All She Wanted (Letting Go)

by Deese, Nicole

  As we got into the car, the playful mood from minutes earlier had vanished.

  Though I knew my future would be different because of the changes I’d made, my past would always be my past. And just like a nail could be pulled out of a two by four, there would always be a hole left in its place.

  I had many, many holes.

  Chapter Nine

  Charlie

  Angie’s house was quaint, but it was brimming with life.

  There was no question that a seven year-old boy inhabited the residence, and we hadn’t even made it to the front door yet. A bike and scooter lay in the front yard, along with several transformers on the walkway outside. I smiled; I was looking forward to meeting Briggs’ family.

  It doesn’t mean anything.

  The woman that opened the door was striking. She had long, shiny blonde hair, brown eyes, and was nearly as tall as Briggs. She could be his twin. I was more than just a little surprised by their resemblance to each other. He had said she was only a year older than he was, but still, it was amazing.

  “Hello, Charlie! I’m so glad my brother invited you—thanks for coming. I was starting to think that Briggs only chose friends who smelled of smoke and rubber,” Angie said reaching out to shake my hand.

  Okay, I like her.

  “Well, don’t spill the beans just yet,” I leaned-in, whispering loud enough for Briggs to hear, “but I’m still on the fence about the whole friend thing.”

  She laughed. It was the same laugh that Briggs had when he was taken off guard—which was rare, but fabulous when it happened.

  Briggs pulled her in for a hug. Within their embrace I could see the love they had for one another—it was obvious they were family. A pang shot through my chest as I watched them. Would I ever mean that much to someone?

  My attention was immediately diverted when a young boy came running into the room, holding his arms out like an airplane, yelling loudly.

  “Uncle B!” the handsome blond boy called out mid-way through the air.

  “Code-man!” Briggs picked him up, spinning him in circles. Cody’s arms were tight around his uncle’s neck as he squealed from the speed.

  “Okay, okay, don’t make him puke on his birthday, Briggs!” Angie scolded.

  Briggs put him down and Cody wobbled through the room as if he had a bad case of vertigo—which he probably did.

  “Hey dude, come back here and let me introduce you to a really cool lady,” Briggs said squatting down to put his arm around Cody’s waist.

  Cody held out his hand to me politely as Briggs conducted a proper introduction between us. Cody was delightful—full of energy and spunk. I wondered if Briggs was like Cody when he was a boy. I smiled at the thought.

  “Did you come for my party?” Cody asked me, tilting his head.

  “I sure did, is that alright?”

  He looked at me curiously and then back to Briggs, “Does she know your rules?”

  Briggs laughed, “Buddy, this one writes her own rules—although it would be nothing short of a miracle to see her actually follow some of mine.”

  I punched Briggs in the shoulder and he laughed even harder.

  Angie filled me in on what Cody was talking about, as I didn’t have a clue. Apparently, there was some water balloon fight, which of course, Briggs had made up. After seeing how he played poker, I was plenty skeptical of his ability to lead a small group of children in a safe water balloon war. He seemed to have misplaced the "plays well with others” skill when it came to games.

  While Briggs and Cody went outside to look at Angie’s car, I stayed to help her prepare for the big taco feast. She was expecting about ten boys as well as a handful of parents.

  She was a brave woman.

  Briggs:

  “So how’s first grade treatin’ ya, bud?” I asked Cody.

  “It’s good. I like recess.”

  I smiled. Kid after my own heart.

  “Cool. Can you hand me that wrench?”

  “Yeah.”

  Cody was a good kid—with an even better heart.

  He had more energy than most people should be allowed, but in my opinion, too much was better than not enough. After Angie enrolled him in soccer though, he had settled down quite a bit. Even his focus during school hours seemed to be better. All he needed was a good outlet, something to hone some of that extra drive of his.

  He was like looking in a mirror.

  “Okay bud, do you think you could be my tool man once I go under the car? I’ll need you to hand me a few things while I’m down there.”

  The old Honda Civic had seen better days, but it was still chuggin’ along. Angie was in no shape to buy another vehicle, so the longer we could make this one last, the better. She had been stripped bare financially after her divorce and medical bills, and was finally starting to get back on her feet. So far, she had been doing well since she moved north with Cody; her boss loved her, and the pay was decent.

  “Sure! Can I go under there too, Uncle B?”

  “Not this time Code, but soon…okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, disappointedly.

  As I pulled out the old filter and changed out the oil, Cody never left my side. He watched my every move, and I let him help with anything that his small hands could turn or lift. He loved it.

  And I loved that he loved it.

  “How’s your mom?” I asked.

  I talked to Angie a couple of times a week, but Cody’s perspective was always insightful. I asked him about her every time we were alone.

  “Fine…I guess.”

  I was bent over the engine working on some fried spark plugs, when I heard the change in his tone. I knew there was something he wasn’t saying.

  “What’s up, dude? You can tell me,” I said, wiping the sweat from my eyes with my sleeve so I could see him clearer.

  “It’s just that…I don’t get to play soccer anymore. Mom said I won’t be able to start in the spring with my friends,” he said, kicking some rocks toward the lawn.

  Now that got my attention. Why hadn’t Angie mentioned that?

  “Do you know why?” I asked.

  He shook his head, “No, but I don’t think I was supposed to tell you.”

  “Why not?” I asked, having a pretty good idea without him even having to say another word.

  “Cause she said that we need to be a team—since it’s just me and her now, and that sometimes teams have to…have to give stuff up so they can stay together.”

  My jaw clinched tight as I processed his words for a second more.

  “Okay, well don’t worry about it Code. I’ll talk with her.”

  I sure will.

  “Alright. Can I start filling the water balloons up now? Mom said I had to wait for you to get here first.”

  “Sure, I can be out there in about thirty minutes. I just need to wrap this up and then wash my hands,” I said, holding them up to his face, eliciting a big laugh from him, “Thanks for your help handy-man.”

  He smiled, running up the driveway to the side yard.

  I took a deep breath before leaning over the engine once more.

  And thanks for the info.

  Charlie

  I had tears streaming down my face, and it wasn’t just from cutting the onions. For the last hour and a half Angie had given me the reality TV version of what life with Briggs had been like growing up. I was bursting with laughter. My mind was on overdrive trying to recall all these new fun facts and details so I could use them later.

  Even through all of our laughter though, there was one thought I kept coming back to: She had never mentioned their parents. I realized then that Briggs had never spoken of them either. I logged this detail away in the back of my mind; maybe I would ask him about it, someday.

  “He was a handful back then—still is,” she said, while sweeping her hair up into a ponytail.

  “That he is,” I replied softly.

  I felt her eyes on me as I scooped the remaining onions from
the cutting board into a serving bowl.

  “Ya know, he’s talked about you quite a bit to me, Charlie. You’ve made a pretty big impression, I’d say,” she said in a tone that seemed to be leading somewhere…somewhere I wasn’t sure I wanted to be led.

  I felt my cheeks grow warm.

  “Oh…well, his life’s been kinda thrown for a loop these last couple of weeks, ya know, with moving above our garage and all, ” I said carefully.

  “I don’t think that’s what’s thrown him for a loop,” she teased.

  I blushed again under her scrutiny. Her smile was sweet, yet her words held a boldness that surprised me.

  “I’ve wondered for a long time if Briggs would ever stop long enough to…” She paused as if reflecting on some personal revelation. I stayed quiet, uncertain if I should even be in this conversation at all, “let himself be known.”

  When she turned toward the stove to stir the meat, my curiosity won out.

  “What did he need to stop?” I asked quietly.

  “Lying to himself.”

  I heard a door slam shut and I jumped, nearly knocking the bowl of lettuce off the counter in the process.

  Briggs

  “Ang…can I have a word with you, please? Outside.”

  “The kids are going to be here in twenty minutes Briggs… can it wait?”

  “No,” I said firmly.

  She handed the wooden spoon to Charlie and followed me out the door. Charlie had a strange look on her face when I came in, but I didn’t have enough focus to decipher it. I needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with Angie.

  She put her hand on her hip.

  “You know, it’s poor manners to leave your guest alone-” Angie started.

  “Nope, that’s not gonna work. You can’t make this about me, Ang.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are you telling my nephew that there are only two players on your team? And why isn’t he going to play soccer in the spring?” I asked her—compassion temporarily lacking from my tone.

  She threw her head back in frustration.

  So, it’s money.

  The only time I ever saw that face, money was involved—or the lack thereof.

  “My hours got cut—it’s not forever, but business has been slow lately. It should pick up again around Mother’s day, but since Valentines it’s just been…dead.”

  She didn’t look at me, instead she stared at the tree just beyond me.

  “Ang…why didn’t you tell me?” I touched her shoulder, forcing her see me.

  “You’ve given up so much for us B, and I’m just so tired of being needy. Can’t you understand that?” she asked softly.

  I was really trying to, but when it came to them…

  I shook my head.

  “No, I can’t,” I said, “Because I am a part of this team too, Angie. You don’t get to shut me out when you’re in need. I make enough to help you and Cody, and there’s no other place I’d rather invest than in the two of you. Please don’t do this again. I don’t like having to hear it from a seven year-old boy.”

  She nodded, though I could tell she didn’t like what I had said. I didn’t care; she would have to deal with it. There was a time and place for independence, but this wasn’t that time—not when I was more than capable of helping them.

  “I’m paying for his soccer, and I want to contribute more each month—at least for groceries and gas,” I said firmly.

  She started to protest, but this time I found that quiet compassion that lived somewhere deep inside me. I pulled her in for a hug.

  “We are still a team Angie...it will always be us against the world.”

  Charlie

  I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

  In fact, I had tried to drown their voices out by humming to myself, but neither of them were soft-spoken—especially the male one. The door had been left open, leaving their voices to carry inside—inside to where I stood, trying to stir the ground beef back to life.

  I was certain I had probably ruined it by now, but I had to calm my nerves somehow.

  At first I was worried that Briggs had heard us talking about him (yes, I was aware of the irony), but their tones had indicated otherwise. Though the story of Briggs wearing a cowboy hat to bed for nearly a year was funny, there was nothing amusing about the conversation he was currently having with his sister.

  My heart skipped a beat when she admitted that her hours had been cut, I hated to hear anyone was struggling—but this felt especially personal to me. I felt hot tears spring to my eyes as Briggs offered his help and support. Although his reaction to the news was noble—his words didn’t shock me.

  This was Briggs.

  Whatever reason he saw himself as something other than a good man boggled my mind, because this man, the one I had practically lived with for the last couple of weeks, had not been made overnight. There were people who worked their whole lives to make small improvements to their character, but Briggs was not a new transformation. He was practiced in loyalty, and it showed.

  What would it have been like to have brother like that?

  To have been part of a team?

  **********

  I never knew the word for lonely, before I came to live with the Lexingtons.

  Lonely had been my only existence.

  It knew me. It called to me. It was me.

  There was no one who came in the night if I was scared of the dark, or of the shadows, or of the noises. There was no one to hear me cry, or help me if I was sick. There was no one to hug me or kiss me, or tell me they loved me.

  It was just me and lonely.

  One and the same.

  Briggs

  “Charlie?”

  She jumped, the wooden spoon slipping from her hand, clanging against the tile floor.

  “Oh, hi. Sorry,” she said bending to retrieve the spoon and wash it off in the sink, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  I studied her. The look on her face before I had said her name was the one I had seen only a handful of times. It was the one that seemed to be marinated in sad, the one that felt like a blow to my chest.

  She smiled, turning to me with her laughing eyes, causing me to forget my every thought.

  “Did you need me?” she asked.

  More than you know.

  I shook my head and stared at the floor. “Uh, I just wanted you to know that I’ll be outside with Cody filling up water balloons…you’re welcome to join us.”

  “Oh, okay…sure,” she said looking at the stovetop and wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, “I think I’ve probably done more to detract from his meal than anything else…”

  You and detract could never be in the same sentence.

  “Well, if kids can eat jelly beans called booger and vomit…then I’m pretty sure they can handle eating your taco meat.”

  She laughed and walked passed me, heading out to the backyard.

  **********

  One would have thought Angie was hosting the team from Friday Night Lights in her backyard, by the noise alone. These kids were crazy.

  Using two fingers, I whistled, the sound piercing through the yard like a rocket launch.

  The boys quieted immediately, freezing in their tracks.

  “Alright, listen up!”

  Hey, that was kind of awesome.

  If only I could get Charlie to listen to me like that.

  I smiled at the thought.

  “In two minutes we will head across the street together toward the field. You will walk in a single-file line. You will not push, fight, hit, wrestle, or give wedgies without my permission to do so,” I paused for dramatic effect. Some kids chuckled. “Just like the year before, there are new rules, so listen up. Each of you will work with a partner. There are six teams represented here. Each team has a color—which matches the color of balloon you will go for. The object is to get as many of your team’s balloons off of the giant tarp and into your team’s bucket. Does everyone understand so far?”

&
nbsp; The kids cheered wildly.

  “What’s the catch?” Angie yelled from the patio.

  I smiled wickedly.

  “There can only be one team member on the tarp at any given time. The other one should be guarding the bucket. Whatever team has the most balloons in the end—of their color—will be the winners. You may pop any color balloon you see that is not your team’s color.”

  “Can we steal balloons from inside the buckets, Uncle B?” Cody asked.

  “Good question, Cody…yes, you can.”

  Excited energy sizzled throughout the young crowd.

  “Line up!”

  My eyes roamed the yard as each kid ran to join the line. It was then that I saw Charlie roll up her jeans and kick off her heels. The flip-flops she was sliding her feet into looked a couple sizes too big for her. They’re probably Angie’s.

  When she joined the line, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  She was barely a head taller than Cody’s birthday buddies.

  This is gonna be good.

  Charlie

  Thankfully, Angie had loaned me a pair of flip-flops so that I could participate in the annual game of water wars. I was grateful for them. She had decided to stay back with some of the other parents so that she could frost the cake, but as I joined the group, she patted me on the shoulder and wished me luck. I hoped I had only imagined the forewarning in her voice.

  My partner, a kid named Kevin, had already deemed me “bucket guard”. I was bummed at first, but quickly reminded myself that I was twenty-one; he was eight.

  Our color was red.

  The tarp that lay in the center of the field was huge and scattered with at least three hundred water balloons. Apparently several parents had contributed to the small supply, which I had helped fill up. They had also squirted the tarp with dish soap. I had laughed several times during the game explanation, thinking that Briggs had taken his dramatics a little too far, but now I found myself nervous. These boys—though young—looked ruthless, as did Briggs.

  He had teamed up with the birthday boy, and lucky for me he was several buckets away from team red. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the crossfire of Briggs. It wouldn’t end well for me, I was certain of that.