Forever (This #5)

by J. B. McGee

  Ryan bellows. “So. Let me get this straight. You’re either saying my little brother lets you control him? Or…”

  “Shut up, Ryan,” Bradley says. I had totally forgotten they were even in the car. The tension is so tight in this vehicle it could slash the very tires we’re riding on if it sprung free. “Don’t be an asshole.” The car slows to a stop. “We’re here. Let’s go.”

  The chauffeur opens the door for us to exit. We wait at the back while he opens the trunk and retrieves our coats, gloves, and scarves. People up north would probably laugh. It’s probably only in the forties, but it might as well be below freezing down here in the south. The line is long, but not too bad. It looks worse than it is. I remember from last year how quickly it dissipates. “I hope we get the trolley this year instead of the bus,” I say.

  “Not me. I hope we get the bus,” Bradley chimes in.

  “Why is that, brother-in-law?”

  “Because it makes me feel like a horny boy in high school when we’re on that back row with the lights out.”

  We all laugh.

  Gabby blushes. “I’m sorry. He’s in a rare mood tonight.”

  He pulls her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzles her neck. “This place does things to me.”

  Ryan threads his fingers in mine. “Why do you want the trolley, Sam?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Reminds me of home.”

  Joe exhales, his breath turning to condensation. “Does it also remind you of ghost tours and such?” His eyes roam to Gabby’s and back to mine.

  “I know what I meant. It reminds me of home.”

  “Me too, Sam,” Gabby says. My mind wanders back to that last weekend there. I don’t need vehicles to remind me of that. Those memories are too fresh, too front and center.

  “So, you both hope we get the trolley because you’re sentimental? Why am I not surprised?” Ryan asks.

  Joe’s eyes are fixed on mine. I shift my weight and turn to Ryan. “I don’t care which one we get. It’s freezing. I just want to get there already so we can get hot chocolate.” My body starts to shiver.

  He offers me my bulky wool coat he’s been holding since we arrived. “Here. Bundle up.”

  Joe does the same for Rebecca. Of course, hers is a fitted leather one that only boosts her cleavage. No telling how much that outfit cost.

  A bus pulls into the parking lot, and the line moves quickly. We almost make it to the front, but we have to wait on the next one. “Dang it.” Bradley snaps his finger. “Are there two busses, Ryan?” His nose scrunches. “I can’t remember.”

  Just then, a trolley pulls in. Gabby and I laugh while high fiving each other.

  Bradley and Ryan look at each other and shrug. “Maybe on the way back,” Bradley says.

  There are a few families in front of us with kids and strollers. They climb aboard the trolley and take seats toward the front, and just like teenagers, Bradley holds Gabby’s hand as he leads her to the very back row. Ryan and I follow and sit in the seat across the aisle. Joe is waiting for Rebecca to scoot toward the window seat of the opposite row in front of us. He sits on the bench closest to the aisle, closest to me.

  Ryan intertwines his fingers with mine as the rest of the passengers board. Finally, the doors close and we’re on our way. The lights dim, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Rebecca lean in and kiss Joe. Ryan takes my chin between his fingers, turns my head to face him, and plants a soft kiss on my lips. “Let all your worries go for tonight. Let’s have fun.” He caresses my face.

  “Okay.” I offer a small smile. Does he know my worries only revolve around his brother and the impending Christmas Day festivities with my father? But if I’m honest, Joe is consuming me.

  Not even five minutes later, and we’re stopped at the side entrance to Hopelands Gardens. We watch as people disembark, and when all the strollers and families have exited, we make our way to the front, then down the steps. There’s a line of people waiting to board, and Ryan wraps me in his arms as Bradley and Gabby step down the stairs, hand in hand.

  “Let’s get hot chocolate.” Bradley points to a cream-colored building with green stable doors and shutters.

  Gabby giggles. “Yes! And I need a bathroom.”

  “That makes two of us.” Rebecca follows.

  I stare down at her heels and smirk, trying to contain my laughter. The ground is soft, loose dirt and gravel in this section. Large magnolia trees and live oaks provide a twiggy canopy. Their trunks are dressed in white lights. Two life-sized painted thoroughbreds are in front of the building, which if I remember correctly is a museum.

  “I could use a restroom myself.” Bradley releases Gabby’s hand and goes in the opposite direction.

  Ryan taps my nose. “Do you need to go?”

  I shake my head. “Not right this minute.”

  Joe smirks. “I’m surprised. It’s some kind of unspoken girl rule to go to the bathroom together.”

  “That’s stereotypical.” And it assumes I like the company of the girls in the bathroom. Gabby, yeah. But Rebecca. The jury’s still out, but the pendulum is swinging toward no.

  He shrugs. “Whatever. You drank enough to where I’d think you’d need to go.”

  I stare at the twinkling, navy sky. “Two things. One, can we please quit discussing how much I drank on the way or when I should stop? And two, can we please stop discussing the bathroom. It’s just not…”

  Both brothers are looking at me amused. “It’s just not sexy. If you need to take a leak, then go. No need to announce it or ask me if I need to go.”

  Ryan raises his arms, his palms facing me. “You’re cranky and feisty tonight.”

  “Sorry. Lack of sleep.”

  “No, it’s cute. But in all seriousness, you’re going to get halfway through the park, then decide you need to pee. And you’re going to be shit out of luck.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Besides, there are other bathrooms. Just go already so we don’t spend all night hanging out here.”

  Ryan chuckles. “Didn’t she call you bossy on the way?” He points to Joe, who nods.

  I give Ryan a playful slap on the arm and glare at Joe before walking to the line for the hot chocolate.

  He follows me, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So.”

  “So.” I look straight ahead because I feel my cheeks reddening with each step he takes closer to me.

  “I didn’t know Bradley was going to invite us to Christmas.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “I’m sorry they keep inviting Gabe to stuff. I know how you feel about him.”

  A shiver pierces through my body like I’ve been stabbed by an iceberg. “Me too.”

  “Are you going?”

  I peer into his molten brown eyes. “I don’t feel like I have an option. If I don’t go, I miss out on Christmas with my only family. If I go, I’m going to be uncomfortable the entire time.”

  The line moves, the wind blows, and the condensation leaves my body in heaves and gives away the increased speed of my breaths. The girl at the counter, who appears to be in her teenage years dressed in an adorable green and red chevron infinity scarf, matching hat, and gloves smiles. “You two make an adorable couple.”

  “I—”

  “We’re—”

  “Hot chocolate or cider? And help yourself to fresh baked cookies.”

  I gulp as I grab for a cookie, shoving a large bite into my mouth before realizing I can’t answer her question now.

  “We’ll have two hot chocolates, please.”

  I smile and take another bite of cookie.

  “Here you go,” she says, offering a cup to me and then to Joe. “Y’all enjoy.”

  Shoving the last bit of cookie in my mouth, I put the napkin under the cup, and clear my throat in between blows over its rim. “Are things serious with Rebecca?”

  “What does it matter to you?” He looks past me.

  “I was just surprised. You don�
�t really date. You’re supposed to be more of a playboy than Bradley.”

  He chuckles. “Bradley is clearly a terrible playboy, right?”

  “Are you?”

  “You see what I want you to see. Sound familiar?”

  “You want me to see you’re not a playboy? You want me to see you have a girlfriend? You want me to see you play mind games?”

  He smirks. “Maybe all of the above.” He arches an eyebrow. “Maybe not the last one, or maybe none at all.” He sniffs, and my eyes are drawn to the point of his red nose. It’s perfect. Just like his eyes, his rosy cheeks, the stubble…his lips. “Would any of those make a difference?”

  “Sure is taking them forever to go to the bathroom.”

  “So good at evading questions that require emotional output. Don’t draw the walls of your little dungeon back up. Don’t punt the ball yet. Do you still think your psychological profile—er, assessment of the brothers is correct? That Ryan is the one who wants to settle, and I’m the one who’s”—he does air quotes with his free hand—“dangerous? What was the other word you used?”

  My eyes narrow. Every part of my being wants to tell him it was completely accurate, and that everything is going just how I envisioned it.

  “Or are you struggling with the pangs of jealousy I swear I saw course through your body the moment you saw Rebecca at my side? Has the grass suddenly become a tad bit greener for you?”

  My lips part, but words refuse to form.

  He rolls his eyes. “I really am sorry about Gabe. Enjoy your evening with my brother.”

  Rebecca and Gabby exit the old building laughing, and Joe tilts his head. My eyes search his in an effort to understand what just happened. As if I wasn’t confused before, it’s like my head has been tossed around in a washing machine, put on a needle, and someone tipped it into a never-ending spin.

  I drag in a deep breath, feeling the cold all the way to the base of my lungs. With each step Joe takes away from me, the walls of my fortress crack.

  Let It Snow plays on the speakers as Ryan joins me at my side, a smirk on his face, and rubbing his hands together. “So where do you wanna go first?”

  I point to the table of complimentary refreshments. “You don’t want anything?”

  “Nah, maybe when we get back.”

  “Have you heard Darius Rucker’s version of this song?” I ask, as I mouth the lyrics.

  He takes my hand and tucks it in the crook of his arm. “You know there’s not been much time for listening to anything other than pulses, breath, and bowel sounds.” He leads us out of the congested area and onto one of the lighted paths, and I toss the remainder of my hot chocolate into the trash. “Left or straight?”

  “Left. I love Darius Rucker. He’s a Charleston boy.”

  “Have you ever seen him live?”

  “No, but it’s on my bucket list. Hint, hint.” I giggle. This is easy. When it’s just us, no worries, no cares, no questions about babies or marriage, we work. Ryan knows and understands my schedule, my commitment to work. It’s hard for others to be patient through these early years. My stomach twists at the thought of even for one second doubting this relationship. Then, in the very next breath, the butterflies flutter as I get a glimpse of Joe. I lick my dry lips and swallow.

  “What else is on your bucket list?”

  Rebecca wraps her arms around Joe’s neck and kisses him. Their reflection glistens over the sparkling water of the looking pond where Bradley proposed to Gabby. His hands slide down to rest on her hips. My chest tightens, my throat constricting at the thought of him one day proposing to her. To anyone.

  “You have to think that hard about what you have left to do on your bucket list?”

  I blink my eyes and shrug.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “I don’t want to have this conversation right now or right here.”

  He stops, thus halting me, and pulls me into his arms. He leans his forehead on mine. “Don’t overthink the car conversation. I didn’t say I never wanted kids or marriage. I just said not now.”

  “I know what you said. You’re the one who keeps bringing it up.” I take a step back, release him. “Maybe you’re the one overthinking your responses.”

  “Is seeing Gabby married making you want that for yourself?”

  Is that what this is? I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. Marriage before finishing school was never a part of the plan, but sometimes plans are overrated. I shake my head.

  “Is it the kids?”

  That is a large part of it. I’d be lying to say it isn’t. Joe’s ready for that. He’s ready for all of it. And any doubts I had as to the validity of those statements he made to me were gone the moment I found out he’d been seeing Rebecca. As if that wasn’t enough, he essentially brought her to meet the family.

  Does this have anything at all to even do with the car conversation? Would it matter if Ryan told me right now he’d changed his mind? If he dropped to one knee right here, would I cover my mouth in elation and surprise, nodding in disbelief?

  If Ryan said he wanted to make a baby with me tonight, would that suddenly fix everything that feels so screwed up between us? My eyes drift away…back to the spot where his brother had been kissing another girl. They’re no longer there, and my body becomes heavy. “I don’t think so. The kids thing.” That’s a fair statement.

  How have I managed to get myself into this mess? Better yet. How do I get myself out of it? “I said I didn’t want to discuss anything here tonight. We don’t get much time off. Let’s try not to spend it arguing.”

  His brows scrunch together, the lines of his forehead rippling. “You think this is arguing?”

  “I guess not. But it’s certainly not pleasant conversation. I’m asking again for a change in subject.” I gaze at the glow of the white lights before us. “That seems to be too much to ask, though.”

  “Requesting you open up and share your feelings with me seems like too much for you.”

  I point between the two of us. “And this doesn’t feel much like an argument to you?” I turn around and start walking toward the dollhouse display. It’s my favorite place.

  “Sam. Wait. Where are you going?”

  My pace quickens, needing air between the two of us…space for my brain to process what’s happened over the course of the day. The closer I get to the dollhouse, the more congested the area is. People are everywhere.

  “Sam. Wait up.”

  It’s not like I have much of a choice. There are too many people for the tiny space. We’re going to get separated, and as much as I want distance, that would make things even more awkward. The more I lose my cool, the more questions he’s going to ask. Taking a deep breath, I exhale and squeeze my lids shut, which leads to a snippet of Joe kissing Rebecca to play. That causes me to flick my eyes back open.

  When Ryan’s back at my side, I clear my throat. “Gabby and I didn’t have much experience with other children, but one year, Momma bought us this old dollhouse from a yard sale. She couldn’t afford much else. It was already put together, furnished, but it was still a hand-me-down.”

  He nods.

  “I don’t know about Gabby, but I know I pretended it was a home where the mother and father loved each other. There were lots of babies, and everyone was kind, caring, compassionate. Everyone was loved. There were no alcoholic drunk fathers or beaten sisters. There was no dysfunction.”

  “Everyone has dysfunctions, Sam.”

  “I was a child, Ryan. I know that now, but I didn’t then.” And as much as I want to believe there’s dysfunction in every family, my hope is that one day mine will be the exception. The car conversation creeps back into my thoughts. “When we came here last year, and I learned a father had built this life-sized dollhouse for his children, it became one of my favorite places.”

  “Just because he built it for his kids doesn’t mean they were the perfect family. It just means he had more money to be able to provide for his kids. I
’m sure your mother would have built you one had she had the funds.”

  Does he hear himself? Can he actually hear the words coming out of his mouth? Does he even understand what I’m saying? Am I making no sense? Why does every interaction between us feel like a fight? “Did I say they were free of dysfunction?”

  “I’m just sayin’.”

  “Well, I’m sayin’ it’s one of my favorite places.” He asked about my bucket list, but I’m not sure I feel safe enough to share it with him right now. This place is a part of my fairy tale bucket list. I’m not naïve enough to think I get a fairy tale, but my dreams are. When I’m at this place, I turn into one of those little girls with a daddy who loved her so much, he built her a beautiful garden with looking ponds, a life-sized dollhouse, and even a pet cemetery with headstones for the animals she loved and lost.

  When I look at the looking pond in front of it, I see roses and hear Christina Perri. I recall Bradley dropping to one knee and asking my sister to marry him. Additionally, thanks to being in the wrong place at the wrong time a few minutes ago, I can add seeing Joe kissing some other girl there too, and I wonder if his raspy voice tells her what he told me on the phone about how he wants it all. A wife, babies, even to be a stay-at-home dad. My stomach hardens.

  A finger taps me on the shoulder, and my body jumps. “I’m sorry, Sam.” Ryan’s voice cracks. “My parents are married, there’s no alcoholic father who beats his kids, but there’s enough dysfunction to last a lifetime.” I take him in. Flecks of light dance over his dark hair and his smoldering brown eyes. “I don’t want you to have this false sense of what life’s like inside the iron gates of the garden.”

  “It’s not your place to school me.” I exhale. “I shared something deeply personal with you on multiple occasions today, and both times, you’ve let me down.”

  He kisses my neck. “We’re just going through a rough patch. We’ll be okay. We’ll get through it.”

  But what if I don’t want to get through it? What if it’s not just a little valley? What if we’re already coasting our way through? What will life be like when the honeymoon period is over? Where are the butterflies for Ryan I hadn’t known I was missing until they flock into my stomach in droves when I’m around Joe? It’s not like it’s been a one-time thing with Joe, either. We’ve known each other for a long time. The flutters aren’t fleeting. What if Joe’s right? What if I’m with the wrong person? The wrong brother?