by Peter Styles
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Back to the Start
Peter Styles
Cover Designed by Duong Covers
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
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Chapter One
“What do you think?”
“I think that I’m ready for a nap.”
“I meant about the lamp. Should it be here or on the other end table?”
Greg forced his eyes open and stared at Jewel. She was clutching a hideous lamp that he recognized from her bedroom. The base of it was a wolf in a maître-d uniform, standing upright like a human. He had hoped, when they moved in together, that she would have left the thing behind. But Jewel loved the thing and Greg wasn’t about to start their roommate situation out by being a jerk.
Besides, he had known Jewel for so long that her penchant for loving items that were better left thrown out was well known to him.
“Other table,” he replied, hoping his best friend wouldn’t know it was because that table was in the corner.
But Jewel didn’t say anything as she placed the lamp down. Greg yawned. The last few days had been so busy he was starting to think that, once he lay down, he was going to fall asleep for decades. Between moving cross country, finding a new apartment close enough to his mom’s house, and having Jewel move in with him, it felt like he had aged rapidly in a small amount of time.
Jewel plopped down next to him on the couch. Both enjoyed the silence.
But Greg broke it first, “Thanks. For everything. You moving in with me is a massive help.”
“It’s not a problem. Your mom will be happy you’re back and close by.”
“If she remembers,” he said, letting out a long sigh.
“Hey,” Jewel went, “Don’t be like that. She won’t forget you. You’re her only son. No matter what is going on with her head, Nicki isn’t just suddenly going to not remember you.”
Greg knew he was being silly. But ever since his mom had gotten sick enough to need a full-time caretaker, he had been terrified she was going to wake up one day and not know who he was. That was one of the major reasons he had moved back to his quiet and dull hometown. To help take care of his mom, yes, but also because he didn’t want Nicki to forget him.
“I know,” he replied, pushing the thoughts away, “I’m just tired.”
“Come on. Let’s head to bed. You’ll feel better tomorrow once you spend the day with your mom,” Jewel said, getting off the couch with a tired groan.
She was probably right, he thought—he hoped. As Jewel went down the hallway to her room, Greg found himself hovering at the doorway to his new bedroom. It was strange how quickly life had changed. He had known his mom’s memory had been failing, but he hadn’t realized just how bad it had gotten until he had come down to visit a month ago.
It was like talking to a different person. His younger brother, Mark, had watched with judging eyes. Mark hadn’t moved out of their hometown and always seemed to resent Greg for leaving. It was clear that hadn’t changed, and Greg realized Mark had been trying to take care of their mother on his own, with no help.
That was when Greg had hired the caretaker and began to make plans to move back.
All that time working to get out of here and now I’m back, he thought as he sat on the edge of his bed. His feelings about returning were mixed. He wanted to be here for his mother, to help her as much as possible, but he had a lot of bad memories tied to his hometown.
In the end, it didn’t matter. His mother was ill, dementia setting in from the years of her epilepsy, which resulted in her smacking her head one too many times against the floor unexpectedly. Greg could remember the years of his mother suffering and the various medications given to her that didn’t seem to do much to help.
He closed his eyes tightly and counted to five. Dwelling on the past wasn’t going to do him any favors right now. He was exhausted and needed to sleep.
Greg would deal with everything tomorrow.
*
“Oh. You’re here early,” Mark said distastefully, at the sight of Greg on the doorstep.
“Good morning to you too,” he replied, stepping inside. “I need your key so I can make a copy later today.”
“Didn’t save your key?” his brother grunted.
“Last time I was here was ten years ago, so no. I don’t have it anymore,” Greg said.
Mark eyed him with a barely concealed dislike. It appeared that absolutely nothing had changed between him and his brother. Mark was still clearly blaming him for the incident that had occurred shortly before Greg had moved.
“Is Mom up?” Greg asked.
“In the living room.”
He pushed past his brother and went down the hallway. Even now, just being back in this house was sending a wave of memories over him. He hadn’t ever thought he would be back here. Greg’s chest tightened with a sudden pang of anxiety, but he tried to ignore it. No use getting worked up right before seeing his mom. He had moved back to help her, not to be a bundle of nerves that she could potentially sense.
Stepping into the living room, he didn’t see his mother at first. Catherine, the caretaker, was there, holding the TV remote in her hands and changing the batteries. She glanced up and smiled.
“Greg! You’re here early,” she said, echoing Mark’s words.
“Everyone seems really surprised by this.”
“Living in the city for so long, I just assumed you must sleep in.” Catherine was still smiling and Greg knew that she didn’t mean it maliciously. “You make your own schedule too, don’t you?”
“Ah, yeah. I do,” he replied, running his fingers through his hair. “Perks of being a commissioned artist.”
One of the only perks, he thought, but didn’t say. He had gotten enough jokes made over the fact he had moved into the city and taken up drawing and sculpting as a full-time job. Last thing he wanted to tell anyone was that it was a lot of work for almost nothing.
“Nicki,” Catherine said, turning around to a chair that had its back facing the room. “Greg is here.”
He couldn’t see his mom from this angle nor hear her reply. Catherine motioned for him to come over and he sat down in the chair across from her. She looked as frail as ever. A magazine was in her lap and her chair gave her a perfect view of the backyard. He didn’t think she could focus too much on the magazine and he wondered if it had been Catherine or Mark who had given it to her.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, reaching over and gently grabbing her hand.
Nicki looked up at him and smiled wanly, “Greg. So nice that you’re here.”
Catherine had left the room and Greg took advantage of the privacy. “I moved back, Mom. Jewel and I are roommates.”
“You moved back?” she asked, looking surprised.
“Yeah. I’ll be here again. Coming around and hanging out and helping you.”
“I hope you didn’t move back because of me. I know how you feel about this place. You were so anxious to leave,” Nicki said, her brow furrowing.
“I know. But it’s okay. I wa
nt to be here. The city will always be waiting.”
Nicki made a non-committal noise that by now Greg knew meant she had lost track of the conversation and didn’t want to let him know. He rubbed his thumb against the top of her hand and tried again.
“Mom? Did you understand what I said?”
“Tell me again, love. What were we talking about?”
Greg explained once more that he had moved back home. This time, however, when he got to the part where he was living with Jewel, recognition flashed across her eyes.
“Dear, have you told her yet?”
“Told her what?” he asked slowly, a trickle of nervousness wiggling down his spine.
“How you feel about her?” Nicki brought her voice to a whisper as Greg looked at her, confused, “Mark told me. He said that’s why you haven’t settled down yet. Because you’re pining for Jewel.”
Greg opened his mouth to protest and then closed it, unsure of how to respond.
His mom took this as a sign she had guessed correctly and kept going, “I know you have been best friends since you were little, but you can’t keep harboring this crush on her and not act on it, Greg. This is your chance to be happy. I’m sure that she will feel the same way.”
He wanted to tell her mother that she was wrong. Completely wrong. He had never had any sort of feelings like that for Jewel.
But after his mom finished speaking, she glanced outside the window as a bird flew by. In that moment, the hazy look returned to her eyes.
“Mom?” he prompted.
She looked back at him. “What were we talking about, dear?”
Greg took a small breath, shoving the sadness that was blooming in his chest away and beginning a new conversation.
*
An hour later, Catherine was helping Nicki to her bed for a nap. The fact that his mother was only sixty and yet seemingly so frail cut deep. He wondered if his father had still been alive how different things would be. His dad had been five years younger than his mother. Perhaps they wouldn’t have needed Catherine at all. But with Nicki’s rapidly decreasing mental state and the way Mark seemed to hold resentment close to his chest for having to take care of her, it was better to have Catherine here.
Greg wandered into the kitchen, searching for Mark. He found him making a pot of coffee, purposely ignoring him when he entered.
“Can I ask you something?” Greg spoke up, slicing through the silence.
“What?” Mark replied, gruffly.
“Why did Mom think I was in love with Jewel?”
The words hung in the air for a few seconds. Mark turned around and crossed his arms. It was strange to be this distant from his brother. Growing up, they had been thick as thieves. Now, it was like staring into a cracked mirror.
“Because I told her that you were.”
When he didn’t say anything else, Greg continued, “Well, why did you do that?”
Mark’s lips pursed, “Because she kept asking about why you hadn’t settled down yet. Before she got this bad, I mean. Last year, she was panicked about not getting grandkids. And since you don’t want to tell her why, I just told her that so she’d stop fretting.”
“So, instead of telling Mom that I was gay, you just told her that I was in love with my best friend,” Greg deadpanned.
“It isn’t my job to tell Mom you’re gay. That’s yours. So don’t pin this on me,” Mark replied, angrily.
“You could have just told her to call me—”
“Oh and what? You’d suddenly come out to her after all this time? Alright, so maybe lying and saying you loved Jewel wasn’t the best cover-up, but you weren’t here, Greg. You left and never looked back. Now, what? You come here, hire a caretaker and move back and think it’s fine? You’re not the hero son.”
“I am not trying to be the hero here, Mark.”
Mark waved his hand, clearly agitated. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever reason you came back, I doubt it was because you really care about Mom. You knew she was getting worse. A few months ago, after that last fall, I told you. I told you that her memory was fading fast and what did you do? Send some money. I hope that it made you sleep better at night.” Mark’s face was contorted with rage.
Greg felt breathless from the onslaught of his brother’s words, as if he had been punched in the stomach. He had thought that perhaps some time apart would have healed the wound between them. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe that it wouldn’t always be there, but he had thought that at some point, it would turn into a scar.
But it was clearly still a festering, open wound for Mark. The coffee machine beeped and Mark turned back around. Greg knew when he had been dismissed. Even so, he hovered for a moment and struggled to find something to say.
Ultimately, he turned around and left his brother behind with the words stuck in his throat.
Chapter Two
“Well, what did you expect? It wasn’t like Mark was going to suddenly welcome you back with open arms,” Jewel remarked, as she rummaged through a drawer.
Greg looked around her old bedroom. They were at her parent’s house, which she had moved back into recently after her engagement to Stephen had fallen through—something Greg wasn’t convinced she was completely over yet.
“I just didn’t think he was going to be that angry, I guess.”
“Why not? You are,” she said, as she pulled out a t-shirt and wrinkled her nose in disgust before tossing it back in the drawer.
“What?” he said, surprised. “I am not.”
Jewel scoffed and glanced over at him, “Are you kidding? It isn’t just Mark harboring anger over the past, Greg. I don’t need to be a shrink to see the issues that are still hanging in between Mark and you.” She hesitated for a moment and then went, “Listen, maybe Mark shouldn’t have lied and said you were in love with me. But you wouldn’t have wanted him to tell your mom you are gay, either.”
He groaned a little. “I hate when you’re right.”
“Now, as much as I would love to go into your fragile psyche and emotional issues with your brother, I am searching for that purple dress of mine that I love. Can you help me find it? I thought I had brought it over but I guess not.” She frowned at the mess she had made on the floor.
Greg sat on the floor and started double checking Jewel’s mess. Organization had never been her strong suit. Growing up next door to Jewel, he often felt like he understood his best friend more than he understood himself. She was impatient and tended to jump into situations without thinking anything through. She wasn’t book smart, per say, only because she got bored if she wasn’t constantly on the move. But Jewel was loyal, funny, and could read people better than Greg could dream of.
She still was terrible at organization, though.
He was going to point this out when the front door slammed from downstairs.
“Are your parents coming home already?” Greg asked, looking at the clock.
“Shouldn’t be. Maybe it’s Ben,” Jewel replied, as she left the room.
Greg tried to keep his face neutral. Ben was Jewel’s younger brother. He was the polar opposite of Jewel—almost constantly grumpy and brooding, still in college because he was working on his Master’s degree, and he had the stunning ability to be worse at holding conversations than Greg was.
Somehow, he had completely forgotten about Ben in all the chaos of coming back home. Hoping Jewel wouldn’t bring him upstairs, he kept searching for the purple dress.
Yet sure enough, he could hear footsteps on the stairs as Jewel and Ben came up to her room. He couldn’t make out what Ben was saying, but he could hear his muffled, deep voice. Then Jewel bounded in.
“Find it yet?” she asked Greg.
“No. Are you sure you didn’t get rid of it? And is it so important that we need it right now?”
That was when Ben stepped into the room. For a second, Greg thought it had to be someone else. It was only the sullen look on his face that let Greg know it was really Ben.
Ben, who had once been taller than everyone his age by a foot, long limbed and awkward, unsure of himself and how to carry himself, looked like a different person now. He was still taller than Greg, but there was a confidence to his posture that hadn’t been there before. He had clearly been working out because, even from here, Greg could see that he was in shape. Ben’s t-shirt was a size too small and made it evident how toned he now was. His hair had grown out, no longer the short black hair he used to try to slick back to try to fit in. Instead, it was longer and messy as if he couldn’t be bothered with it.
He hardly looked like the Ben that Greg remembered. He supposed that he shouldn’t be that surprised. After all, Greg hadn’t seen him since he moved away. Jewel would come to the city to visit, but Greg never came back.
Even so, he was thrown by how grown-up Ben now looked… by how good he looked. Alarmed at this sudden thought, Greg looked down at the dress he was holding.
“Not sure that’s your color,” Ben quipped. “Actually, I’m not sure that is anyone’s color. Including Jewel’s.”
“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes.
“I only came by to get my mail,” Ben remarked. “But you put the purple dress in the box in the back of the closet.”
“What?” Jewel squeaked, practically shoving Greg aside to get to the closet.
Ben scoffed. “You said you didn’t want it anymore because the color washed you out. Or something. I don’t remember.”
“You better not be fucking with me,” she grumbled, lost in the abyss of her closet.
Greg, struggling to find something to say to Ben while ignoring the fact he had suddenly grown hot, went, “You still live on the outskirts of town?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Small place but better than staying here during college. I bartend and go to school.”
“God, please. Your small chat is killing me,” Jewel remarked from inside the closet, heaving a box out onto the floor. “I swear though, if the dress is in here, I’ll forgive you for breaking the mirror on my car.”
Ben scowled. “I replaced that already. Not my fault someone clipped the damned thing.”