by Lori L. Otto
“To be fair, honey, Livvy didn’t learn that until she was twelve,” my mom says. “And with some things, it was much later.”
“That’s not true!” I argue, knowing she’s kidding.
Dad’s expression is playful as they stare at one another, Mom challenging him. “Don’t encourage him, please,” he says softly.
My mother kisses Trey’s cheek after his last tear has fallen. “You’re fine, right, Trey? My little baby boy?”
“I’m not a baby,” he says, his forehead crinkled. The expression looks so much like one Dad would make.
“No?” Mom asks. “Then no more tears.” She stands up and ruffles his hair, returning to the stove to help Dad. They kiss before tending to the food they’ve been preparing. “Liv, why don’t you two set the table?”
I hand Jon the plates and get out the silverware, following him around the table until all the places are arranged. “Are you getting ready for your finals?” Dad asks Jon as we all sit down.
“I’m starting to study. I have two major projects to finish up, but I feel good about them both.”
“How do you think your grades are?”
“A’s,” Jon says, then shrugs. “So far, nothing has really been too challenging this year. If you go to class, and have half a brain, you’ll do fine there.”
“I think your brain might be a little more impressive than most,” Dad says. “I’m impressed, anyway.”
“Thanks, Jack,” my boyfriend says, and I smile proudly. “That means a lot to me.” Dad nods and takes a bite.
“When will you see your family again?” Mom asks.
“I’m, ummm...” Jon hesitates, looking at me. “I think I’ll visit this summer.”
I give him a curious glance, wondering why he paused.
“I thought, you know, maybe,” he stammers, suddenly nervous, “that Livvy might be able to come out and see everyone for a few days. My mom’s been asking about her. My brothers would like to see her, too.”
Dad shifts in his chair, his eyes focused on the food in front of him.
“We’d be staying with my aunt. She’d have her own room,” Jon tries to convince them. “I’ll room with one of my brothers, it’s not a problem. And I wouldn’t dream of...” His voice trails off. “... as a guest in her house, and–”
“I’ll think about it, Jon.”
I put my hand on Jon’s arm, wondering why he hadn’t run the idea past me first. “Thanks,” Jon says with a sigh, pulling his arm back and linking his fingers with mine.
Dad’s cell phone vibrates on the counter, but he ignores it, as he normally does at dinner time. “Jon, has Livvy said anything to you about her college choice?”
“You’ve made a decision?” he asks expectantly.
I shake my head as Mom’s cell phone rings in her purse. My parents look at one another, recognizing that someone’s trying to get in touch with them. Dad goes to her purse and checks out the name on the display.
“It’s Steven,” he says quickly as he answers it. “Everything okay? Yeah?” he says with a smile. “She’s here!” Dad announces.
“Whose?” my mom and I ask together.
“Kaydra,” Dad laughs, then reminds us that Lexi’s not due for another month. He listens to his brother again. “Congratulations. That’s beautiful, Stevie. Elizabeth,” he says to us. “They’re naming her after our grandmother.”
“Where are they?” Mom asks.
“Central,” Dad says, then returns to the call. “We’d love to come up. We’re just finishing dinner... forty-five minutes? Okay, I’ll see you then.”
“How much does she weigh?” Mom asks after he hangs up.
“I don’t know,” Dad says.
“How long?”
“Emi, I don’t know,” he laughs. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to ask.”
“You act like you never had a child, Jacks,” she says, only slightly frustrated. “I wonder who she looks like.”
“I don’t know. I hope she looks like Kaydra. Stevie and Daniel got all Holland genes.”
“Kaydra’s so pretty,” I jump in. “I hope she looks like her, too.”
“Liv, would you mind cleaning up and watching your brother while we go to the hospital? You can stop by and see them tomorrow after school.”
“No, that’s fine, Dad.”
“Jackson has some math homework, too.”
“Jon said he’d play catch with me!” Trey starts to whine again.
“Trey,” Mom says, looking at him in disbelief. “Jon’s still going to play catch with you after dinner.”
“I thought he was going to leave, too,” he says with a pout.
“Jon can stay until curfew. Nine-thirty,” Dad reminds us. “We’ll probably be home by then, but if we’re not, Jon, can you make it back to campus?”
“I’ll take a bus, yeah,” Jon says.
As soon as my parents are finished eating, they leave for the hospital and I send Jon and Trey out back to play catch while I clean up the kitchen. I’m hoping Jon and I will have a little time to ourselves after I put Trey to bed... and I’m trying to figure out how I can convince him to get there before his normal bedtime.
As soon as the dishes are done, I grab my dad’s mitt and join Trey and Jon in the backyard. “Keep away!” I suggest.
“From?” Jon asks.
“Trey, of course,” I tell him, as if it’s obvious.
“That’s not fair!” my brother says.
“Your sister can’t catch, buddy,” Jon says. “If you get the ball away, it’ll be her turn.”
“Hey!” I say in defense. “My dad made me play catch before he came along.”
“And you’ve played how many times since he was born?”
“Hush,” I tell him, glaring at him playfully as I catch the first ball he tosses my way. “See?” I throw it back to him, and he has to run to catch the ball because my aim’s off.
“Oh, you can’t throw!” he taunts me.
“My hand’s not quite healed yet,” I lie. Although there’s a little bit of lingering pain, it doesn’t affect anything. The only thing I’d truly been worried about was painting, and the act of holding the brush and making strokes was actually part of my therapy. I was back to normal in no time–physically, at least. Painting still doesn’t feel as natural as it used to.
“Excuses,” he says, shaking his head. “Trey, do you ever play football?”
“Sometimes.”
“You watch it on TV?”
“Yeah,” he says.
“Do you know how to tackle?”
“Yeah!” my brother exclaims with a jump.
“Let’s get her!”
“No!” I squeal, trying to find an escape. They flank me from both sides, and Jon holds my arms as my brother rams into my legs. I fall on purpose for Trey’s sake. He pins me down, laughing hysterically.
“You’re gonna regret that,” I tell him, freeing myself from Jon’s grasp and rolling over to get my brother off of me. I shove him into the grass gently and start tickling just below his ribs.
“Nooo!” he barely manages to say through his laughter. “Jon, help!”
“How dare you prey on the weak!” Jon comes to my brother’s rescue, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me up. “Get her behind the knees, Trey,” Jon says, directing him to one of my most ticklish areas. This time, Jon holds me against his body firmly, my back to his chest. Trying to escape my brother, I fall to my knees, taking Jon with me. I try to pry his hands loose, but he doesn’t relent. “Go grab the ball, buddy,” he says. My brother starts across the lawn.
“What are you going to do with that?” I ask him. Jon glances at Trey quickly, then moves in next to me swiftly, kissing me softly.
“Nothing. I just needed to do that.”
“Got it!” Trey says. I look at him just in time to see him launching the ball directly at us. Somehow, Jon swats the ball away just before it hits my head.
“Whoa, Trey,” Jon says. “Hey, you
can’t throw the ball until someone’s ready to catch it. That could have hurt.”
“But you told me to get it!” he whines, not liking being scolded. “I thought you were ready.”
Jon stands up, picking up the ball on the way over to my brother. “It’s okay,” Jon says. He kneels in front of Trey and hands him the ball. “Don’t trip on that,” he says, flicking my brother’s bottom lip gently with the back of his thumb. “Come on, let’s get back to keep away.” Trey smiles as Jon walks behind me, putting me in the middle.
“Don’t hit me,” I say to my brother.
“I don’t think he inherited your dad’s arm,” Jon says only loudly enough for me to hear. “If he had, we’d be icing down your head right now.”
“He’s got better aim than I do,” I remind him, pretending to try to get the ball that my brother throws to Jon.
“True,” he says, throwing it back to Trey. This continues for a few rounds, but this wasn’t my purpose of playing with them. I’d wanted to wear my brother out, and instead, I’m the one doing all the running.
“Hey, why don’t you guys get back to playing catch,” I suggest.
“Doesn’t he have homework?”
“Oh, yeah.” I’d forgotten.
“Nooo!” Trey says. “I don’t want to do my homework.”
“It’s math?” I ask him.
“Yeah.”
“What would you rather do, Trey? Do you want to do your homework, or do you want to get ready for bed and watch a movie on my laptop before you go to sleep?”
“Cars!” he exclaims.
“What are you doing?” Jon asks.
“I guess I’m going to do a seven-year-old’s math homework.”
“Olivia,” Jon says with disapproval.
“He’s smart. He normally breezes through it anyway.”
“Then let him do it,” he says.
I walk over to him to speak to him privately. “I want some time alone with you.”
“Baby, let’s get his homework down, you can put him to bed, and maybe we’ll have some time after that. It’s fine. We normally don’t get time to ourselves on Wednesdays anyway.”
“But we could tonight,” I plead with him. “You don’t want to?”
“Liv, they left us in charge of him... let’s be responsible and do what they asked us to do.”
I take the ball from Jon’s mitt and start toward the house. “Come on, Trey. Jon says you have to do your homework.”
“Liv,” Jon calls to me, but I don’t turn around. I open the door and follow my brother inside.
“I don’t want to!” my brother cries.
“Too bad. Go get your book. But hey,” I tell Trey, meeting Jon’s eyes across the kitchen. “Jon’s gonna help. He apparently wants to spend time with you instead of me.”
This makes Trey happy. It just pisses me off. I can tell from Jon’s expression that he’s not thrilled with me, either.
“I’m going downstairs.”
“Fine,” he answers as he takes a seat at the dining room table.
“Fine.”
When I get to my room, I consider doing some painting, but I don’t feel up to it. I don’t like rejection, and I am definitely feeling rejected tonight. After closing my door, a few tears escape my eyes, but I pull myself together before I get too upset. I get my headphones out of my night stand and my iPod out of my bag and settle into bed, closing my eyes and escaping in the music of my favorite band.
It’s like he had no intention of spending time with me when he came over. From the time I met him at the door, it seemed like he was trying to make plans with my brother. Who cares what I want?
I look back into the night stand and take out the sketch book that’s been stashed away for the better part of a year. So much of this leather-bound book is about rejection that I’m sure I’ll find something that speaks to me. I go from drawings to lyrics to doodles and back again until I find something I’d never noticed before.
Call Mom. A note he left to himself. I wonder why he needed to call her. I wonder if she brought him the kind of comfort she always brought me. I wish she was still around to talk to. If she was, though, is this stupid fight what I’d choose to talk to her about?
No. Because it’s a stupid fight. I doubt Nate ever went to Granna to talk about fights he had with Mom. Did they fight? When they realized they were in love, did one of them ever walk out on the other? I wonder whose side Granna would take. I saw how loyal she was to my mother. I bet she’d take her side. The idea makes me smile.
I realize, though, she wouldn’t take my side in this. Jon misses his brothers. Livvy, you’re being selfish. I can actually hear Granna telling me this. And like always, I know she’s honest and I know she’s right.
I roll my eyes, recognizing that I’m totally in the wrong. I put the book back in my drawer, and am startled to hear his footsteps after I take my headphones off.
“Hey,” I say to him.
“I’m going to go. Trey’s upstairs watching TV. His homework’s done.”
“Thanks.”
“Yeah,” he says, turning to leave.
“Jon, I’m sorry.” He takes two more steps before stopping. I can see his shoulders rise and fall as he sighs. Running his hand through his hair, he turns around.
“Livvy, remember how you said we needed to make the most out of the time we have together?”
“I know,” I say remorsefully.
“We should take advantage of nights like this... and enjoy whatever we have to do, even if we can’t be alone.”
“I know,” I repeat. “I was a brat tonight, and I’m really sorry.”
“I miss my brothers, baby. I miss being a big brother to them. I like spending time with Trey because he lets me be that again.”
“You’ll always be their big brother, Jon.”
“I don’t ever want to forget how to be what they need.”
“You can’t. That’s not something you forget. It’s innate. When you see them this summer, after a few hours, it will be like they never left... and it’ll be just as hard to leave them. It will be like no time has passed. And hey, I’m sure if you wanted them to come visit you for a week or two over the summer, they could stay here with us.”
He smiles as his eyes shift to the floor and his hands tuck into the front pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. I’m sure they could. Thanks.”
“I’m serious, Jon. I’ll talk to my parents.”
“That’s not necessary. They won’t be coming up here.”
“It’s just something to think about. And it wouldn’t be a handout if Dad lets me go with you to Utah. It would be a trade,” I reason with him.
“Okay.” His smile is still sad. “I’m going to head out.”
“But we still have an hour,” I say, surprised that he’s still thinking of leaving. “I’m sorry, Jon, really. Stay until curfew?”
“Promise we won’t have to fight? I really don’t want that.”
“I promise. Should we go watch Cars with Trey?”
He nods and holds his hand out for me to take it. I do, and we go upstairs, cuddling together on the couch and reciting the words to a movie we’d both seen way too many times.
CHAPTER 24
Over the last few weeks of school, it seemed like Jon was determined to take advantage of every minute we were together. He was affectionate and attentive. He helped me study for finals and gave me back rubs when I got stressed. He came over every opportunity he had, and we’d kept up our normal Saturday dates. We’d managed to go back to the hotel in West Harrison one Saturday afternoon with some money he had left over and some money I’d put aside. Although he did make love to me, the majority of our time was spent talking to one another about the future. It was much easier for me to talk about it this time, having been through what we had after Spring Break.
A part of me wishes we could go again today, but all of my grandparents are in the city for tomorrow’s graduation, and Dad has planned a big barbecue at
our house tonight. Jon and I are still able to leave later to go to the theater after dinner, but there’s no way we can make it to the hotel and back in that amount of time.
Before the grilling begins, my uncles, some of my cousins and my Dad all head to Central park to play some touch football. Jon’s invited, but he’s the only man to stay behind, aside from Dad’s father and Mom’s stepdad.
There’s not a single room in the house for us to be alone, and with two newborns, it’s impossible to find any peace and quiet. While Lexi’s feeding her little boy, I try to rock Elizabeth to sleep. Kaydra’s in my room, trying to get in a nap, too.
Jon’s sitting next to me, talking to Grandpa Holland about the city planning class he just completed. I can tell my grandfather is truly interested, and it’s always good to see my boyfriend talking about things he’s passionate about. Jon’s pinky finger never leaves my leg as it lightly scratches the skin above my knee, sometimes making room for his whole hand. The gesture is sweet. If I wasn’t holding a baby, I’d return the gentle touches.
“So you said Jacks is letting you go with Jon to Utah?” Lexi asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Just for four days in July,” I tell her. “Jon will be there longer.”
“When’s he going?”
“I think just a few days before me,” I say softly. “We try not to talk about time we have to spend apart.” I get sad just thinking about it.
“You act like it’s a lifetime,” she kids me. “A few days?” She laughs lightly.
“Maybe you’re right.” Elizabeth starts to get fussy.
“Her pacifier’s right there,” Lexi says, nodding to the object on the coffee table. Jon picks it up and puts it up to her mouth. She takes it quickly and immediately closes her eyes. He touches my cousin’s cheek with the back of his hand before returning his fingers to my knee and getting back to the conversation with Grandpa. I lean into him, and he makes room for me by putting his arm around my shoulder. I shift my body, angling my knee toward him, placing my head on his shoulder. His hand plays with my hair, and at that very second, the entire house goes quiet.
“You’ve still got the touch,” Grandma Hennigan says to me. “You were the only one to get Trey to go to sleep some nights. Do you remember that?”