Runner

by Parker Williams

  “He’s part of your world? I get it. Why do you think I told him he had to go slow? You needed to accept him as someone you were seeing every day so he’d be ingrained in your mind. I remember all the things that happened when we were kids and either Mom or I would bring something new into the house. I watched your reactions and did my best to make things easy on you. I do pay attention, you know.”

  Sneaky shit. Rat bastard full of love for his brother who had been nothing but trouble.

  “I know I don’t say it often enough…. Okay, I haven’t said it for years, but I love you, Clay. Thank you for being my big brother.”

  “But I’m not—”

  “I’m older, but you’re the one who went out of his way to make my life better. So you’re a lot more mature than me. Well, except for that gun comment. That was pretty juvenile.”

  He chuckled, and a weight lifted from my shoulders. Maybe we’d be okay after all. “I’ll see you soon, Matt.”

  He disconnected, and I stared at the phone for a few moments, then slid it back into my pocket.

  “Clay?” came Charlie’s voice.

  I nodded, too choked with emotion to actually speak. The familiar step-thump of his gait had me smiling, and I sighed when his arm wrapped around my waist, happy for the fact he understood my need to have a connection right now.

  “I’m proud of you. I hope you know that.”

  That made one of us. All I saw myself doing was correcting my own lifetime of mistakes.

  “Turn around,” he said, in a tone that told me he understood my feelings.

  I spun and buried my face in his neck. He backed us up to the couch and sat down, holding me against him.

  “I’m here to talk if you need me, you know. You don’t have to, but I wanted to make sure you knew the offer was on the table.”

  Every time Charlie held me, I felt safer than I had in so long. He had this aura about him that told me he cared and would do his best not to hurt me. It dawned on me that I needed that if I was ever going to heal.

  “I asked Clay to come over because I want to talk to him about things. But I need you to know that no matter what else, if I have to choose between him and you, I’m going to take you every time.”

  Charlie sat back. “Hold on now. I need you to listen to me, okay? Don’t say anything, just hear what I’m telling you. You never want to be forced to choose one person over another. It’s not fair, and in the end, you’ll end up regretting it. Clay and I are adults, and we’ll handle our problems like it, I promise. I would never ask, or want, you to feel you needed to split from your family for me.”

  My laugh bordered on hysterical. “I split from them a long time ago.”

  He stroked my cheek, and his gaze bored into me. “True, but that was your own choice. It wasn’t about me. I don’t want you to do this because of me. I only want you to do it if you think there is no other way. Remember, Clay has always been there for you. He came when you called and didn’t hold it against you that you’ve pushed him away. You’re his brother, and he loves you. Let him do that now.”

  Charlie was too good to be real. No one could be this patient and caring. “How are you so perfect?”

  That got a belly laugh out of him. “Oh, I am so not perfect. You know how you are about your stuff? I’m the same way with my writing. I hate it when a story isn’t going like I want. I’ll fuss and fume about it, cuss to myself. Hell, I’ll even yell at the characters if they’re not behaving like they’re supposed to. So not perfect, and I would appreciate it if you don’t put me on a pedestal, because it gives me that much further to fall.”

  Okay, fine. Maybe he wasn’t perfect in every way, but in my eyes, he was as close as any person I’d ever met.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE KNOCK on the door had my nerves jangled. For the last hour, I had told myself I was ready to face Clay, but in truth, I wasn’t. I believed he loved me, and I hoped that extended to him wanting what I thought was best for me.

  “He’s here,” I said, stating the obvious.

  Without comment Charlie stepped over to the hearth and poked at the fire he’d started to ward off the chill that permeated the house.

  I’d been sitting and worrying about how things were going to go. Things had gotten marginally better when Charlie sat next to me, wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and told me he was proud of me. For a few moments before Clay arrived, I felt calm and steady.

  Now? I was so nervous I was shaking.

  “Want me to get it?” Charlie asked.

  I shook my head, took a deep breath, and straightened my spine. I could do this. I would do this.

  As soon as the door opened, a gust of bitterly cold air swirled in the doorway, bringing a light dusting of snow with it. Clay stood on the porch, bundled in his flannel jacket, gray woolen cap, and black snow pants.

  “Please tell me you have coffee,” he begged as he stumbled dramatically through the door. I looked for Charlie, wanting to hold his hand, but saw him coming back from the kitchen.

  “Decaf,” Charlie replied as he handed Clay a cup.

  “Don’t care. It’s hot, and that’s good enough for me.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief that they hadn’t jumped right back to the threats of violence. Maybe it was a good sign.

  “Do you want to sit?” I asked Clay.

  “Sure, that would be nice.” He stepped toward the couch, then stopped to remove his snowy jacket and boots. He grinned at me. “I can be civilized, you know.” Then he hurried over and stretched out in front of the fire. “God, that feels good. I don’t know how you can stand it up here. It’s like thirty degrees colder than in town.”

  I ignored what I thought was a subtle dig, but Charlie didn’t.

  “It’s warmer here than in town because this place has so much heart.”

  Clay held up his hand. “I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m serious. It’s warmer in town, but this place is cozy.”

  “Sorry,” Charlie murmured, taking my hand in his.

  “No, you have absolutely no reason to be sorry. I do, though.” He swallowed, getting a pained expression on his face. “I almost lost my brother because I wasn’t willing to accept he could be happy living the way he was. I’m not going to say I agree with it, but it wasn’t my decision to make. I had no business trying to force him to change who he is.”

  “But, Clay, I—”

  “Please, let me finish.”

  Charlie sat on the opposite end of the couch and pulled me closer. I had the insane desire to be on his lap, with his arms wrapped around me, but the casts wouldn’t come off for another week. Instead I sat on the arm of the couch and gave Clay my undivided attention.

  “I was selfish,” he continued, his gaze locked on mine. “I wanted Matt to be there for Sunday dinners so we could talk about things. I wanted to tell him about the girl I was dating. The changes on Main Street. I wanted us to sit in our pajamas around the Christmas tree with Mom, drinking coffee at four in the morning because I was too excited to sleep. Did you know I have every gift I bought for you still wrapped in a closet at home?” He coughed when he tried to chuckle. “I bought you a Nirvana shirt the year after you moved out. I saw it when I was out on a date and had to get it. Then I realized you wouldn’t see it, and I had no idea what to do to make things right.”

  I could see tears on his cheeks now, and my heart stuttered.

  “Mom told me you know about me being out here when you were gone. I’m sorry, but it was the only way I could connect with you. I swear I wasn’t stalking you…. Well, okay, not much. But goddammit, Matt. I missed you so fucking bad, it tore me up inside. You don’t know what it’s like, knowing your brother is less than an hour away and you can’t just drop by to see him.”

  I stood, wanting to launch myself at him, but Charlie kept his grip on my hand. When I glanced at him, he gave a small shake of his head.

  “Did you ever once think about us? When it was Christmas, did you wonder what we were doi
ng? How we were getting along? Shit, you didn’t even call on the holidays. Mom and I stopped decorating because there didn’t seem to be any sense in it. Our lives stopped when you left. It was like you fucking died,” he shouted. “No, it’s worse than that, because if you were dead, we’d at least be able to mourn you.”

  His eyes went wide, and his cheeks were stained red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Oh, fuck, Matt. I am so very sorry.” All the anguish burst out of him, and he threw himself at me and wrapped me in his arms. I was uncomfortable, but I allowed him to hold me. “We were lost without you,” he whispered in my ear. “We still are.”

  Charlie let go of my hand, and I patted Clay on the back. We stood there, him embracing me, for a few more moments before he stepped back. His eyes were red, and he looked exhausted.

  “You built this perfect world for yourself here but took away the one thing that made ours right. Do you understand that?”

  I nodded. I did understand it, but I’d convinced myself I would never get better, so I stopped trying. What was the sense? Looking at Clay now, how could I not realize what I’d done?

  “You weren’t the only one who was selfish,” I told him. “I thought my life was over and I’d never get it back. I ran away from my problems, instead of trying to face them. I’m sorry for what I did to you and Mom. I know I’ll never be able to make up for the hurt I caused you both.”

  He gave me a sad smile. “And I’m sorry for trying to force you to change. Be who you are, Matt. If you’re happy, then I’ll do my best to be happy for you.” He turned to Charlie. “As for you, I was an asshole. I asked for your help and then didn’t like the results. I didn’t even look to see how happy Matt was. I’ll be honest, I don’t think he’s smiled much since he left. When I look at him now, though? You helped him. At least he’s coming to terms with himself.”

  “I am. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said. A quick breath, a glance at Charlie, and I told him why I’d wanted him to come over. “I’m going to go back to therapy.”

  Clay blinked a few times. “Seriously? Please don’t tease me about this.”

  “No teasing,” I promised. “And I have you to thank for it.”

  He seemed rattled. “Me?”

  “You sent me Charlie. He made me want things, like a life outside of these four walls. Oh, I don’t intend on moving. Charlie’s going to live here with me, but I want my family back. Do you think you can accept him?”

  “Yes!” Clay shouted. Then he ducked his head. “Yes, definitely. Like I said, what happened was my fault, and I’m very sorry about it.”

  Charlie held out his hand, but Clay surprised me when he pulled him into a firm but gentle hug.

  “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,” Clay said, then snorted.

  Much of the tension I was feeling dissipated immediately. While they talked, I went around and touched my treasures again to remind myself that things were good and hopefully would get better from here on out.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  One Year Later

  “SO, MATT, how are things with Charlie?”

  Things were beyond wonderful. A combination of medication, exercise—I was now running with Charlie every day—and coping techniques had allowed me to take my first trip with him. We didn’t go far, but it was one of the most important steps in my life. We packed an overnight bag and checked into a motel on the outskirts of town. That night we went to dinner to celebrate Charlie’s new book contract with my mom, Clay, and Trish, his girlfriend of the last six months. She was a delight, and Clay was lucky to have her in his life, because she took absolutely zero bullshit from him.

  We celebrated as a family for the first time since I’d pretty much run away from my problems. Even though Christmas wasn’t for several months yet, Clay brought everything he’d saved up for me. He took great joy in handing me all of the gifts I’d missed out on. I cried at nearly every one of them, especially the Nirvana shirt, which I clutched to my chest.

  It was hard to believe how much my life had changed. I found myself needing to touch my items less, and I didn’t freak out when they weren’t in my perfect order. Oh, I still had my moments. Like the day Charlie forgot to put the cap back on the toothpaste and it sent me into a tailspin. But where before I would have to run around the house, touching all my things to ground myself, I stood in the bathroom and did the visualization techniques Dr. Rob had taught me. Those were usually enough to stave off the panic.

  “They’re good. No, better than. His new book comes out next week, but he’s bringing me a copy home today!”

  Dr. Rob chuckled. “You like those books, do you?”

  “God, yes. I’ve been waiting on this one for so long. When he told me they’d picked it up, I started badgering him about when I’d be able to read it. His plane is landing at three, so he should be home about six or so.”

  “Then we’ll see what we can do about keeping this appointment short. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your reading.”

  I let my gaze wander over his desk. Dr. Rob had never been a messy man, but his desk wasn’t very tidy. The penholder sat in the middle of his desk, and I simply stared at it. There was a small desire to move it, but today I was able to keep my hands to myself. Of course, he noticed.

  “Do you want to move it?”

  I thought about it for a few moments. “No,” I replied. “It seems fine where it is. Though you might want to consider dusting it.”

  He laughed. “You’ve come a long way, Matt.” He glanced at his watch. “I think that’s enough for today. You have a book to get home to.”

  As I stood, I took a look at Dr. Rob. He’d aged but was still a handsome man. He had a warm manner that drew me in and made me feel comfortable. Again, something I had forgotten in my desire to get away from everyone and everything.

  “Dr. Rob?”

  “Yes, Matt?”

  “Thank you.”

  He tipped his glasses a little, showing off his light blue eyes. “For what?”

  “Not giving up on me, I guess. Clay told me you were asking after me.”

  He folded his hands on the desk. “When you came to me, I believed together we could help make things better for you. When you stopped coming, it niggled at my mind, made me wonder what I could have done differently. But, to tell the truth, you’ve done very well for yourself. And I think together we are going to make even greater strides.”

  My cheeks warmed a little. Dr. Rob walked around the desk and held out his hand. I took it, then pulled him in for a brief hug. He stepped back, seemingly surprised.

  “Merry Christmas, Dr. Rob,” I said, then made my way out of the door and onto the chilly street. The avenue was lined with Christmas decorations. Each store had them up as well. I’d forgotten how much I loved the holiday. After I checked the time, I realized I could make a last-minute decision to stop in to see Mr. Gianetti. He hugged me like a long-lost son. Instead of the flare of panic I usually felt, I sank into the warmth.

  “Matthew!” he said, patting me on the back. “It’s so good to see you. How’s Charlie?”

  “He’s good, thank you. How are you and the missus?”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “She thinks I need to lose weight,” he scoffed as he patted his well-rounded belly. “I told her I can still fit into the pants I wore when I was eighteen.”

  I laughed. “She knew it was a lie, right?”

  He sighed and his lower lip jutted out. “She took away my cheesecake. What kind of wife takes away a man’s cheesecake, Matty?”

  “One who loves you and wants to keep you around,” I answered.

  “Do you have plans for the holiday?” he asked, ignoring my comment.

  “I’m helping Mom bake pies for the shelter,” I answered, a bit of pride shining through.

  “Really? Excellent! I hope you and your guy will stop by if you’re able.”

  We intended on it. Charlie fussed over whether or not I thought I was ready. It would
be the biggest event I’d been to, and he worried it might be too much, too soon. And it might be, but it was a chance I was willing to take. For the first time in so many years, I could see choices stretched out in front of me, just waiting for me to take one.

  After we finished talking, I did a little shopping, picking up some things for dinner. It still amazed me that I was able to do this, and I wondered what my life would have been like if I hadn’t given up on therapy to move out to the woods. But, as Dr. Rob told me, I couldn’t dwell on the past. I had to look to the future Charlie and I were building.

  I caught a cab back to our place, trying to decide if I should renew my license to save on the not-too-cheap fees I was paying to have them come get me and take me back.

  When I got home that night, Charlie wasn’t there yet. He’d taken a day trip to New York to visit with his publisher, who wanted to talk to him about the book tour they were planning on doing. Though we hadn’t discussed it, I wanted to attend with him, for moral support if nothing else.

  I texted him to let him know I was home. He immediately replied, saying he would be home within the hour, and he had my copy of the book with him. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. He kept saying this book was going to be a game changer, and I would be the first person, outside of his publishing company, who would get to see what it was.

  I made beef goulash for dinner, something rich and hearty to combat the pervasive chill that seemed to have settled on our land. As I glanced out the window, I saw the approaching lights, and my heart began to beat faster. Charlie got out of his truck and strode toward the house, my book in his hand. I rushed for the door, threw it open, and reached out.

  “Did you miss—”

  I snatched my copy of Comes a Foul Wind from his grip. “Dinner is on the stove. Help yourself,” I murmured as I rushed for the couch.

  He chuckled. As he passed by where I sat, he bent over and kissed my head. “Missed you too, babe.”

  The story gripped me from the first page. Tremaine could best be described as an antihero, because he did a lot of things no good person would do. When I’d tried to explain my fascination with the world to Clay, he kept telling me how Donald would probably be arrested for some of the stunts he pulled. Of course, he had to get a copy of the book to find out what I was talking about, and now he was hooked too. He did say he skipped the sex scenes, though.