Nesting Habits

by Charley Descoteaux

  Lee’s uncle’s truck crunched over the gravel at the end of the driveway at about ten fifteen. Phil sat at the kitchen table finishing up a triangle of toast. Lee stood in front of the open—and nearly empty—freezer, the backs of his hands resting on the ice cube trays. Lee pushed the freezer door shut with his elbow and flexed his hands a few times before turning to Phil, his half smile an invitation. Phil tried to smile back, but after the workout he’d given his mouth earlier plus breakfast, he felt a little too swollen and sore to make it convincing. He followed Lee outside, mentally composing a shopping list that included a large bottle of Advil.

  Lee’s uncle looked like a man who’d done a lot of hard work and had a lot of bad luck. His deeply tanned face was heavily lined and his shoulders stooped like it was the end of the day and not midmorning. The side of his truck said The Reddings Plumb in red script that had to have come from Becca’s brush. He hoped the realization that it had been Lenny’s brother who’d committed suicide twenty-one years before would help him to be a little less afraid of the man. Phil barely had a chance to register Lenny’s approach before he found himself in his embrace. Lenny Redding’s arms and chest were unyielding as stone, so even though he let go after only a moment, Phil felt the afterimage of his body for a long time. At the table, he’d been struggling to keep his head up—he felt like he could sleep all day—but after that hug, he was strangely awake.

  “You boys all right?” He looked from one to the other so fast it made Phil dizzy. After a tense moment, he grabbed Lee in a hug that looked painful.

  “We’re okay. Did you bring—”

  “Not so fast.” Lenny released Lee, who immediately took a step closer to Phil. “We’ll get those doors off before I call Bill to tow ’er away, but first I want to know where you stand. What’d the police tell you?”

  Lee shrugged and moved another step toward Phil and took his hand. Lee’s was still cold from the freezer.

  “Not much. Basically to not leave town.” Lee’s nervous chuckles made Phil want to embrace him, but he settled for a gentle squeeze of his hand. “Randy told them what happened. Shawn ran into his house. He was obviously too drunk to be driving.”

  Lenny ran a hand across his face, and his expression inspired Phil to move closer to Lee’s side. Lenny suggested they go in and sit down, and Phil could tell he wasn’t the only one who had a bad feeling—the color drained from Lee’s face, and his grip on Phil’s hand wandered into the neighborhood of bone crushing.

  They all sat at the kitchen table. For a minute, nobody made a sound, and then Lenny sighed. “Forrester caused trouble on his way out here. He hit a car and a minivan. The folks from the car are in the hospital.”

  “But they’ll be okay?” Lee blinked fast.

  “Not sure. He’s not your problem anymore, so put it out of your mind.”

  Lee’s composure slowly crumbled, and when the first tear spilled, Phil stood and embraced him. Lee wrapped both arms around his waist and buried his face against his chest.

  “It’s not your fault, buddy.” Lenny rested a hand on Lee’s head for a moment. “I’ll go see about getting those doors off.”

  Lenny nodded to Phil and then left. Phil squeezed his arms around Lee’s shoulders and rested his cheek on the top of Lee’s head. He didn’t know what to say, so he waited. It wasn’t long before Lee sighed and rubbed Phil’s back.

  “He’s right. It’s not your fault.”

  “But it’s horrible….”

  “Right. It’s horrible he hurt so many people, including you. But it’s not your fault.”

  In a little while, they went outside and helped Lenny remove the doors Becca had painted and put them in the garage, and emptied Lee’s things from the car. It was sad to watch it leave on the back of Lenny’s friend’s flatbed truck. Lenny left a short time after, promising to stop by and let the girls know they were okay. They stood in the driveway and watched him go, Lee’s arm around Phil’s shoulders and Phil’s arm around Lee’s waist.

  Phil

  TWO WEEKS and three days later, they’d been sharing the house for seventeen days and were hosting their first barbecue. It was a combination housewarming and congratulations for Kenny and his fiancée Amber.

  They’d done a lot of work in preparation for the party, and Phil was proud of the results. Proud enough that he thought he could handle having a few people over to celebrate their new living arrangements. They’d only invited about twenty people in all, and Phil had met everyone except Kenny and Amber individually. He thought it would make things easier if he had something to do, so they set up the big fifty-gallon drum barbecue in such a way that Phil could man it with a good view of most of the yard. If it felt too crowded (ha! When it got to feel too crowded), he could always duck into the garage for a few minutes—it was only half full of exercise equipment and Bankers Boxes.

  PHIL REMINDED himself, for the fortieth time, that it was a good day as he rolled hot dogs farther back on the grill with long metal tongs. They’d spent the better part of a day cleaning it—the grill. It collected some gross debris over the six or so years since it had been used but was structurally sound, so they agreed the work was worth it. Jerry liked to have friends over for barbecues a few times every summer, but Phil usually stayed in the basement or had retreated to the trail or another local bird sanctuary for most of the day. This was different, maybe even more intimidating, given how badly he didn’t want to embarrass Lee. At least he had something to do.

  People had started arriving shortly before noon—not all at once, two or three at a time. Becca arrived early, with Kim, and she went right to work staring at the side of the garage that faced the backyard. The weather was perfect—a few soft clouds slowly changed shape against a light blue sky—and everyone brought a mood to match. Even Heidi gave Phil a real smile and hug, along with a kiss on his cheek and a “glad to see you’re feeling better.” She seemed honestly happy with, or maybe even for, him. All traces of jealousy and resentment, gone, just like that, as though they’d never been there. He didn’t have the energy to doubt her sincerity, so he hugged her back and complimented her outfit.

  As soon as Lee’s friend Kenny arrived and the introductions were over, Becca appeared at his elbow and asked for his help. She’d brought her purple tackle box, but also a twenty-gallon bucket she wouldn’t let him look into. Not right away. In fact, she had asked him to please go away and let her make her plans, so he did.

  Before she asked if he wanted to help, she said, “I like your new short hair, Phil.”

  “I like your new long hair,” he answered.

  Then she asked for his help.

  He would’ve done just about anything to get away from the gorgeous dark-haired man who seemed to know everything about Lee, and his fiancée with the green eyes and the pointy chin. Luckily Becca, his de facto sister-in-law, was there to save him.

  Lee and Kenny barely had to say two words before they would break into helpless laughter or fall into finishing each other’s sentences. A joyful Lee was wonderful to see, but he and Kenny together were too large a presence to stand near. Amber didn’t seem to have the same problem, but Phil didn’t have the time to dwell on her. Or Kim, for that matter. She was nice but still made him feel a little like an outsider, cracking jokes he didn’t get. Lee explained some of them—like how everyone joked about Kenny getting lost all the time and being late for everything because he was born after his mother thought she was too old to have more children—but he had a lifetime of catching up to do.

  Becca needed help to carry the ladder from the garage. She wouldn’t be satisfied with Phil doing it for her, so it took at least twice as long as it would’ve for him to do it alone. Once he set it up where she wanted it, he realized he didn’t care. They were at a party. Parties weren’t supposed to include deadlines or agendas of any kind. He tested the ladder for the fourth time, and then she took his hand and pulled gently.

  Becca glanced around quickly and then grinned. “You can lo
ok in here now.”

  Inside the twenty-gallon bucket sat a small can of paint with a dark green lid, another paint can below it, and a few brushes. It looked like she’d prepared for painting a house.

  No kidding, genius.

  “What are you going to paint?”

  She smiled so wide Phil thought she’d laugh, but instead she stepped back and faced the side of the garage.

  “Over here will be a big tree, and sitting in it, two eagles.” She waved her hand in front of the spot where the tree would go and then pointed to two spots a couple of feet to the right. “I thought about hummingbirds—your pictures of the momma making her nest made me want to paint! But that’s not big enough for here. Maybe they can go somewhere else.”

  She turned to him with an expectant look, and he smiled.

  “You hate it. It’s a crappy, stupid idea anyway.” She turned away and bowed her head, bringing her empty hand up to cover it.

  “I didn’t say that. It’s a great idea. Becca—”

  She turned around, laughing, and hugged him. “You’re so easy, Phil. It’s not even right to screw with your head.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Becca held him at arm’s length by the shoulders, her eyes wide. “What?”

  “To help you paint?”

  “Oh. Okay.” She let go and grinned at him. “I need a big tree’s worth of green to start at the bottom and go all the way to the top. I’ll draw the outline and you can paint it. Okay?”

  “Green? Don’t you mean brown for the trunk?”

  “No, I mean green. You’ll see. I’ve known my colors since before kindergarten.”

  She stuck her tongue out at Phil, and they both laughed while she pulled the green paint can from the bucket. A little while later, a dark green tree trunk cut up the garage wall. The dark green over the light blue looked almost a dusky brown. Before it had time to dry Becca painted in the grain with a different brush, and there it was—the trunk and upper limbs of an old cedar tree dusted with moss. It looked like it stood in the shade of another, larger tree, against a background of blue sky. Talk about being blown away.

  “You knew exactly how it would look.”

  “Yep. I see things that aren’t there yet all the time. Like the future.”

  “Are you screwing with my head again?”

  Becca laughed. “Maybe you’re not so easy after all.”

  Phil laughed and without thinking about it too hard, pulled Becca into a quick hug.

  She said, “Thank you very much. Now please go away,” and stood with her fists on her hips until he returned to the barbecue.

  BY THREE in the afternoon, the yard was full of people. Happy, friendly people, but even with the grill in front of him and the fence at his back, Phil felt overexposed, under pressure, and in need of a break. Phil moved the chicken and burgers to the cool side of the grill, covered them with the lid of a roasting pan, and slipped into the cool darkness of the garage. He meant to have a seat on Lee’s workout bench, but halfway across the cement floor, he heard a soft sigh that stopped him. He’d just decided to leave quietly and find another place to decompress when Tina and Jerry came into view. Tina walked Jerry backward, her hands gripping his shoulders. They were kissing and laughing at the same time. Jerry’s ass stopped against Phil’s worktable, and he pulled Tina close, both hands circling her waist. Before Phil could get away, they saw him. They both turned to him, and a short moment later broke into grins.

  “S-sorry. I’ll go,” Phil said, but he didn’t want to and neither, it seemed, did his feet.

  Tina kissed Jerry’s cheek and then gently untangled from his embrace. Phil’s heart took a couple of strange beats when he realized she was coming toward him. She’d given him a long hug when they arrived, and they caught up a little, but somewhere in the back of his mind had been the thought of talking to her alone.

  “Don’t be silly.” She started out smiling, but as she neared him, her look changed to one of concern. “Are you feeling all right, sweetheart?”

  Phil nodded. He wanted to say yes, but couldn’t quite manage it.

  Tina held his face in her palms and looked at him closely. “You look tired. You came inside to sit in the quiet for a moment, didn’t you? We’ll go and leave you to it.”

  Phil didn’t want them—her—to leave, and before he could get the words out, Tina pulled him into the circle of her arms. She felt a lot like Lee, a strong and solid core wrapped in a soft, loving exterior. For a long time she held him, and his anxiety about the party slowly began to fade. Unfortunately, his body was still half-made of uranium—which was an improvement from when his bones and blood had been completely transformed into the heaviest natural element known to man. Still, he couldn’t help being impatient with himself. Shortly after his legs began shaking in earnest, Tina brought him to Lee’s bench and sat beside him. Her arm never left his shoulders.

  She’s holding me together.

  If she kept that up, he wouldn’t be able to hold off the tears that filled his eyes and threatened to spill over.

  “I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself. I worry about you boys out here with nobody to remind you to do that.” She squeezed both arms around him and laughed softly; her laugh shook in a way that made Phil think motherly. “Listen to me…. You’re not boys. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He wanted to tell her she could call him anything she wanted, but then she eased his head against her shoulder. Maybe she already knows. “We… we remind each other.”

  She kissed his hair and then petted it a few times. “Very nice haircut.”

  “Thank you.” Phil had wrapped his arms snugly around her waist. And he wasn’t shaking at all.

  They sat on the bench for a little while longer, and then Jerry embraced them both at once and said he’d go out and check on the grill.

  “We love you, you know. Over the phone is one thing, but—” She held his cheek in her hand and gently turned his face up. “—face-to-face can be quite another.”

  “Yes.” He barely heard his own voice, so he cleared his throat before going on. “I love you too. Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me, sweetheart.”

  “I mean, for letting me stay. With Lee, after…. You didn’t even know me.” It should’ve been hard, but he had no trouble maintaining eye contact.

  “I knew all I needed to.”

  Don’t ask. Just don’t.

  “I was there the day you came out to take pictures in the greenhouse. You may’ve done that for Lee, but your voice didn’t change a bit when you talked to Becca. You didn’t bat an eye, and I know Lee. He didn’t tell you.”

  “No. He said she might ask some strange questions, but that’s all.”

  She smiled and kissed his forehead. “You’re a special guy, Phil. I’m proud to have you in my family.”

  Phil’s breath caught in his chest, honest-to-goodness goose bumps broke out on his arms. He and Tina tightened their arms around each other. After a moment, she eased his head back onto her shoulder, and they sat quietly for a while. Retreating into the garage wouldn’t have been anywhere near as rejuvenating if he’d found it empty.

  “Sorry I interrupted.”

  “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Tina gave Phil a little squeeze, kissed the top of his head, and then laughed softly. He heard joy and something else he tried not to think about. “Sometimes, delaying the inevitable makes everything that much more fun.”

  After another few minutes, they went back outside. Jerry and Randy from across the street were manning the grill—passing out dogs, burgers, and chicken to anyone wandering close enough with a plate.

  Phil looked around the backyard—his backyard, their backyard—and felt a little lighter still. Lee caught his eye from the kitchen doorway and mimed blowing a kiss. Nothing dramatic like kissing his palm and sweeping his arm out to tell everyone in view what he’d just done. More like a private pucker, as though he’d been about to whistle and t
hen changed his mind. Phil returned the gesture, and the real smile that followed.

  PAINTING KEPT Becca busy until it was almost dark. The sky had deepened to a bluish pink by the time she jumped to the ground and stood back to take a look at the side of the garage. Phil stopped scraping the grill and joined her.

  “It looks great.”

  Becca wore a thoughtful frown for another few seconds, then turned to him and grinned. “You know who the model is, I can tell.”

  Phil chuckled. “It looks like Sam the Eagle from The Muppet Show.”

  “That’s because it is. Sort of. Lee always thought Sam the Eagle was funny. I drew him a lot, back when I was a kid. He—Sam—always pointed out when the rest of the Muppets were being weirdos.”

  “Why do they both look like Sam?”

  Becca turned her whole body to face Phil and crossed her arms over her chest. He watched as her expression changed from “you’re screwing with my head” to “you really don’t see it, do you.” She turned back to face the garage and sighed. “Because you and Lee are the same, on the inside.”

  Phil took a moment to think about that. He didn’t see it, not really, but he couldn’t form a cohesive argument to refute her logic either. “Thanks.”

  Footsteps approached them from behind and then a familiar tan, muscular arm wrapped around Phil’s shoulders.

  “Beck, that looks awesome.”

  “Phil painted it too.”

  Phil watched as Lee took in the picture and looked at each of them in turn. “You guys are awesome.”

  Lee kissed their cheeks, squeezed his arms around them so hard it almost hurt, and then released them. Phil and Becca stayed there while Lee went to round everyone up for a proper viewing.

  “Lee’s like a butterfly, you know. But it’s nothing you have to worry about. He just doesn’t stay still very long.”

  Phil shrugged. That, he did have an argument for but not the heart, or maybe not the stomach, to pursue it. Some things you just don’t tell a guy’s sister. He’d probably lose any debate with Becca anyway. “That’s a relief. I thought you were going to tell me he could taste with his feet.”