by Kelly Jensen
“You’re here for Brian Kenway?”
“Yes. Is he okay?”
He heard the rest of his crew rise to their feet behind him.
“I can only take one of you back,” the nurse explained.
“That’s okay,” Donny said. He gripped Mal’s arm. “We’ll wait here. Tell him we’re all thinking of him and find out what’s happening with Josh.” He picked up a sodden backpack from the floor and pressed it into Mal’s hand. “Here, take this with you.”
“Will do.”
“You seem a bit banged up yourself,” the nurse observed as she led him through a labyrinth of identical corridors, the length of each marked with wide doors, some open, many closed.
Voices, moans, a quiet sob, the beep of equipment. The sounds of the hospital clogged his ears. The smell of it burned his sinuses. Dizzy, Mal gripped his cane more tightly. “I’ve been worse.”
The nurse smiled. “Here we are, uncle and nephew side by side.”
Josh was sitting on his bed, small and pale in the harsh light. He was wrapped in several blankets. He looked older than he had the day before. Sad. Eyes red and shadowed. Cheeks hollow. But he managed a smile when Mal appeared. A very tired smile.
Gauze covered half of Brian’s face. He was dressed in a hospital gown and obviously displeased by it. He was plucking the material, talking to Josh.
Mal cleared his throat. “Hey.”
Brian turned and scowled and it was kind of adorable.
Mal held up a hand. “Don’t even. You asked for me.”
A weak smile replacing the scowl, Brian sighed. “I did. Now I’m wondering why.”
“Love you too, in all your scary glory.” A hot prickle crept back across Mal’s scalp. “So! How are you doing? When can you go home?” Surely a quick rush of words would cover the spill of words he hadn’t quite meant to share. Not like this. Not yet. He liked Brian a lot. Respected and admired him. Valued the unlikely friendship they’d formed. Loved . . . God, that damn word. Liked having Brian in his bed and could easily imagine waking up to that scowl for a long time to come. But . . . “Leo already moved your car for you, and we’re all waiting out front. So, um, whenever they’re ready to let you go, we can get you home. Or if you want some dry clothes first, we can do that. I didn’t want to—”
“Mal.”
“Yes.”
“Take a breath. I’m fine. I’m maybe concussed. Very mildly. As in, I’m allowed to sleep once I get home. Half of my face is sort of missing—”
Mal must have turned a greener shade of pale.
“I’m kidding. It’s all banged up. I hit the ramp on the way down. But they did an X-ray and everything is where it should be.”
“I’m sorry.” Really? “I mean . . . Ah . . .” The dizziness was returning, and Mal wanted to weep with frustration. This wasn’t the man he wanted to show Brian. Now wasn’t the time for awkwardness or weakness.
“You okay, Mr. M.?” Josh asked.
Swallowing, Mal nodded. “I spent a lot of time here last year.” That must be it. The weight dangling from his hand registered, and he lifted the backpack. “Hey, Kelsey found this behind the boathouse.”
Surprise flickered across Josh’s face as he took the backpack, holding it gingerly at first, then digging inside the front pocket. His expression brightened as he pulled out his phone. “Thank you!” Then his thumbs were working and the phone was dinging and Josh almost looked like a normal teenager again.
The nurse returned, then, holding out a sheaf of paper. “Okay, Mr. Kenway. Here’s your paperwork and your prescription. You can get dressed and go home!”
“Thank Christ.”
“What about Josh?” Mal asked.
Brian quickly filled him in. Apparently Josh hadn’t been in the water for more than a few minutes before they’d arrived. Having come through the park, he’d only just beaten them to the lake house and had slid down the ramp while searching for a way into the basement.
“He’s going to be fine,” the nurse said. “You should keep him warm. Lay low a few days. Instructions in the packet.” She patted Josh’s shoulder. “You’re one lucky kid, you know that?”
Josh’s head bobbed up and down.
Mal helped Brian and Josh into dry clothes, and then they were walking back through those doors and being crowded through the next set, Leo and Donny arguing about who would drive Brian home. Mal trailed along, feeling as though he were having an out-of-body experience, until Josh appeared next to him.
Mal glanced over at the boy, who seemed to have shrunk even further in on himself over the past few minutes. “You okay?”
Josh looked up. “Yeah.”
Mal nodded toward the phone clutched in Josh’s pale fingers. “Have you talked to Ethan?”
A smile edged across his young face. “I did.”
“I’m glad.”
Josh nodded, chewed on a lip, then glanced at him. “Ah, Uncle Brian said . . .” He shook his head. Started again. “Thank you for coming to find me. I . . . We’re going to talk about it, Uncle Brian and me. When he hasn’t got a headache. He’s told me if I leave the house before we talk, he’ll do worse than call my mom and tell her to come get me. I don’t know what would be worse, but . . .” Josh paused. Rubbed the sides of his face. “I wanted to . . . I didn’t mean to . . .”
Leaving his cane to rest against his hip, Mal put a hand on each of Josh’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I walked in on what should have been private, between you, your mom, and your uncle. If I could rewind time, I would. And I get it, why you ran out tonight. We could call it dumb, but we all do dumb things when we’re upset.” Briefly, he wondered if night and settling snow would always mean clarity. “He wouldn’t do worse, okay? Not Brian. He’d do just what he did tonight: come find you. He loves you and wants the best for you.”
Josh chewed on his lip a little more.
“And listen. We might not have a drop-in center yet. But you’ve got us, all right? You’ve got Brian and me and Donny and Leo and Kelsey. More, probably. You can call any of us, whenever, and we’ll be there. Anytime.”
Mal hadn’t wanted this. He realized that with an internal click so loud, he figured the world must have heard it. When he’d taken over the GSA, this—almost exactly this—had been his greatest fear. That he’d start giving out promises he had no right to give. That he’d have to care for these kids. Make them his own. But the expression on Josh’s face, the wrinkle between his fair eyebrows and the quiver of his chin made thoughts of any future trouble fade. It would keep. Whatever came next, it would keep.
Almost without thinking, Mal drew Josh into a quick hug, and the lanky teenager stepped in close. Said something soft against this chest.
From halfway into the parking lot, Donny called out. “Mal, you coming or what? We’re taking Brian home.”
Leo and Kelsey were hugging Brian. Taking turns. Hugging him twice each.
What a weird night.
Mal tucked his arm around Josh’s shoulders. “C’mon. Donny’s friendly meter is probably going to run out soon.”
Donny didn’t object when Mal told him to go on home and leave him at Brian’s. Neither did Brian. So far, so good. Mal didn’t want to force his company on anyone, but neither did he want to leave Brian alone tonight. For all two minutes remaining of it.
He waited by the car until Brian and Josh were halfway up the walk, then turned back to his brother.
Donny held up a hand. “Don’t say it.”
“You don’t know what—”
“You were right.”
“What?”
“He’s worth everything you have to give him, Mal. And you deserve someone like Brian.”
“I was going to—”
“But if you ever try to slide into a frozen lake again, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“The lake wasn’t frozen.”
Donny’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and then he laughed. “Love you.”
Mal reached thro
ugh the open window and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Love you too.”
He trailed Brian and Josh inside and found them in the front hall, gazes bouncing off in different directions: Josh, from the door to the street, Brian the kitchen.
“Josh,” Brian said. Josh glanced up. “Why don’t you go take a hot bath and head to bed? Doctor said you need to take it easy for a day or so. You were pretty chilled when we pulled you out of the water. When I . . .”
Josh bobbed his chin.
“We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”
Another nod.
“I promise not to yell.”
A twitch on one side of Josh’s mouth.
“Good night.”
Mumbling “night,” Josh leaped for the stairs and disappeared. A moment later, the sound of the bath filling swished against the ceiling. When Mal looked down, Brian was watching him. Or maybe just staring in his general direction.
“I can—”
“Stay,” Brian said.
“Are you sure? I can call Donny back, or get one of those Uber things.”
“I’d really like you to stay.”
“Okay.”
Brian moved to perhaps scrub the side of his face, found the bandage, and touched that instead. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to talk about what you heard in the kitchen—”
“Brian.”
“What?”
Mal winced slightly as he let the words he’d been going to say bounce around his head a bit and heard how wrong they were. Not inadequate, but pretty much beside the point. “Whatever, whenever, and if that’s nothing, ever, fine. This is us. Now. You and me at forty-eight and fifty. Neither of us is who we were at fourteen or nineteen or even two years ago. Does that make sense?”
“No.”
Mal sighed.
Brian smiled with half his face. The un-bandaged half. “I heard what you said to Josh outside the hospital.”
“Which part?”
“The bit about him having all of us. Places to go, people to rely on.”
“I wasn’t making it up.”
“I know.” Brian shifted a little. Sort of slumped. He put his shoulder to the wall, sighed, studied the floor, and blinked a couple of times. Something glinted in the air. His lashes were wet.
Mal shuffled in place for about a second before moving in. He half expected Brian to resist, but wasn’t at all surprised by the ferocity with which Brian clung to him. It wasn’t a hug. It was a hold that screamed, Don’t let me go. Please. And so Mal held on and listened as Brian shook quietly against his shoulder. Mal patted his back and stroked his hair. Curled his fingers around the back of Brian’s neck and held him close, the only sounds him whispering reassurances and Brian snuffling quietly. Then the quiet squall passed.
Brian inhaled deeply. “I’m so tired.”
“It’s late. Why don’t we get you to bed?”
Finding one of Mal’s hands, Brian threaded their fingers together. “You too.”
Upstairs, the bathroom door creaked open. Another door closed soon after. Josh going to bed. Squeezing Brian’s hand, Mal led him upstairs, past the heavy mist rolling out of the bathroom to Brian’s bedroom. “Want a bath or anything?” he asked. “A shower?”
“Maybe in the morning. Right now I just want sleep.”
Mal helped him with his clothes, moving his shirt out and over the bandage on the side of his face. “Do we need to check that before bed?”
“It can wait until tomorrow. It’s only an abrasion. Some bruising. I’ll be as handsome as always in a week or two.” His rogue smile had a softness to it, as though he didn’t care what he looked like in a week or two.
He helped Mal with his clothes. “How’re the legs?”
Mal considered the burning embers extending from his hips, the coal that was his right knee and the deep ache that formed the bones of his left leg. Donny had brought some Advil to the hospital along with the dry clothes, but the dose was wearing off. He dug in the pocket of his pants for the small bottle of pills. “I’m not even sure why they’re holding me up, to be perfectly honest.”
“Force of will.”
“That, yeah.” Mal shook a couple of pills into his hand.
“You going to dry swallow those or wait for me to get you a glass of water?”
Even now, after all that had happened, Brian wanted to take care of him. Mal waited for him to return, and accepted the water with a grateful smile.
They slid into opposite sides of the bed and met in the middle. Face to face. Tucking away all thought, Mal angled his chin forward and dropped a light kiss to Brian’s lips. Brian caught him around the back of the neck and pulled them closer, so they touched all the way down, chest to chest, hip to hip, toe to toe.
“Thank you for tonight,” Brian said.
“Always.”
“I’ll have to thank the others too.”
“They’ll be there again, Brian. For you and for Josh.”
Brian’s smile wavered and with their faces so close together, his expression was a soft and blurry thing. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I . . .” He sniffed. “Might not make sense, but that’s a part of why I was, um, upset before.”
“Oh, Brian.” Mal kissed him again. “Everything will be better in the morning.”
It was something Mal’s mother used to say, and the leading edge of the Montgomery family philosophy. Didn’t always prove true. Sometimes the mornings were the hardest part. But they were always followed by other mornings. Days. Weeks and months. Time had a habit of flowing forward and eventually, a morning came where everything really did feel better.
Snuggling in close to Brian, Mal vowed to make it happen more immediately. Or, he thought as fatigue started blotting out the edges of his consciousness, he could just stay here until it happened.
Brian stood outside Josh’s door, trying to calm the hammering in his chest.
His face hurt. Earlier, he’d cautiously peeled the bandage back and was not pleased with the yellow and red mess underneath. Nor the bruise circling his right eye. He looked as though he’d been in a fight—which he supposed he had. Felt like he had. His whole damn body ached . . . but none of it compared with the pain in his chest. The poke and stab as he stood outside a plain white door, wondering if his nephew had packed a bag and left. Again.
Brian wouldn’t blame him. He’d be upset, he decided. But he’d understand. Working his fingers into a complicated tangle in front of the doorknob, he added that to the process: upset, but understanding.
He pulled one hand free and raised it to knock. Figured it was his house and went for the knob. Then knocked anyway, because, damn it, Josh—if he was there, if he hadn’t packed up and run away again—was a guest. Josh invited him in and Brian opened the door.
Noon sunshine filled the room. The day after a snowstorm was always unnaturally bright. The sun had half a foot of snow piled up on every surface to bounce and reflect from, and it seemed most of that light blazed into the spare bedroom. Josh was there, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. He wore sweats, a pair of Brian’s woolliest socks, and a long-sleeve T-shirt of unknown origin. In his hands, he held his phone, his thumbs working in tandem at the lower edge of the screen.
He glanced up at Brian hovering in the doorway and gave him a cautious smile.
“Can I come in?” Brian asked.
“Yeah.” Josh put the phone aside.
Brian sat on the side of the bed. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay. Still kinda tired.”
“Good thing school is closed today, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Brian nodded toward the phone. “Did you talk to Ethan? Is everything okay with you guys?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because he’s your friend.” Brian breathed out. “I know I didn’t come across as his biggest fan, but, um, I think after yesterday you might have a clue where I was coming from.”
“My mom’s boyfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“Ethan isn’t like that. This whole thing isn’t like that. He broke up with his girlfriend a while ago, before I got here.”
“Okay.”
“Are you going to send me back to Mom?”
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
Scowling lightly, Josh wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. “Because you were being all nice to me last night. Everyone was.”
Brian held out a hand, hesitated, then gripped Josh’s knee. “I’m not good at warm-and-fuzzy-type speeches, so I’m going to say this as plainly as possible. Any kid under my roof has my protection. Blood relation or not. It could have been Ethan out in the snow last night and I’d have come found him. But you are my blood. You’re my nephew. You came to me for help and I’m here. For as long as you need me to be. So, no, I’m not going to send you home. In fact, I’m going to suggest a guardianship agreement to your mom. That means you’d be able to stay here for as long as you like. Through high school at least.”
Josh opened and closed his mouth before finally letting out a single word. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Why?”
“Were you listening to a word I just said?”
“Is it because I got tossed out?”
Brian sighed. Squeezed Josh’s knee and let go. “Partly? I mean, we share a horrific sort of kinship in that respect. Also, you’re my nephew. I can’t ignore that. Mostly, though? I like you, Josh. I want to get to know you better and I want to make sure you have the same opportunities I was given.”
“By the guy who took you in?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me about him?”
Brian swallowed. “Maybe. I’d like to.” As he said the words, they became true. He did want to share Tristan with his nephew, even if only to prove there were good and kind people in the world. “It’s hard for me to talk about back then. Because it was painful, but also because I’m not that boy anymore.”
Josh offered a sober nod. “I get that.”
“Good.”
A moment of silence passed, marked only by the minute swirl of dust near the bright windows. The flash of Josh’s phone as he received a message. The sound of a snow blower somewhere outside.