by T. J. Klune
THE KID was in love with Dominic.
I knew that.
I knew that.
It still took me by surprise.
But I was even more surprised when he started picking himself up.
Putting himself back together.
Piece by piece by piece.
I made sure he knew I was there.
But I still stepped back and let him do what he could on his own.
It hurt.
It was the right thing to do.
HE WENT back to therapy with Eddie Eagan.
I would have thought his license would have been revoked by now.
The damn beads still hung from the doorway.
And on and on it went.
WE CELEBRATED the Kid’s birthday.
My family plotted something against Gross Tree Bush Thing.
I had to step in to stop them because I loved it almost more than any of them.
“I WANT everything to go back the way it was,” he told me.
“It wasn’t always that great.”
“We had our moments, you and me.”
“We did, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, Papa Bear.”
“I’ll kill him, you know.”
That startled him. “What? Who?”
“Dominic.”
“Bear—”
“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. I don’t care that he’s family. I don’t care that he’s one of us. You were mine first, and I swear on all that I have, if he does you wrong, it’ll be the last thing he does.” I said this because no matter how much I disliked the idea, no matter how much I wanted him to be better before it happened, even I could see where they were headed. Dominic and Ty, it was just…. It was almost like it was inevitable.
We’re brothers, right?
Sure, Kid. Brothers.
And brothers stick together no matter what.
No matter what.
I CLUTCHED him close the morning he left for Tucson, eyeing Dominic warily over his shoulder, thinking, Please don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him.
And as they drove away, it felt like the end of one thing and the beginning of another.
HE WAS going to her.
I thought I was going insane.
What if she’s changed? it whispered. Or even worse, what if she’s the same? What if she drips little bits of poison in his ear and he comes back and despises you? She’ll tell him it was your fault she left. That she couldn’t deal with you. He was just a little guy, after all. Wasn’t he? A five-year-old with a mouth that a brain couldn’t quite catch up with, but he was just so little. And you were old enough to know the world had teeth, and when it latched on, shaking its head side to side, it would tear and shred. She knew that too and didn’t want to get pulled down with you. So she left, and she’ll tell him as much.
I held my phone and waited.
THEY CAME back, Dom and him, the Kid looking no worse for wear.
Except.
Except—
“So, you guys are fucking now?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
And everything pretty much exploded after that.
HE SAID, “I met Izzie.”
And goddamn, did that make me take a step back. “Isabelle?”
“Bear, she’s… amazing. She’s like me. Smarter, even. I don’t know if I have words to even describe her.” He shook his head. “No, I take that back. She’s like us. She’s you and me.”
“We can’t….”
“I know. There’s nothing… bad happening. I don’t think. She wasn’t bruised. But Julie was never like that.”
“There’s more than one type of abuse,” I muttered, thinking of those days when she’d be on the couch, the cigarette smoke thick and blue around her in that shitty fucking apartment with the splintered stairs. Get me some ice, she’d say. Get me some ice for my Jack. I don’t like it when it’s warm.
AND HERE it was. This moment. The one I’d been anticipating and dreading all at the same time.
He was going back.
We were staying here.
I’m proud of you. More than I could ever say. No matter what happens, I want you to know that.
I know.
Just remember your promise. Okay? Whatever you’ve decided to do. Please. That’s… that’s all I ask.
You and me. That’ll never change, Papa Bear.
“YOU CALL me,” I told him the morning he left. “Every day. No, two times a day. You know what? Don’t even worry about it. I’ll call you. Just make sure you answer.”
He laughed wetly, and I had to look away. I needed to hold on until he left.
It was just the three of us, just me, Otter, and the Kid. He’d already said goodbye to Dom earlier before he’d had to go on shift.
We stood in the driveway of the Green Monstrosity, and all I could think of was the day we moved in, the sheer delight on his face at the horrible color of this house, this house that Otter had bought for us. A place we could call our own, where we’d have a home at last. Things had been so, so different then, the Kid all knobs and knees.
And here we were now, saying goodbye.
Otter took a step forward and pulled the Kid—Tyson—into a hug, spinning him around like he used to when he was just a little guy. Ty laughed, and whatever was whispered between them was just for them.
Eventually Otter set him down and stepped back. He smiled at me, jerking his head toward Ty.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and stepped forward. “Keep your phone charged,” I said. “Just—it’s always a good idea to keep it charged.”
“I will,” he said, sounding amused.
“And make sure you pull over if you’re starting to feel tired.”
“I know.”
“And drink lots of water.”
“Bear.”
I looked up at him.
The day he left, Tyson Thompson was twenty years old. He was healthier than he’d been in years. His eyes were bright, and though he was nervous, I could tell he was excited. He was going out for the first time on his own. He thought he needed to prove something, and though I didn’t quite understand the why of it, I knew it was his choice. I had to trust Ty to know what he needed.
And somehow, I did.
“Okay,” I said, stopping my fussing over him and taking a step back. “You should probably head out. Wasting daylight, Kid.”
He frowned a little before he shook his head. “Right. Got a drive ahead of me. I’ll—uh. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Later.”
Otter sighed behind us.
The Kid turned toward the car.
And that was that.
I told myself that was that.
And it was.
And then—
He spun around again, a determined look on his face. He rushed toward me, and before I could do anything about it, my little brother launched himself at me. I caught him, barely, as we collided.
I hugged him as hard as I could.
“I love you,” he whispered fiercely. “More than anything in this world. And nothing will change that.”
I breathed him in.
We stood there, together, for a long time.
But eventually, I had to let him go.
So I did.
He wiped his eyes as he took a step back. And when he smiled at me, though my heart was breaking, I knew then that he’d be okay. “I’ll be okay,” he said, and I didn’t know if it was for my benefit or for his own.
“I know.”
He left without another word.
Otter was at my side, rubbing his hand up and down my back, as the car disappeared from sight.
“He’ll be all right,” Otter said finally. “And you will too. You’ll see.”
I knew he was right.
And I was ready for whatever came next.
The house felt a little emptier when we went back inside.
But I had a feeling it wouldn’t be for long.<
br />
THREE DAYS after he left, the Kid sent me a text.
It was a picture of a quote by Sylvia Plath.
I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.
“Okay,” I said as I breathed and breathed and breathed. “Okay.”
5. Where Bear Has Bro-Time with Creed
“OH MAN, I am so glad you guys are here,” Creed said when he opened the door. “Anna’s on a warpath.”
“What did you do?” Otter asked, smacking his brother upside the head as he walked into their house.
“I didn’t do anything,” Creed said, glaring at his brother as he closed the door behind us.
“You got me pregnant,” Anna shouted from the kitchen.
“Well, yeah. There’s that,” Creed said as he took our coats and hung them in the hall closet. It was toward the end of September, and there was already a nasty bite to the air. He lowered his voice. “But seriously, thank you for coming. I’m hoping she’ll be a little nicer since we have company. JJ’s already escaped to Mom and Dad’s, so he’s the lucky one. I’m not even joking. It’s like my wife has been possessed by a demon. I’m worried she’s going to try and eat my face. It wasn’t like this at JJ’s six-month mark. It was all sex and crying, sometimes even at the same time.”
Otter and I both grimaced at him for that.
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’re so lucky you’re gay. You get to impregnate a woman and then live elsewhere.”
“I heard that,” Anna said, appearing out of nowhere, causing all of us to jump.
“Meep,” Creed squeaked before flushing. “Hello, my love. You are looking radiant as usual.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m sure there are plenty of places you could go live if that’s what you want. Maybe Bear and Otter will take you in. Or you could go sleep on a park bench.”
“I like to walk around without much clothing on,” Otter said. “Probably not the best idea.”
“Ew,” Creed said.
“So awesome,” I said.
“I’d hit that,” Anna said.
We all gaped at her.
She rolled her eyes. “Please. Like I’m actually going to. For one, Otter’s married. Two, he’s married to Bear. And three, I feel no need to complete the set, even if I’ve already slept with two-thirds of the men here.”
“Whoa,” Creed breathed. “I adore you. And I’m slightly disgusted.”
“Also, I’m gay,” Otter said. “So. That probably puts a kink in your plans.”
“Right,” Anna said. “Because I don’t know how to use a strap-on. Ask Creed.” Then she whirled around, hand over her rounded stomach, and stomped back toward the kitchen.
Otter and I stared at Creed.
He fidgeted.
I said, “So, what exactly did she mean—”
“Come see the new countertops in the kitchen!” Creed said quite loudly. “They’re quartz.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” I whispered to Otter as we followed Creed.
“You’re the one that wanted to ask Anna what to expect during a pregnancy,” he whispered back. “I told you that we should just look it up on the internet.”
“The only things that I could learn off the internet was that some people have a pregnancy kink and others sometimes eat placenta after the child is born.”
“Jesus Christ, what the hell were you looking at?”
“You know I don’t understand how to internet!”
“You’re a teacher.”
“I am aware, thank you. Which is why those damn smartphones go in my desk before every class starts. But it’s okay! I’ve already written down every possible question that we could have and will interrogate—I mean interview, Anna and Creed about them tonight.”
Otter groaned. “Let me see the list.”
“No. You should have made your own if you want one so bad.”
“This isn’t going to end well.”
“Excuse you, this is going to be fantastic. We are going to be the best parents, because we’ll know everything when it happens.”
“Are you guys going to whisper-shout at each other all night?” Anna asked. “Because if you are, I just want to make sure I know you’re going to be wasting my time.”
“Stop whisper-shouting before it’s too late!” Creed whisper-shouted at us.
Anna turned slowly to stare at him.
“You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my entire life,” Creed said quickly.
Anna’s face softened just a little.
We all breathed a sigh of relief.
She turned back toward the stove, where multiple pots were bubbling.
“Come over here,” Creed said to us, glancing nervously at his wife. “Just come right next to me and look how awesome this quartz is.” Right now, he mouthed.
We stepped carefully toward him.
Anna hummed.
We froze.
She stirred one of the pots. It smelled like spaghetti sauce.
“Yeah,” Creed said loudly as he pulled out his phone. “Just look at the little flecks of crystal in the counter. Great, right?” He pointed at his phone, then pointed at me.
I frowned.
“Otter, can I get you anything to drink?” Anna asked. “You know, since your brother apparently doesn’t remember how take care of guests.”
“No, no,” Otter said hastily. “I’m good.”
“Hmm,” she said again but still didn’t turn around.
Creed jabbed his phone, then jabbed me.
Got it. I pulled out my phone, and he typed furiously.
ACT NORMAL SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING came through.
I squinted at him as I showed the message to Otter.
“Yeah,” Creed said loudly as he typed on his phone again. “We just wanted a different look for the kitchen, you know? Something that wasn’t granite. We thought—”
Anna coughed.
“Anna thought granite was a fad that’d go out of style soon, so we went with quartz.”
A new message: SHE’S LIKE SPIDERMAN. ALL HER SENSES ARE TINGLING. PREGNANCY MAKES YOU A SUPERHERO. OR A VILLAIN.
“Who are you texting?” Anna asked without turning around.
Creed started sweating. “No one, my queen. Light of my life.”
“Well, it must be someone. You are typing on your phone.”
Otter and I stared wide-eyed. Creed was right. She had superpowers.
“Just my parents, my flower. Wanting to make sure JJ was okay.”
“And is he?”
“Y-yes.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“Yes. I’m so sure. He’s doing wonderful. They’re eating mashed potatoes right this second, and he’s not even trying to put it up his nose.”
“Interesting. Because I could have sworn Alice said they were going to order pizza. I wonder why they would be having mashed potatoes.”
“Did I say mashed potatoes? I meant pepperoni.”
“Hmm,” she said.
SEE? SHE KNOWS ALL. SHE HEARS ALL. I THINK THE BABY IS EVIL. OR AWESOME. I DON’T KNOW WHICH.
“Bear and I were thinking of redoing the kitchen at some point,” Otter said, staring at the curve of Anna’s stomach.
“Make sure you don’t ask Creed for advice,” Anna said. “Unless you want your house to look like crap.”
“I’m terrible at home décor,” Creed said. “That much is evident. Color swatches? I don’t even know what those are. I shouldn’t be allowed to have opinions about redecorating. Or anything really.”
“I could come over and—”
“No,” Otter and I both blurted at the same time.
She looked at us over her shoulder.
“Um,” I said. “We couldn’t ask that of you.”
“Not in your delicate position,” Otter said.
“Delicate?” she asked evenly. “Huh. Delicate.”
“Why did you say that?” I hissed at Otter.
“
Oh no,” Creed groaned. “We’re all going to die.”
“Bear doesn’t know how to use the internet!” Otter said.
“Traitor,” I breathed.
“What, really?” Anna asked with a frown. “Jesus, Bear. Are you sure you’re in the right profession? JJ might be in your class one day, and I vouched for you to get that job. I don’t know how I feel about that. Also, Creed. Come here.”
“Save yourselves,” Creed muttered under his breath. “There’s no hope for me. While she’s feasting on my flesh, run.” He walked as if a man toward death.
Otter and I stared mournfully after him.
I thanked the lord that Creed was like his brother in that he had large amounts of muscle mass. I hoped it would be enough for Anna while we made our escape.
Anna did not, however, feast upon his flesh. Instead, she stood upon her tiptoes and kissed him sweetly on the lips. He sighed a little, shoulders relaxing, and like it was commonplace, his hand went to her stomach, rubbing along the curve of it. I thought maybe it was a diversionary tactic, and that in a moment, she’d rear up and unhinge her jaw before biting off Creed’s head.
Instead, she said, “Sorry,” as she pulled away. She was smiling up at him, and it was the same smile I remembered when I thought I’d loved her. “I’m being a jerk. I don’t mean it.”
“I know,” Creed said. “And I lied to you. I was texting Bear.”
“He said you were Spider-Man,” I answered dutifully. “Because of your superpowers. Also, I do know how to use the internet. I just don’t like looking up people selling breast milk on it.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “And why are you looking up people selling breast milk?”
“Well, now when you put it like that, I… have no idea.”
“Sometimes he doesn’t know why he does the things he does,” Otter said, and they shared a weird secret smile, like they had an inside joke with each other. They were commiserating.
I didn’t know how I felt about that.
WE’D SAT down to eat before Anna asked us how the surrogacy search was going. I knew it was coming, because we’d told our family that we’d already started the process. The people at the Northwest Surrogacy Center couldn’t have been nicer to us. Every interaction we’d had so far had been pleasant and easy. Some dark, twisted part of me had prepared for some flack that two married men were wanting to conceive, but that hadn’t been the case. If anything, we were treated just like every other couple, and that was something I should have expected. I’d spent much of my life preparing for the other shoe to drop with good reason. It was hard for me to trust something out of my control, but Otter said I was getting better at it. What had started out as tenuous was slowly gathering strength, to the point of where I didn’t dread every email or phone call we received from the surrogacy center.