Release

by J , Louise

  He opens his eyes, gazing up. “It’s the not knowing that was the problem. I’ll never know for sure.”

  “Was the problem? It still is,” I say, gently.

  How do you let go of feelings like that if you really believe an outcome may have been different if you’d made an alternative decision, such as going home when you said you would?

  As I dwell on that thought, I realize I relate to it as much as Dane does. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to let go of knowing the consequences of your decisions never had to happen in the first place. If you’d only gone with the alternative then the outcome could’ve been different.

  “One thing I do know for sure is that, at the very least, Saffron wouldn’t have found him dead. There’s no arguing that, Brooklyn.” He pauses, thoughtfully.

  He’s right. I can’t argue that, because I’d feel the same thing – I do feel the same thing. Again, I relate. There’s no getting away from the impact of your decisions when they negatively affect someone you love.

  “She had nightmares for weeks after,” he suddenly says. “It got to the point I’d sleep in her room so I’d be there when she woke up panicked and scared.”

  Now he looks at me as though he’s providing me with an opportunity.

  I can’t accept it. I wish I could.

  I lower my head onto his shoulder. “Maybe one day you’ll fix Ray’s bike and then I can ride with you,” I say, hoping it might be an incentive. It’s quite an expectation on my part to consider myself reason enough to encourage him, but that’s the best I can do.

  Something so easy to fix, which has emotional value, shouldn’t be left broken, almost unloved.

  “You can ride with me anytime you feel ready.”

  “If you’re ever ready to fix it, then I will. No pressure, though. If you don’t want to do it, don’t, but I think you should keep trying until you succeed.”

  “I think you’re right. I’ll hold you to that statement.”

  “Good, you do that.” I stroke his chest. “Let’s dance.” I want to ease the mood somehow, for both of us.

  “You want to dance?”

  I laugh quietly at the shocked sound in his voice. “Yep, I feel fine.” Enough.

  Jumping up off his lap, I walk in a straight line between the coffee table and the sofa, proving my stability, stopping when I get to the space we usually use for dancing. Turning to face him, I grin. “See.”

  He gets up and heads for the music system.

  I love that he never tells me no.

  We’re in the 1990’s, which we both agree produced some of the most amazing R&B tunes. We often find ourselves here.

  “T-shirt off,” I tell him. I can never get enough of the look or feel of that firm, tattooed torso.

  Face-to-face we step in close and start moving to the up tempo beat. Into the first chorus, Dane raises my hand in the air and twirls me gently. He pulls me back against him. I draw my hair forward, over my shoulder, so my bare back presses to his bare front. Now his arms wrap around my waist. Rocking and swaying, hips moving, my backside pressing against his groin. I know he’s holding back because of my alcohol consumption and toilet hugging episode, but it’s still perfect.

  We dance together often and we definitely pick songs with messages in them. We haven’t said that we do this, but it’s obvious. I know that Dane knows, and vice versa. I like it this way because not only is it our thing, but those words remain mine if I haven’t actually said them to him. Through lyrics and the way we move we express want, need, attraction and care, but never a direct ‘I Love You’. I don’t expect those words from Dane. I don’t intend on giving them, either, even if I have come close to saying them.

  I’m over-happy with this choice of Dane’s. To think that I’m always on his mind and that I drive him crazy. That makes us even, because that’s exactly what he does to me.

  In these moments it’s us, the rhythm, and the words. Anything outside is nonexistent. No past. No future. Just now. Just us.

  The song comes to an end. “No more dancing,” Dane states, gently in my ear.

  I turn to him, fake pouting. “I’m not ready to sleep yet.”

  His right brow arches. “Sure about that?” I nod. “I know something we can do, then. Take a seat.” He’s smiling, relaxed, and we’re in a good place. I feel good.

  Sitting down, I play with some strands of my hair and wait whilst Dane fiddles with the DVD player. As he approaches me, his grin has me raising an eyebrow, mimicking his expression from a moment ago. There’s something about the way he’s– my eyes widen and I gasp in absolute horror!

  There’s only one woman who can be responsible for what I’m seeing on the TV screen.

  Forty Four: Dane

  “Where is everybody?” I ask, walking into Saffron’s kitchen.

  The place smells of honeyed ham and a radio talk show provides the entertainment.

  “Joe’s with Jack and Nathaniel in the backyard, the boys have developed an interest in snails so they’re looking for one. Adam’s upstairs putting together Nathaniel’s new bed. I’m surprised you’re all even with it after last night.”

  “We weren’t that bad.” I walk over to the patio door and look out to the backyard, and sure enough, the two boys and Joe are crouched down by the bushes, looking in the mud.

  “Heard all about the shenanigans,” Saff says.

  “What, Brooklyn and her friends thinking they were the new Charlie’s Angels?”

  She stifles her laugh, knowing I don’t find it funny. I wish I could. “Getting caught up in an almost cat fight was quite erotic according to Gerard. He crashed here last night.”

  “I doubt Kayla would agree with him.” I glance back out at the yard. “Looks like they’ve had success,” I call to Saffron.

  She walks over and stops beside me and smiles when she sees Joe holding up a snail for Nathaniel and Jack to inspect. Their little faces are eager and curious.

  “I would love to be their age right now,” I say. I’d like to have a simple thing like a snail to focus on.

  “I often think that. Where’s Brooklyn?” she asks, turning her gaze up to me.

  “She’s sleeping.”

  “Is she at your place?”

  “Yup, and so will I be once I’ve spoken with you. Adam said you’re worried – even after I told you you don’t need to be.”

  “What was up with you yesterday? You barely spoke to Brooklyn or me after your talk with Elizabeth. Then I hear you’re out on your own with the guys – that wasn’t the plan when I left you. We never hide things from each other, and I know you’re keeping something from me. Talk to me, Dane.”

  We do usually share all the important stuff, but some things are better left alone. I really would rather go hunt snails.

  “Look, there’s nothing to be concerned about. I’m just trying to get this right, but it isn’t easy. Last night I let her go home to try and give her space, instead of keeping her with me at every opportunity, and look what happened there.”

  Turning away from the door, I head over to the dining table and pull up a chair. Saffron sits with me.

  “At least you’re trying, right?” she says, understanding.

  “Sometimes I think I should let her go. I figure sooner rather than later. At least it’d be on my terms.” That’s what I keep trying to convince myself to do.

  Saffron laughs at me. “Let her go? You’re pointlessly torturing yourself if you’re thinking like that. No way could you end it, you’re way too into her.”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy, but I’m not good for her. Not with the way my mind is working. I don’t know how long I can fight with myself, it’s constant and it’s driving me insane. Six weeks. Just six weeks and we’ve already reached a depth I feel like I’m drowning in and I can’t seem to find my way up to the surface. How the hell did this all happen? I didn’t want it. I still don’t.”

  The patio doors open and Joe walks in, his fingers muddy. The boys are lin
gering at the door with excitement all about their faces. They have a snail each. Useful timing.

  “Whatcha got there?’ I ask, grabbing my getaway. Standing up from my chair, I know Saffron’s unimpressed with me for being evasive. I walk out to the kids to check out their fascination. Crouching down to get nearer to their height, I take a closer inspection.

  “Look!” Nathaniel says, holding up his new little friend.

  “That’s awesome, dude,” I reply, over enthusiastically. Regardless of not wanting my own, and even though I’ve seen it to be challenging, kids are fun. A lot of fun.

  Joe comes back out with a plastic container in his grasp. He kneels down next to me.

  “Are they keeping them?” I ask him.

  “For now, not forever,” he answers, emphasizing the last two words for the boys’ sakes. “They’ve named them,” he tells me.

  “What’ve they named them?”

  “Dad and Dad,” he says, with humor in his eyes.

  I laugh. They’ve named their snails after their dads. Now that’s a complement, I’m sure Joe and Adam always wanted to have slimy snails named after them. I chuckle again, so does Joe.

  I watch the kids put their Dads in the container and then they add soil and grass. It’s like one of those miniature gardens in a tub. Glancing behind me, I see saffron standing at the patio doors and I know I need to speak with her. The last thing I want to do is talk, but I can’t leave her concerned.

  “You may as well get it over with,” Joe says to me, fully understanding the situation with Saff.

  “I know.”

  “Brooklyn cool?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for taking care of the other stuff.” Handling the situation with that piece of shit last night.

  “No probs.”

  After sliding the doors shut, I sit down with my sister.

  “You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re not exactly forcing Brooklyn into anything.”

  “I know, but I’m using her insecurities to my advantage. That’s not right.”

  “It works for you both. For your own reasons, you both need things to be the way they are. Personally, I don’t see the harm, not if the two of you are happy with each other. And you are, regardless of anything else.”

  Fuck it, tell it like it is. “I can’t deal with L.A., Saff.” I look at her, and her gaze moves from me. I’ve got her on this one.

  “It’ll be fine,” she says, with less of her usual determination. “It won’t be easy, but it will be fine.”

  We sit in silence, which isn’t ideal, because it’s giving me time to think. I stand up from the chair. “I better go in case Brooklyn wakes up.”

  Out front, as I mount my motorcycle, Saffron approaches. Before I key the ignition she loops her arms around my shoulders. I lean in closer, hugging her back. She always smells of vanilla from her body lotion and Sunshine Fresh from her fabric softener.

  In my ear she whispers softly, but confidently. “Everything is going to work out perfectly. Please believe that.”

  “I feel like I’m going crazy, Saff.”

  Her arms tighten around me. “Stop being so closed to me. Don’t keep it all in your head, let it out. Please don’t fail to see how happy you and Brooklyn make each other.”

  “The older you get the more like Elizabeth you sound. The more you kick my ass, too. The ass kicking is definitely payback, right?”

  “For sure, big brother, it’s my turn now. I’m gonna keep on kicking that butt of yours until you’re right where I want you to be. You’re headed for it. Just keep going and let me and the rest of your family be there for you when it gets hard.”

  Forty Five: Dane

  I arrive home from work, ditch my jacket, helmet and boots at the door, and head straight for the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge.

  Sitting on the sofa, after sucking some down, I hold up my half-empty bottle and weigh up how wise it would not be for me to lose myself to this shit tonight. I’ve got a bunch of Buds in the fridge and some quality bourbon, unopened, so it wouldn’t be a hard thing to do. But it’s not wise. It’s Monday and I have work again tomorrow.

  Ten minutes later, I’m on my second Bud. I have to stop soon. Fuck, I wish I had something other than tobacco to smoke. Come to think of it. I reach for my cell.

  Two hours later, I’m out on the balcony with Joe sitting on the chair next to me. I didn’t have weed, but he did, so here we are, each with a joint in hand, and the aroma of some satisfying marijuana surrounding us and a semi-euphoric state setting in. There’s a chill in the night air but, with sweaters and jackets on, that’s no issue.

  Parting my lips, I free the smoke within my lungs as I sink lower down into this hard, plastic chair, and ask my buddy, “How often do you think about Callie?”

  My gaze fixed on the sky, I’m aware of Joe looking at me now. He wasn’t expecting me to ask that. I wasn’t, either, it just came out almost as soon as the thought arrived. This is a topic we never really discuss these days. Nothing like a little weed to bring whatever’s going on in your head to the surface. Hopefully it’ll all stay the fuck out after. Yeah, right.

  “Every damn day,” he replies, as he puts his joint to his lips. The crackling of the weed and paper, as he inhales, becomes the only sound.

  “How do you do it? It’s got to be hell.”

  “I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve come close to getting on my bike and riding to Scottsdale. Or getting on the first plane out there, just to be there sooner. It’s not really an option, not if she isn’t ready to accept Jack.” He shifts forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  I never did, but now I really don’t understand it. The woman he loves is a single flight or a motorcycle ride away. But then, that little man of his comes with a connection I can’t even begin to relate to.

  “How I do it?” he asks, looking at me over his shoulder. “After what happened with you and Nadine you say that?” He leans back in his seat, gazing at me.

  “I had no choice after she stopped being mine.”

  “Fuck,” Joe mutters, finger combing his hair back from his eyes. “Fuck, man.”

  I sigh, contemplating how to express where my head is at. “The end of Nadine and me was the end of me and anybody else until seven weeks ago. It was so easy disconnecting emotionally from every single female I’ve fucked, because I didn’t want to go there again.

  “With Brooklyn I haven’t been able to do that and all I can feel, instead, is this brutal need to keep her and do whatever’s necessary to make that so – prevent anything that might get in the way of that. I didn’t even want her to go to fucking L.A. If her dancing wasn’t so important to her, I probably would’ve found myself demanding that she stay here. When she’s with me it’s like I have some control over the situation, but with her there, or anywhere else, I can’t do shit.

  “I guess that’s why I don’t know how you do it when Callie’s so close. But you’ve got Jack, so maybe I do get it.”

  Joe exhales smoke, slowly. “He’s number one ahead of everything, so I don’t have a choice. I can’t make Callie take him on. It isn’t easy, not going to her, but my boy makes it possible. I don’t even give a fuck that she’s with another dude now, I’d still go to her, but the situation will stay as it is until she’s ready to change it. I understand her decisions, but I was fucking pissed at her for a while after she first left.”

  Now I’m the one staring at him, the same way he just did me. “For real? You didn’t show it. I wouldn’t have thought you were capable of being pissed at her.”

  “It was mostly when I was drunk, man. Hell, I did a lot of drinking for a couple months. I wanted it all out of my head – the baby, Callie and how fucking close we were to making it. Instant fail, dude, inebriation didn’t do shit – in fact it did the opposite, it gave me time to think. The last thing I wanted was to talk about it, though, so I didn’t. And I was mostly pissed at myself – I’m
the one who fucked up.”

  “Why do we always do this? After all these years it’s the same crap, we have shit going on and don’t talk about it until way later. Gerard, Adam and me, we should’ve been right there getting wasted with you, man.”

  Joe chuckles. “The responsible approach. Getting wasted with me – not stopping me. I like that. Maybe that would’ve worked better, sure as shit I wouldn’t have had all that time to think.”

  “And right there’s my point. Nothing like getting hammered in the company of friends to keep the shit out of your head that you don’t want there.” I’d be getting drunk right now if I didn’t have work tomorrow.

  He laughs again. “Instead of Saff always holding us together. That girl is mean. I got totally wasted one night and the next day she was right there poking me. Fucking poking me. She’s like, “Enough is enough, if you don’t get your butt up and in the shower and shave, I’m calling your mom and she’ll come kick your ass instead. No, I’ll go one better. I’ll get Julianne here, and you know what she does to hungover boys.””

  Oh, hell, I laugh so damn hard. I almost fall off my fucking chair. “Hungover boys? Mother fuck. Leave it to Saff, right?” Where the hell did my joint go? My gaze sweeps the ground around me, searching.

  “It damn well worked,” Joe says, picking it up from under my seat and handing it back to me. “She almost got me with my mom, but Julianne? Hell no.”

  We settle back down and I light up again, taking a deep pull.

  “It was all pretty messed up with Callie and me from the start, but I guess a couple things have helped me keep my head straight, in addition to Jack.

  “That photography blog Su told us about is my way of keeping an eye on her. There isn’t a single picture of her on there, not that I fucking need one, but everything on that site is her, because it’s hers – the pictures, the words she writes – and in a way that makes me feel close to her. She’s always putting new stuff up. I felt like a total freakin’ weirdo when I first started going on there.”

  I can’t help chuckling at that. “I know that feeling. I felt like a total freakin’ weirdo when Brooklyn first came on the scene. Man, I watched all the stuff on YouTube with her in it from the TV show she was on.”