by Alyse, Jade
AND SHE WANTED TO BELIEVE IT. Within weeks, their entire house had been put away into boxes: pictures, memories and such. They’d rented a house in Kenton, near North Portland Harbor, with Mt. Hood as an ethereally white peak in the backdrop.
Wherever the hell that was.
Brandon was beside himself with excitement; but what did he know of roots? Hell, he hadn’t been home to New York in any steady sense, since he left there just before traveling down to Georgia to enjoy an all-paid soccer scholarship. But somewhere along the line, that fell through, pissing his parents off immensely. But did he come back home? No. He greatly enjoyed chasing after bottle-blond southern belles, drinking ice cold beer, attending football games, losing every sense of his identity in the process. She could only roll her eyes at the thought of it all.
The end was near. She could feel it keenly. Might as well drop to her knees, throw her head back and offer her opened mouth for the outpour.
IT WAS BETTER TO KEEP QUIET ABOUT THIS SORT OF THING. Nothing would really change what was occurring. And she had to be better about dealing with it.
She needed to be better for him.
Brandon was deadly quiet the entire cab ride to the airport. He sort of stared out the window, as if attempting to take a mental picture of it all. And she watched him, in an undetected way, behind the careful shielding of her brown aviator shades.
If he caught her, he would have questioned her, been more concerned with her thoughts than his own. And he needed this time to think; he needed this time inside his own head.
She instinctively placed her hand on this thigh. He looked down, grinned a little and covered her hand with his own. He then looked back out the window, released a belabored breath and murmured, “I know, baby, I know…”
And that was that.
Within a couple of hours they were boarding a plane to Portland. When he reached for her hand then, he refused to let go of it, as though some semblance of his resolve lied inside of her.
But she was trembling, like a helpless small animal, left on its own to die. What sort of comfort could she give him?
They had not exchanged more than a few words the entire morning, and they couldn’t even make love the night before. Exhausted minds made way for wary, languid bodies.
“I love you, Brandon David Greene,” she wanted to say. “Let’s make the most of this…let’s stand by each other no matter what…”
But she remained quiet. Instead, as the plane slowly taxied on the tarmac, she leaned over to him and pressed her brown lips into his jaw, savoring the taste of his skin, milking the small bout of intimacy for all it was worth. Slightly startled by the gesture, he accosted her face and brought her lips to his, kissing her gently. When she felt the warm, buzzing connection between her thighs, she knew then that they would be okay.
The plane took flight, she closed her eyes, and said goodbye.
WHEN THEY LANDED AGAIN, Brandon had to jostle her awake.
“Tal,” he murmured, nuzzling her cheek with the tip of his nose. “Wake, baby…we’re here…”
Yes, they were. She was still securely buckled in, the pilot was muttering something overhead, but she felt different. They felt different.
She looked at her husband. He smiled.
“You sure slept a long time,” he observed, reaching down below for her carryon bag beneath her seat.
“I guess I was tired…”
“Glad you got your rest,” he told her. “We still have to sign the lease, pick up our cars, and call the movers who are shipping our stuff…”
“Can’t it wait?” she asked. “I don’t want it to be real yet…”
“I start at the new firm in a couple of days, baby…we need to check into reality a little sooner than I’d like…”
Right. A moment of clarity struck Natalie with a fierce coldness, that caused her to dart her eyes in her husband’s direction. How could she forget that dinner with her mother and her sisters and him, where he ever so gallantly informed her of his new job and their move at the end of the month?
Did she really have a choice?
Yes, the money was better. Yes, he was creative and good at what he did. But why hadn’t he chosen to discuss it with her first? Why did he automatically decide that Portland was the better move for them?
Where exactly did her opinion fit in?
They shuffled down the aisle of the plane, and he stood behind her cautiously, carrying both of their bags.
“Problem, Tal?”
Damn it, he knew her far too well.
But she figured with the amount of history they shared between them, the use for secrets seemed pointless nowadays.
“No,” she answered curtly, nearly bumping into the older man ahead of her.
“You’re lying…”
“Absolutely not.”
“Very well,” he said. “Remember that it’s just us two out here…and I happen to be a very good listener.”
“I never forgot that,” she murmured. “Trust me.”
IN LESS THAN AN HOUR, they were in another cab, and the air was chilly. She instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, and gazed out the window.
Green…that’s all she could see really. An amalgamation of greens, and hazy summits off in the distance, and the smell of pine and old water. Murals covered exposed brick, the people looked differently.
She felt different again – a Georgia peach with honey brown skin and a snarky southern attitude, culturally obscured and displaced.
She released a heavy sigh and Brandon gazed in her direction. She milked his gazed for all it was worth, as some earthy acoustic music played from the cabbie’s radio.
“I love you,” he mouthed to her.
She smiled.
“For doing this,” he continued audibly.
What was it other than love that drove her to this? What was she if she wasn’t with Brandon? In the most unspoken terms, he completed her far more than any other person before him…or after him either.
But she steered away from thinking it, letting it absorb into her brain.
She couldn’t stand a life without him – it wouldn’t make sense.
She picked up his hand, laced his fingers around hers, and kissed each of his knuckles.
“Silly boy,” she murmured against his skin. “I go where you go…”
She then heard him release a heavy breath of relief.
She kept herself from admitting that up until that point, she’d had habitual dreams about leaving him in the middle of the night and starting over. But when she left him and quietly sauntered out of the house, she tumbled into a gray abyss, skin covered in a murky overcast of sorts, as if the mere audacity of her escape was ludicrous.
She’d awaken in a cold sweat, tearing at the collar of her tank top, as though she was desperately attempting to find her own heartbeat.
That was dramatic, even for her. Their silly cat-and-mouse, back and forth bullshit never really amounted to much. She loved the fact that the gambit normally ended with her splayed helplessly on her back and him well adjusted to the space between her thighs. He’d look down her, all earnest and shit, writhing beneath him, pretending as though she wasn’t completely enamored with the feel of his weight pressing down on her body.
She sighed at the thought, and reached for his hand again, the moment that they stepped out of the cab in front of the leasing office in Northwest Portland. She gazed upward – the sky had a blue haze, the light of the sun, fighting its way through thick, pallid low-hanging clouds.
Her husband sighed heavily and a smile appeared at the corner of his big mouth. He was the adventurous one – she didn’t worry about him. To Brandon, this was a step toward something better, a new life he’d created for her and the baby. Their baby. An unknown blurb in the center of her, that represented all that they were; their moments in time, their heartache, their fate, their love. He was the true visionary – he could see how their life would be together.
She, he and th
eir little one.
Brandon pulled her close to him, and pressed his lips into her hair.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m okay, baby…”
He chuckled a little bit and tugged him behind her toward the door.
There was a youngish redheaded woman who sat at a small desk by the window, who looked up the moment that they stepped in. The office was relatively small, and there really didn’t seem to be a need for a secretary, but she seemed purposeful despite this.
“Hello,” she answered with a smile in her eyes. “You must be the Greenes. We were expecting you a little later, with the bad weather coming down from Canada. How are you? Tired, I suppose.”
Brandon and Natalie looked at each other fleetingly before he turned to her and extended his left hand.
“Please, call me Brandon,” he replied cordially. “And this is my wife, Natalie…”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she said. “I’m Addison Shepherd. I handle all of Mr. Neeson’s paperwork for new tenants. Pardon me for being forward, but you’re a gorgeous couple.”
“Thank you,” Natalie replied. “He’s good-looking for the both of us…”
Brandon nudged her with embarrassment. “We’re ready to get started whenever you are. I know my wife is anxious to see the house. She was a little scared of the paintjob you showed us in the pictures online…”
She shyly murmured “Brandy”, and he wrapped his arm around her instinctively.
“Not to worry, Mrs. Greene,” Addison said, taking a seat at her desk again. “I personally looked at it myself. The shades of green and pale blue look amazing with the refinished hardwood floors. And at a great bargain. Please, have a seat. I have the lease ready for you.”
This is where Brandon shined. They sat down together, and she reflexively placed her hand on his upper thigh, squeezing gently for support. Contracts or other binding documents were no match for his intrinsic eye. They’d already spent a number of hours pouring over houses and rental rates, assured in the idea that they both knew what they wanted and what they expected.
They most certainly didn’t want a house with a huge yard. There was no need. And with a new baby on the way, Natalie wanted him in the house more than she wanted him outside, making sure the lawn was tidy every weekend. An a fancy John Deere lawnmower was an unnecessary expense, and her husband admittedly felt older just at the idea of owning something like that.
“Yes, I’m going to be a father,” he’d said. “But I don’t want to be my father…”
Understood.
They also didn’t want too many stairs in the house – blame Natalie’s paranoia. As clumsy as she was, she couldn’t imagine falling down the stairs and putting her baby at risk – whomever he or she was growing inside of her.
She also didn’t want to live too close to the city. Sure Brandon’s commute would be a little longer, but with all the smog and other miscellaneous pollution problems the west coast dealt with year-round, she didn’t want to contract some rare airborne abnormality that she couldn’t shake and could consequently pass onto the baby.
But she was a fucking med school dropout, what did she know?
“So, as I understand it, Mr. Greene,” Addison continued. “You want to end your lease in two years?”
“That’s correct,” Brandon replied, glancing at Natalie momentarily. She smiled reassuringly.
“My wife and I, depending on the situation at that time,” he continued. “Want to explore the option of purchasing a house in the area…should we decide to stay here…”
“Excellent! Where are you two originally from?”
“I’m from upstate New York and she’s from Georgia…”
“Yes,” Natalie smiled. “We are the complete cross-cultural experience…”
Addison giggled, then glanced at her husband. She noticed something, but decided not to remark on it.
“Portland is a very welcoming community and your neighborhood is quite progressive,” Addison said, fumbling through a small stack of papers in front of her. “I hope that you decide to make Oregon your staple.”
She glanced at her husband again.
Brandon grinned. “We’ll definitely consider it, Ms. Shepherd.”
“Addison, please,” she replied. “Now, I know that we discussed it over email, but I just wanted to make sure now that I’ve met you. Brandon you will be starting at Kemp & Beal next week, isn’t that correct?”
Brandon nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Great. And did you fax over a copy of your offer letter?”
“I forgot, my apologies. I’ll do that as soon as we get everything set up in the house.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Greene,” Addison assured him. “Take your time. Art Director is an exciting position. Nervous?”
“Not really,” he answered confidently. “I’ve always been a sucker for a good challenge.”
He looked down at Natalie and winked at her. She blushed.
“I have no doubt in my mind that you will be successful,” she appraised. “And Natalie you’ll be…?”
“My wife will be working on making the house our home,” he interjected looking down at her.
She wasn’t sure how to feel – but she couldn’t ignore the subtle, initial sting. She shuffled in the wooden seat beneath her, and pursed her lips, feigning a small smile for the sake of her small audience.
“Very well,” she replied resolutely. “You’re almost all set. As soon as you sign on a couple of pages, we’ll be good to go. I’ll hand you your keys and I’ll drive you over to the house myself if you like…”
“That’s very nice of you, Addison,” he answered. “We’d very much appreciate it.”
SHE DIDN’T THINK TO BRING IT UP UNTIL SHE WERE BRANDON WERE ALONG THAT NIGHT, AND RELATIVELY SETTLED. It was the first time in a long while, where she felt her irritation brimming on the edge, bursting at the seams, hardly contained
They were sitting across from each other, eating pizza, and he glanced up at her, eyebrows furrowed. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”
She’d been ogling at him relentlessly for several minutes, unblinkingly acute.
“Natalie,” he pressed. “Answer me.”
She cleared her throat. “So...you said something to Addison today that I thought interesting...”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I don’t know,” she sang. “Something about how you don’t want me to work?”
His eyes flickered. “Oh...”
“Yea. Care to elaborate on that?”
“Of course.” He dropped his napkin on his empty plate. “You’re not working.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you don’t have to.”
“Don’t put it on me, Brandon,” she said, rising to her feet. “Be a man and tell me it’s because you don’t want me to.”
“Fine. I don’t want you to.”
“And why not?” She’d raised her voice. She didn’t give a fuck.
“Because you’re my wife. And there’s work to be done here.”
“Are you hearing what you’re saying right now?”
“Yes, I’m pretty conscious of it, thank you.”
“I can’t believe you, Brandon Greene.”
“What? I thought that this would be something that you’d want to do. You’re pregnant, Natalie. Why start a new job if you’re only going to have to leave in seven months? You’ve done so much for everyone else. Allow me to do something for you, for once.”
“Oh, so you just made that decision for me, huh? Without consulting me? How fair is that, Brandon?”
He stood up, too, mimicking her stiffened stance. “I’m doing what I feel is necessary for us, Tallie. For our sanity.”
She chuckled emptily. “No, you’re not. You’re doing this for you. To make you feel better. This was never about me.”
She had every intention of walking out of the room, away from him. But, he followed her, yanking on her arm to tu
rn her around to face him. “Don’t do that,” he muttered.
“What? Are you telling me that I don’t have control over where I go in this house anymore? Is that what you’re saying?”
“You can take whatever you want from what I’m saying, but it stands.”
Natalie looked toward the ground, hands on her hips defensively. “Where is it?”
He looked confused. “Where is what?”
“Your foot. I haven’t seen you put it down yet.”
“Oh, it’s definitely down, smart ass. Are we through with this conversation?”
“Yea, I guess we are.” She started for the stairs. “Our bedroom’s going to be a little crowded tonight. You better find somewhere else to stay.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. So, all delusions of you christening that bed in our new house should just go away now. Goodnight, Brandon Greene.”
SHE WALKED INTO THEIR BEDROOM SLOWLY. Their new sleigh bed was there. They’d picked it out together. At a reasonable price, no less. It reminded her of how compromising they could be, if the right environment called for it.
But not right now. They were on two different pages.
And where the hell did it come from?
She could’ve cried. She’d blame her pregnancy.
She could’ve stomped a little; beat the shit out of him.
But she just locked the bedroom door and crawled into bed.
Too much was changing all at once. She’d take it in with silence.
THE NEXT MORNING, BRANDON SAID NOTHING OF THEIR FIGHT. He didn’t even move in to hug or kiss her.
That’s how she knew he was serious.
MATEO
UNDER A PILE OF BRANDON’S BUSINESS SUITS, she found a small stack of her med school books a few weeks later. They sat there, dust collecting and tattered, as though desperate to be discovered, luring her eyes in with no remorse. She could’ve left them there on the floor in the guest bedroom. It would have been a simple solution to a recent past she continued to ignore. But then a bit of organic sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating a couple of words on the covers, reigniting her shelved belief of “divine intervention”. For a moment she though that Brandon had left them there for her to find intentionally. He was thoughtful that way. He knew that she’d grow tired of seeing his pile of unused clothes sitting there, and that she’d eventually want to pick them up. After all, her own boredom got to her sometimes, enough so that, by lunchtime, she’d cleaned up more than she needed to.