by Mel Ballew
“I’m sorry about your puppy. Bet you miss him, huh?” Lowering my head, I fiddle with the flaky part on top of the brownie. Crumbs fall down and land on the floor beside my feet. This is me, now. I may not know what I am feeling, but I know I am in pieces. I brush the emotion aside, along with the fallen crumbs, moving my feet back and forth trying my best to hide both.
“My mom says its grief. I was crying all the time because I was afraid he’d get lonely being in the ground all by himself. I mean, he always slept with me and he was going to be alone and cold, lying under the dirt. I wrapped him in his favorite blanket hoping it’d help. I still hope it helps keep him warm. It bothers me some, but I get to visit him every day if I want. I even take him biscuits.”
“Biscuits?” I question, smiling. For some reason, this seems funny to me.
“Yeah. He loved them,” she replies. She grabs two brownies from the tray, yells, “Eat lots of chocolate. It helps,” and skips off.
I stare after her, confused over my new interest in this one girl, and my new love for brownies. Both help me learn how fear and grief go hand-in-hand.
“What we have most to fear is failure of the heart”
Sonia Johnson
Chapter Three
2005
Age 12
Ironic our dad’s wake three years ago became like an awakening for me. Almost. That one day¸ Elle and I said our final goodbyes to him, and to this day, we have not been the same. We were hurt, anxious, and alone. Mostly, we were confused. Strange how we could grieve for a man who beat our mother and us. This same man was supposed to provide for us, protect us, and love us without conditions. We were supposed to love him, and despite these things, we did. But while he was alive, he showed us none of the things he should have. Instead, he showed us how to be afraid, and how to find ways to hide in order to survive. His form of love wasn’t love at all, or was it?
It was also the same day we met S’renaty James, or Ren to us, who took us both by surprise with her cheerfulness. Mostly, she became best friends with Elle when she waltzed over to her, as she did with me earlier at the buffet table. Only, with Elle, they bonded over dolls and sealed their friendship by pushing each other on the swing. She had Elle laughing, just as she had me smiling. They’ve been inseparable ever since.
A lot has changed since that day.
Today is no exception.
*
“Come here, Tucker. Let me look at you.” Mom smiles at me and tugs me closer. She reaches for the tie dressing up the monkey suit I’m wearing. From the look on her face, I’d argue that my mother doesn’t share the same feelings I do.
Sensing my unease, she says, “You are so handsome. You’re twelve, going to be thirteen soon. You’re my little grown-up man.” A twinkle in her eyes lets me know I will have to dig deep to get through this day. Her pride leaves me feeling inadequate. Unlike Elle, who is all too happy with today’s events, I am far from comfortable.
Parts of me want my mom happy. After all she’s been through, she has earned happiness. She deserves to have someone love her as much as we love her. But, why can’t that just be Elle and me? Why aren’t we enough? I mean, she is the only person we have, and the only one who has ever been there for us. Aren’t we enough for her?
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, letting my words trail off in fear of disappointing her. I cannot even look at her, so my eyes drift toward my feet. This is her day so I have to put on my happy face, right?
Mom straightens my tie, pushing the knot closer to my throat. I swear I’m going to choke to death. I add a quick, happy-happy, fake smile, wiggling out of her grip while biting the skin around my nails.
Saved by the excitement coming from my sister, she lets go of me after brushing my hand away from my mouth. She hates when I bite my nails or the skin around them.
“Mom, can I wear some lip-gloss? I’m twelve now, almost a teenager, you know, and all of the girls at school are already wearing it,” Elle begs her, a huge smile plastered on her face.
At first, mom says nothing, almost ignoring her pleas. Elle stiffens. She places her hands on her hips and draws down her eyebrows, mimicking her displeasure. “Mom, should I wear the one that’s tinted pink? It’d match this beautiful dress you picked out. It’d match your dress, too. Pink it is.” She relaxes as she hurries over to the full-length mirror to apply the gloss. Mom looks at me, rolls her eyes, and shakes her head in defeat.
“Do you want some pink lip-gloss, too, Tuck?” Mom teases.
We both chuckle. She curls her fingers around the lapels of my suit, gives each a quick tug, and then she leans in closer to kiss my cheek.
“Ah, Tucker. We’ll be happy. This is good for us. You’ll see.” The hope in her voices makes me pray she’s right. Then, I remind myself praying doesn’t work.
I reply in a quiet voice, “Sure.”
The music coming from the church piano saves me. It’s our signal to line up near the closed double doors. Smiling past the fear in my heart and swallowing my panic of what this will mean for us now, I slouch down and make my way over next to Elle.
The pre-bridal song signals it is time to walk through the doors ahead of our mother. Elle squeezes my hand. “C’mon, we can do this.”
*
Bette Midler sings about heroes and wings, and the lyrics swirl around the reception hall like bees drawn to honey.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a hero.
“Dance with me, Tuck!” Elle shouts, lunging out of nowhere, linking her elbow through mine, and pulling me out onto the dance floor.
At my sister’s sudden appearance, I reconsider my previous thought. Yeah, I’ve had one all along.
In the back of my head, I hear the voice of a dead man. “Boys don’t dance. That’s for pussies, son.” I try to resist Elle, but lose the struggle. “All right. All right. Stop tugging so hard,” I hiss through a mangled snort, dreading this.
Today marks the wedding of my mother to none other than “Mr. Kind Eyes” or “Mr. Kind and Nice.” Well, it’s actually Mr. Derringer, Tom Derringer to be exact. And he is my mother’s new husband.
Seeing them dance together proves they’re happy, but I still don’t want to admit it, not even now. Elle tugs my arm again. This time, she practically drags me closer to our mother and Tom. “C’mon, Tuck,” she says while pulling me behind her.
“No, Elle. I’m, I’m… We’re fine where we are. Let’s give them some space,” I counter, trying to haul her backward, away from him.
Just then, our gazes meet. He really does have kind eyes. After dad’s funeral, he pursued our mother by being polite and offering to help around the house with odd jobs. Once he wormed his way into our lives, he asked her out to dinner. Before long, even I had to concede kindness is a part of his true nature. One thing led to another, and here we are, dancing to Bette Midler at their wedding reception.
I pull my stare away first.
“So, you wanna know something?” I whisper into Elle’s ear.
She draws herself back a little and peers up at me. “What?”
I lean into her. “Elle, you have always been MY hero.”
Her feet stop moving. I can tell she is flabbergasted, surprised, maybe even stunned by my sudden declaration. It’s not often I profess my brotherly love to my twin.
She looks up at me. “No, Tuck, you are mine.”
Now I am astonished by her unexpected reply.
My entire world shifts. Guarding Elle has always been my priority. I have tried my best to be the one to show her love, still her fear, and protect her. It could be said, I’ve been her shelter from the fiery hell raining down on us, otherwise known as our childhood love from our dad. Never in a million years would I have expected my little sister to tell me I’m her hero. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.
“Excuse me, may I?” Ren cuts in on our dance and looks at Elle.
Elle chuckles. “Sure, be my guest, bestie. He’s all yours.” She prances off the dance floor towar
d Derek, my best friend. He happens to be trying to snap quick pictures up each girl’s dress with the disposable cameras my mom left at each table for the guests. Mom said they were to capture the wedding. Somehow, I don’t think she and Derek share the same definition.
Elle walks over and smacks Derek on the back of his head before grabbing his hand and leading him onto the dance floor.
Ren turns to me. “Nice shindig.”
I fumble my hands on her back, not wanting them too low or too high. I don’t know where to put them. I do know my palms are getting clammy, again, and I hope she doesn’t notice me wiping them on my pants. Every time I am around her, this happens.
“Yep,” I reply, trying my best to act cool while my insides turn to mush.
“You’re not going to hurt me, Tuck,” she states, arching one brow at me in protest with her hand on her hip.
“I know that.” I spit out.
“Well, here.” Ren takes my hands in hers, wraps them around her waist, and places them behind her back. “Now, relax. I won’t bite, I pinky promise. And you can try to act like this doesn’t hurt, you know.”
“I’m not. I mean, I know.” I not only fumble my hands, but my words as well.
Sighing, I take a serious, soul-searching look at her for the first time. Since day one, her ability to calm me has been no secret, but I’ve never done more than spare her a glance. Until now. Maybe it’s rampant hormones or the yellow sundress that seems to light up her entire face. Maybe it’s not her. Maybe it’s me, and the fact that I am taking the time to see her.
Ren catches me staring at her. “What? Do I have chocolate on my face? I couldn’t help myself. I had to dip a few marshmallows in the fountain of oozing goodness.”
She’s too cute. I try to think of something clever to say, but can’t. Instead, I shake my head and chuckle. Soon, Ren giggles. Before too long, we are laughing so hard, we forget where my clammy hands should be. Relaxing and laughing are two things I don’t often do.
“I bet they’re good,” I say between leftover chuckles.
“Huh? What’s good?”
“Marshmallows dipped in chocolate,” I reply.
“Oooh, yeah, they’re the bomb. I can’t believe you haven’t tried any. Wait! Have you tried any of that chocolaty heaven at all over there? Seriously, the dessert bar rocks, but my favorite is the fountain.”
“No, I haven’t had time to try any,” I say, hesitant to admit the truth. She’s probably going to think I’m a doofus, no doubt.
“I knew it. I knew you’d forget about chocolate. Didn’t I tell you that you need lots of chocolate? Because I remember telling you that it helps.” She challenges.
I remember. How could I not? I mean, the very first day I met her is the one day I will never forget.
“Yep. You did. My bad.” The words roll off my tongue as I fight to hold onto my young masculinity. For the first time ever in her presence, I feel as if I am the melting chocolate. Dude! This is your sister’s best friend!
The song ends, saving my manhood.
Elle and Derek stroll over. Derek slaps me on the back, and Elle shouts over the noise. “Come on, let’s get outta here.”
The four of us make our way outside to the playground at the rear of the reception hall. We spend what feels like hours hanging out, talking, joking, and forgetting what is happening inside.
Ren suggests we head to the creek, over the hill past the playground.
“Nah, I wanna stay in the shade. It’s hot as balls out here,” Derek says, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Elle shoots back, “Yeah, I do, too. Go ahead. I’m gonna stay here with Derek. He’s going to swing with me, aren’t you, Derek?”
He nods, agreeing with her. I think even he knows you can’t argue with Elle.
That’s all it takes. Ren’s entire face lights up. She grabs my hand in hers and runs toward the creek.
“Whew! I love running. Don’t you, Tuck?”
“Sure, yeah. It’s cool, I guess.”
I walk past her, making my way to the grassy bank before the creek’s edge. I stoop down, pick up a rock, and zing it across the water.
“So, you excited to have a new dad?”
I don’t respond. I skip rock after rock across the creek.
“I take that as a no. Are you at least excited to have a new last name?”
I spin around and roar, “I am not taking HIS name!” Mixed emotions cloud my mind and heart. I have not even thought about this possibility until now. Yes, Tom is nice to all three of us. But at the same time, a part of me fears he’ll end up exactly like my dad. Why would I believe otherwise? Taking his name somehow feels wrong to me. What if I take his name and he decides not to be as nice? Or what if, by taking his name, he feels it gives him the right to start hitting Elle and me? Or our mom? Nah, I fear it may give him power over us, or he’ll think so. Maybe.
“Whoa! Okay, okay. Geesh, calm down, sparky,” she responds without hesitation. “Elle is, so I assumed you were, too. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I seriously didn’t mean to upset you, Tuck.”
She hangs her head and turns away from me, starting up the small hill.
“I can’t. That’s all. And you didn’t hurt me, Ren. Sorry I snapped.”
My words bring her back to me, and she wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me. She steps back, pulling me with her. I stumble when my foot hits a rabbit hole, which sends us both tumbling to the ground. I land on top of her, almost crushing her.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” she says, fighting to keep a straight face.
I see her struggling, and within seconds, both of us are laughing.
“I am so sorry,” I tell her through side stitching chuckles.
We become stone-faced, staring at each other. It’s as if time stops. Birds chirp and the sound of the rushing creek surround us.
“Go ahead, kiss me,” she instructs in a hushed, soft voice.
I press my lips to hers, and then pull away. In all the years playing kiss/chase in elementary school, I never wanted to kiss a girl on the lips. Until now. I look at her real fast before scrambling to my feet. My heart beats so hard I feel like it’s coming out of my chest. It’s my first kiss, so I feel a little embarrassed, too.
Ren says, “Well, help me up.” She sits up and reaches her hands out to me.
I haul her to her feet. Her forward motion flings her body into mine, and from instinct, my arms wrap around her. She smiles before she places a kiss on my mouth. It’s innocent, but a much longer kiss. And in a quick, kind of awkward way, our tongues meet.
Within one single second in time, everything changes – again.
“You’re my sister’s best friend.”
“Yeah, and?” she counters.
“And we’re friends, Ren.”
“And?” She appears agitated as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“And? And we should keep it that way. I don’t want to screw up our friendship. I know you don’t either.” The taste of her kiss lingers on my lips, and all I want to do is make out with her as these new hormones go wild inside my body. I remember Kirk telling me how he made out with Lacy Andrews at Stacy Fredrick’s birthday party after they played spin-the-bottle. He told me every single detail, and thinking about it now, I’d like to do all of that with Ren.
Tears form in her eyes, and it breaks me. I can’t take it. I run up the hill toward the playground and spend the rest of the wedding reception avoiding S’renaty James. Whenever I catch her glaring in my direction, I look the other way. I also make sure to avoid the dessert table. I’m not going anywhere near chocolate or her.
*
Neither of us speaks of the kiss again after that day. In fact, we don’t talk much at all, at least not at first.
It’s the most defining moment in my life and I want to remember it.
I will never forget Elle’s words to me later the same night. “Tuck, don’t be afraid to love or be loved. Don’t let your heart be afraid.”
In a way, I guess she’s right though I would never admit it to her.
Fear is a paralyzing captor. It causes me to become afraid of failure, of disappointing those I love, and even fearful of becoming hardened. When fear strangles my heart, I look for reasons to hold on because all I want to do is let go and give into it.
“In time, we hate that which we often fear”
William Shakespeare
Chapter Four
2008
Age 15
Over the past three years, I have seen Ren a lot! If she isn’t here with Elle, then Elle is with her. To this day, they are always together. To say it is awkward is an understatement. However, after a short time, she and I fell right back into our friendship groove, and things have become better between us, less awkward even.
“Hurry up, Tucker! Mom and dad are waiting for us.” Elle calls up the stairs to me.
On a normal day, I am always ready before her. I am used to her hogging the hot water, and eating all of the ice cream. “It’s my time, Tuck,” she’d say. And also how she calls Tom, dad. Heck, I catch myself doing so from time to time and have since around age nine. Sometimes, the sound doesn’t shriek inside my eardrums. Imagine that!
Today, I keep trying to get ready for our beach vacation we take every year with Ren’s family. Since our parents are close, it’s something our families do together, aside from summer picnics and Country Club golf. But it’s hard to pack when Chelse won’t stop texting me. I’ve been dating her for about six weeks now.
Babe: I’ll miss you
Me: Me too
Babe: Text me when you get there?
Me: Will do. Gotta go. Fams waiting. Ttys
Babe: Ly!
I stare at my phone. ‘Ly’ means love you. It’s only been six weeks. Really? I toss the phone on my bed, refusing to reply.
“Be there in a sec!” I yell back to Elle.
Shorts, tanks, and swim trunks line the bottom of my case, and I grab a sweatshirt for cool weather and cram it on top. I zip it up, sling it over my shoulder, and dart out the door.