by Caias Ward
‘Anyway,’ Trevor continued after a last boot into the imaginary Hayden on the floor, ‘my cousins’ friends and a few others took him out back and, like, worked him over after they ripped his pants off. Then we handed him back to his mates, like, and said if they called the cops we’d set their cars on fire. Don’t think he’s going to live down two rugby girls taking the piss out of him.’
Trevor paused for a moment. ‘You two look really cute together.’
I laughed, even through the pain of my ribs and the hangover. Caroline smiled and took hold of my hand under the table. I could get used to this. Especially the ‘hey, I’m dating someone’ part. I can, of course, do without the ‘oh God, my ribs are on fire’ part…
Trevor loaded us up with food and juice, which I for one really needed. I still had to talk to my parents later. It wasn’t going to be easy, and the yelling that would probably happen wasn’t going to be good for my head.
But at least the olds were going to listen this time. Wish they’d listened sooner. But that was in the past. They were going to listen to me this time.
CHAPTER 8
Family, friend, friend of family
Blog Entry For: Andrew Simmons
Mood: Pissed Off
July 15, 6:22PM Private
I wasn’t sure how this is going to turn out or what I want to write here. No one else gets to read it, not even Sara, so I can say whatever I want. Learned a lot in the past few days, or maybe I just realised stuff I learned months or years ago. Not going to try to be too deep here, but maybe I’ll look back at it years from now and it will seem deep for a sixteen year old.
The party was great, even with the surprises. I’m not one for surprises, or ambushes or anything like that, but Trevor outdid himself. Caroline and I talked about lots of things, and I’m remembering the bits and pieces about pounding Hayden now that I’m sober. I’m remembering kissing Caroline and a lot more, and I’m remembering just lying in bed with her and talking. I don’t know if we’re ‘dating’ yet, but we’re going to talk some more tomorrow and see what’s what.
I showered at Trevor’s and got cleaned up. When I could pass for sober, he dropped me off about two streets from my house and wished me luck. Then, the walk to my door, about 11 am.
Dad hugged me when I came in, but then he pulled away when he remembered I didn’t like people touching me. I said it was OK and dropped my bag in the living room. He asked me about the bruise on my head. I just told him it was a fight between mates, nothing special. Mum came in and hugged me. I did everything I could not to yell from the pain in my ribs.
We talked. It was a lot of talking – at least from me. Mostly it was me telling them to let me say what I needed to say. Dad kept on wanting to interrupt, but I told him he just had to listen. I know William didn’t like me, based on what he said and did. I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t really love him either. I knew he’d got a suck deal from life, and he took lots of it out on me. I knew that he needed a lot more attention and stuff than I did, needed a lot more help. And I knew that they understood him a lot better than they understood me. I’d had to come second.
But it still didn’t mean that I didn’t want stuff, or attention, or love. Just because I was able to do stuff on my own didn’t mean I didn’t want them to pay attention to what I did. And part of that was down to me too, I know. I just didn’t click with them. I’m not the sort of person to say that I care about people, and I think that makes me seem cold; I make sure the rubbish bins are out and I clean up after myself. I’d left everyone alone when William got sick and had his operations. And I shouldn’t have done that. I should have spoken up more, should have pushed more, because that would have been better for everyone. I shouldn’t have let William take stuff out on me, I should have been louder and angrier and I should have stood up for myself.
I could have handled things better too, I know that. And I made sure that Dad and Mum knew that. But I wanted them to know that I am still here, and that for all their talk about ‘pitching in’ and ‘helping out’, they sometimes forget that. I need to know they want me here. It took a while, but I got all this across to them.
This is when Dad started crying. He was angry and red, and his hands shook. Mum wanted to get up and leave, but I told her we needed to do this now or it wasn’t ever going to get resolved. I said it again, because they needed to hear it: William never really showed me that he cared, despite what they said or thought. William was angry with me for some reason, but I couldn’t help being me, just like he couldn’t help being him.
I just wanted to hear that I was doing the right things – someone telling me, ‘hey, you aren’t screwing up’. Sometimes they’d done that, but I’d had nowhere near the kind of support from them that William had. Just because William had had a tougher mountain to climb didn’t mean that I had had an easy walk of it.
So I just put it all out there and said we should see about all of us finding someone to talk to about this. We could go to support groups for parents who had lost kids, we could talk with friends. We could even just talk about it together from time to time. I’d buried stuff for too long, they’d kept on trying to keep everything and everyone together on the surface, without seeing what it was that was actually pulling us apart…
It kind of dropped off from there and these are just the headlines – the whole conversation went on a bit. But I think that some of it got through. We got an Indian takeaway that night, and we actually sat at a table and ate together. Mum talked about some property deals, Dad talked about projects at work. They asked me how work was for me, and if I had painted anything recently. We didn’t talk about William.
We talked about us.
GraphicAndrew: *wave*
HaveYouSeenMyPants: Hey love
HaveYouSeenMyPants: How was the party?
GraphicAndrew: It was good…
HaveYouSeenMyPants: *plays porno music*
HaveYouSeenMyPants: hehehehe
GraphicAndrew: stop that. :P
HaveYouSeenMyPants: well, I figured you would have hooked up with Emma at least…
GraphicAndrew: nononono…
HaveYouSeenMyPants: :(
GraphicAndrew: Caroline was there
HaveYouSeenMyPants: you mean the blonde girl? The posh one?
GraphicAndrew: yeah
HaveYouSeenMyPants: *turns up porno music*
HaveYouSeenMyPants: ;)
GraphicAndrew: No no no…
GraphicAndrew: sort of…
HaveYouSeenMyPants: oooooooo…
HaveYouSeenMyPants: do tell…
GraphicAndrew: we were in bed. Talking mostly. Some other stuff
HaveYouSeenMyPants: did you get pictures?
GraphicAndrew: no. :P
HaveYouSeenMyPants: damn :)
GraphicAndrew: it’s a good start
HaveYouSeenMyPants: so you gonna see her again?
GraphicAndrew: yeah. Gonna see what happens with us. At least give it a shot
HaveYouSeenMyPants: hey, isn’t she one of Hayden’s friends?
GraphicAndrew: was, I think. I think I convinced her not to care after I beat Hayden up at Trevor’s party
HaveYouSeenMyPants: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GraphicAndrew: don’t remember much, I was drunk. Trevor said I pounded Hayden and threw him down some stairs
HaveYouSeenMyPants: rock!
GraphicAndrew: gonna email you something, just read it and delete it, OK?
HaveYouSeenMyPants: OK
GraphicAndrew: sent
HaveYouSeenMyPants: *waits*
HaveYouSeenMyPants: got it, gimme a sec
HaveYouSeenMyPants: OMG *hugs*
GraphicAndrew: I do the right thing?
HaveYouSeenMyPants: I think you did
GraphicAndrew: I’m surprised I didn’t get thrown out of the house
HaveYouSeenMyPants: I don’t think they want to lose another son
GraphicAndrew: I don’t think they want to lose me. Not j
ust ‘another son’. They actually talked to me about what I was doing. May seem a bit late, but the past is, well… past. Time to be part of the family
HaveYouSeenMyPants: yeah
HaveYouSeenMyPants: I love you, you know that?
GraphicAndrew: yep. Never doubted it
GraphicAndrew: love you too
GraphicAndrew: I’m gonna go and get some sleep. Last night and today were rough
HaveYouSeenMyPants: *hops into bed with you*
GraphicAndrew: hehehehe
HaveYouSeenMyPants: sleep well, dear
A few weeks before the start of term, I got a call from a number I didn’t recognise. Turned out it was Buzz.
‘Namaste, Andrew,’ he said.
‘Hey Buzz,’ I said. ‘I’m not home right now, but if you lost my parents’ number I can give it …’
‘Actually, I needed to talk to you.’ He cut me off as politely as possible.
‘Oh, OK,’ I said. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m going to be visiting in a few weeks, wrapping up the estate account, reading the will, things like that. It’s something we should have done earlier, but with everything being so stressful for your parents, I didn’t think it was a good idea to rush right into it. I need to meet with you beforehand, though.’
‘OK…’ Now I was wondering what was going on.
‘It’s nothing bad,’ Buzz assured me. ‘Just want to see how you are doing.’
‘I’m better. Working through stuff with the family. It’s not easy, you know?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, his New Jersey accent loud and clear. ‘I know. I know I miss William. I know your parents do.’
‘Yeah,’ I agreed.
‘I know you had problems with him, Andrew. And he had problems with you.’
I paused.
‘It’s OK, Andrew. I know you guys didn’t click. Sometimes that happens. But we’ll talk about this more when I see you, OK? I’m going to call your parents and give them my flight info. Do me a favour?’
‘Um, yeah?’
‘Don’t tell your parents about me wanting to meet with you ahead of time, OK?’
‘Sure.’
Buzz hung up, leaving me with a head full of questions. From what I know, Buzz is not much for secrets. They stay in touch, him, Dad and Mum, and for him to hide something from them it has to be something serious. I thought about calling him again to see if he’d just tell me, but thought better of it.
Instead I headed over to Caroline’s to meet her parents. She’d warned them about the make-up and pushed that I was a working artist, so figured that I should go over well. Next week is her meeting my parents. I don’t have to explain anything to my parents, they are just glad that I’m bringing someone home.
It was not turning out to be a bad life, all in all.
CHAPTER 9
Showing, not telling
Buzz walked into a different Simmons family than the one he’d left back in April. We were talking to each other, for one thing. It wasn’t all hugs and sunshine, but at least I wasn’t locking myself in my room all the time, and Dad wasn’t getting in the way of my fist. Mum had dropped back into work, like she always did, and Dad spent half the time speaking to German people on the phone. But when we were depressed, or angry or confused, we talked about it. We’d found a family counsellor to walk us through things.
That didn’t go so well. Dad’s not one to talk to people he doesn’t know, so it was mostly him being quiet for an hour and then going on and on as soon as we walked out of the door. But at least he’s talking about stuff that’s bothering him, and not just Will’s death. It’s like someone’s opened a floodgate to let out things he’s kept bottled up all the time. The olds fight a bit more, but at least they get it out of the way and realise that they still like each other. Dad has also found a group for parents who have lost children, and that’s helped him a lot.
And at least they now understand how I feel, even if they don’t agree with what I’m saying. Will never really showed that he cared much about me, and I’m fine with that. Like I’ve said, some people just don’t get along, and being related to them doesn’t make much of a difference. Will had a rough life, and lots of problems. I wish things had been better, and that he hadn’t resented me so much, and I wish I could have handled the situation better.
But that’s all in the past. Nothing you can do about it, so you should look forward. Which is what we did. I started to research universities, and I worked and got ready for my last year of school. I knew that I’d probably end up staying in England with money being so tight, but I didn’t feel that I needed to flee the country any more anyway. I could stand being with my olds again, and they didn’t always wonder why I wasn’t part of the family.
Buzz wanted a private place to meet me, away from my parents. Trevor had let me use his house for many things, from a private place for Caroline and me, to a mailing address for my contest entries. I had a key, so I just met Buzz there. Buzz wasn’t a drinker but he didn’t say anything about my pouring a pint from the tap.
‘So what’s the big secret, Buzz?’ I sprawled out on the sofa downstairs in the bar room.
Buzz looked at me, exhausted. Exhausted for him, that is. Actually, he only seemed slightly tired for someone straight off a flight of six hours and still jet-lagged. He had stacks of papers in a bag, all different kinds of documents and forms, and spread some of them out on the table.
‘It’s not a secret, Andrew.’ Buzz made some notes on a legal pad. ‘I just thought it best to let you know about what is going to happen, before we sit together with your parents to announce it all formally. I didn’t want to catch you off guard when it all comes out.’
‘Alright,’ I said, ‘so what’s going on?’
‘We read your brother’s will next week. Once we execute the will and it is certified, we can get money into the estate account, pay off the last of the bills, get money back to your parents and disburse the rest of the estate.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘What does this have to do with me?’
‘Come here, Andrew.’
I put my beer down and sat at the table. Buzz slid a document across the table to me, neatly folded in a textured envelope.
‘Last Will and Testament,’ I read from the envelope.
‘Read it,’ he told me.
I took the will out of the envelope and opened it.
“‘I, William Simmons,’” I read aloud, “‘declare this to be my Will, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils I previously made.”’
‘Go on,’ Buzz said.
“‘I direct my executors to pay my enforceable unsecured debts and funeral expenses, the expenses of my last illness, and the expenses of administering my estate. I bequeath all my tangible personal property and all policies and proceeds of insurance covering such property in the following manner: Andrew Simmons, seventy-five per cent; Richard and Margaret Simmons, twenty-five per cent.”’
I put the will down.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘My olds told me just to use the laptop. We’ve already sold off William’s car, though, to pay for the funeral and the medical bills. I mean, what else is there?’
‘They never told you, did they?’
‘Told me what?’ I said.
‘You know how your brother got his nerve damage?’
‘Yeah, from the delivery, when he was born,’ I said. ‘Messed up his motor skills, made it hard for him to do things. Maybe it even caused all the other medical problems later on.’
‘Well, Will ended up with a settlement from the doctor and the hospital. From their insurance if you want to be more accurate. You probably don’t remember much about it, since you were young during all of the legal wrangling. Anyway, Will set up a trust for you.’
‘What?’
‘He wasn’t good at telling people that he cared about them,’ Buzz said. ‘And he knew how you lost out all the time. All the attention, all the money spent on him, all the… well, everything. He had lots o
f problems, some we saw and some he kept hidden. He wasn’t good at dealing with people or letting them know how he felt about them, like I said. And that hurt him.’
I could understand all of that. William wasn’t good with people at all. Grew up without lots of friends, got made fun of all the time because he was so clumsy, because of his weight and… well, lots of stuff. When they got to know him, people usually thought he was a pretty good person. I wish the same could be said of me.
‘Well, yeah, he never really showed me he cared. Can’t help it now. We just didn’t fit together.’
‘He left you a trust fund, Andrew.’ Buzz dug through his papers, pulling out a financial statement. ‘He set it up out of the money he got from the settlement. Outside of university expenses and medical needs, you can’t touch it until you are twenty-five. But he left you this,’ Buzz said as he handed me the paper.
It was a financial statement for a trust fund. From what I could tell, it was established by William when he came of legal age. Right now, it had over £170,000 in it.
I was the sole beneficiary of the trust fund. No one else can legally touch the money. Not my olds. It was all mine.
‘He never knew how to show his true feelings for you, Andrew. He felt that he could never say the words,’ Buzz said, ‘and that you would never listen to him anyway. He was just as frustrated as you were, with himself and with the world. Somehow, I figured out how to talk to him. He was my friend. He wanted to show you how much he cared, and how bad he felt about you losing out on everything just because he hadn’t come out right. So he took what he had, a big chunk of it, and arranged things so you wouldn’t lose out when it mattered.’
That was Will’s money. I’d heard about the settlement, but no one talked about it. I didn’t know how much it had come to. And the olds hadn’t been able to touch this part of it for his medical bills, because he’d set it up for me. That’s why everything had been so tight later on.
Damn.