apparently.

  “Okay.” She rolls on her side, ducking under my IV to nestle her head against my shoulder. “Now, I’m done.”

  I wrap an arm around her shoulder, relishing the warmth she brings. We stay like this for a while, Chels scrolling through Facebook videos, until I have to pee from all the fluids they’re pumping into me. But I don’t want to move.

  “Thanks for not leaving me,” Chels says, swiping through an adorable cat video medley. “I mean, I would have been super sad and all if you croaked, but the real tragedy would have been Dennis stepping into your Bromeo part.”

  We both shudder.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her.

  At least, not this time.

  Jill drops me off at the hospital entrance with a baggie full of waffles (in case I get hungry and the cafeteria is serving meatloaf again).

  The path to Mom’s room is familiar, the foot traffic light because it’s early on a Saturday. She’s still asleep, according to the nurse at the desk, so I decide to settle into the small waiting area. I pull out my laptop and a waffle to nibble on and stare at a blank page for almost an hour.

  At this rate, I may have to take Ms. Cox up on her extension.

  “Will you calm down already, Chels?”

/>   A voice pulls me away from the blinking cursor.

  “You’re going to get in trouble!” A second hushed voice.

  “I’m not waiting for Claire to get back here. It could take half the day, and I’ll go crazy if I have to watch one more fucking infomercial. What are the top three worst things that could happen?”

  Setting my laptop aside, I get up, peeking around the corner of the wall.

  “Whoa!” West nearly runs headfirst into me.

  “S-Sorry,” I stammer as he latches onto my arm to keep from falling.

  “Lock?” Chels isn’t far behind him. “What are you—Oh my god, is this where your mom is staying?”

  West rights himself. He looks terrible, skin pale, eyes sunk into his head. They’re dull too, no longer Puget Sound but shallow water—kiddie pools, really. This is the closest I’ve been to him since that day.

  Time hasn’t dulled the longing in my stomach.

  “Yeah,” I reply, my hands finding the pockets of my jacket. “Why are you here?”

  Chels turns to West, but he just stares at me with this look on his face like I’ve caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “I wanted to come see you,” West finally says. “Check in, I mean. Shay told me you’d be here.”

  That’s weird. I don’t remember telling Shay I was coming back this morning. Then again, she probably just assumed it. I’ve practically lived here for the past few weeks.

  “And you, Chels?”

  “I’m…” She taps her foot against the ground. “Volunteering. You know, my dad said it would look great on my college app.”

  “Isn’t that one of your patients now?” West asks, pointing at the young blonde woman down the hall. “You should really get back to work.”

  “R-Right.” Chels gives me a quick smile. “Good to see you, Lock.”

  She hurries off to speak with the perfectly healthy-looking woman.

  “How are you doing?” West asks, stepping in front of me until I lose sight of Chels.

  “I’m alright,” I answer. “Mom woke up yesterday, so that’s cool.”

  “That’s so great,” West says quickly, guiding me with a hand on the shoulder back toward the waiting area.