Meet The McIntyres - The Complete Series

by Rebecca Barber

  And on that particularly shitty day, fifteen minutes felt like a lifetime.

  I was sitting on the swing, rocking back and forth, kicking the dirt at my feet. When Shane stepped in front of me and blocked the sun, plunging me into the shadows, I lost it. I’d been holding on for so long, I couldn’t do it a minute longer.

  We’d never been an affectionate family, and it never really bothered me. It was what it was and that’s just who we were. But when Shane’s arms tightened like a steel band around me, the small sobs that were making me tremble turned into a full-blown breakdown.

  We must have looked like idiots, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t. Eventually I pulled myself together enough to step back. I needed to tell him. Where I hadn’t been afraid, and I probably should have been, of telling Mum and Dad, after the way they reacted I was petrified Shane too would reject me. Rightly or wrongly, right now I believed he was all I had left. I couldn’t lose him too. I wasn’t ready for that. I don’t know if I ever would be.

  As if he was reading my mind, Shane dug his hands in the pockets of the ugliest khaki pants I’d ever seen and rocked back on his heels. Suddenly, I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t do it. Bending over, I threw up everything that was in my squeamish stomach.

  “Fuck!”

  While I coughed and spluttered and tried to spit the bitter bile taste from my mouth, Shane paced back and forth.

  By the time I was done, my brow was covered in sweat and I was shivering. I was in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. I’d only ever had one before, but this one was worse. Last time I’d just struggled to breathe and ended up passing out while I gasped for air. Today was very different. Everything about it was different.

  “Shane, I’m gay.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for his punch to land. As much as you could prepare yourself to get your ass handed to you, something I’d endured more times over the last eighteen months than I had my entire childhood, you never really got used to it.

  The hit never came.

  Squinting, I cracked open my eyes and risked at look at Shane. He looked normal. Completely calm and at ease.

  “D-d-did you hear me?” I stuttered nervously. Saying it once was hard enough, I didn’t want to have to relieve the experience and say it again.

  “Yeah. You’re gay.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Don’t you want to say something? Punch me? Anything?” Fuck, I was confused.

  “Why would I want to do that? So, what? You’re gay. Nothing to do with me.”

  “Ah, okay.” My world was fucking spinning. Thankfully there was nothing left in my stomach to come up, because if there was, now was the time. I was beyond bewildered. I thought Shane would knock my lights out, Mum would cry, and Dad would be indifferent. Shows how little I knew my family.

  “Wanna tell me why you’re sitting in this shitty park crying?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Not if you don’t wanna.”

  It took a bit, but as quick as the sadness hit me, the anger and frustration took over. Wasn’t it a parent’s job to love their kids unconditionally? Obviously, mine skipped that class. Typical.

  Shane had offered me the perfect out. I didn’t have to say anything. Didn’t have to tell him what was buzzing about inside my head, but the more he didn’t push, the more I wanted to tell him. Needed to tell him.

  “Mum and Dad didn’t take it so well.”

  “And you’re surprised by that?”

  “Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know. I guess I’m just…”

  “Disappointed? Angry? Sad? Pissed off?”

  “All of the above?” I questioned with a shrug of my heavily burdened shoulders. If I thought coming out, telling the truth would make the load easier to carry, I was delusional. Dealing with the consequences was harder than ever.

  “Let me guess, Mum cried and Dad ranted.”

  “How’d you…”

  “It’s who they are, Alex. Believe it or not, this isn’t about you. It’s about them. Give them some time and they’ll come around.” Shane tried to sound reassuring. For someone who spent more time than not bashing his hammer against walls and drinking beer with his Neanderthal mates, he was pretty insightful. Thank fuck he was on my side.

  “And if they don’t?” My voice wavered under the weight of my question. Comprehending that I may have just lost my family over this wasn’t an option. Well, it was, just not one I was ready to consider just yet.

  We stayed in the park until the sun dipped below the horizon and the cool wind kicked up. That was the thing about Melbourne. One minute you could be sweating your balls off and before you had time to wipe your brow, it was pouring rain. The weather here was truly psychotic, but it was home. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  “You ready to head home?” Shane asked, making it sound as though he was coming with me. I don’t know why it surprised me. I should’ve known he’d never let me walk into whatever was waiting behind the front door on my own.

  “No.” I was adamant in that. I wasn’t ready to go back there. I doubted I ever would be. I was fucking petrified.

  “Come on. It won’t be that bad.”

  I let Shane lead me to his car, a beat-up old Corolla which had seen better days. In fact, I was pretty sure the only thing keeping this car on the road these days was the massive amount of duct tape holding it together. The bumper was dinged and barely hanging on. On the passenger side, the back door was red, while the rest of the car was some kind of gun metal grey. And when he turned over the engine, the damn thing took three tries before it coughed and spluttered to life. She wasn’t pretty, but she did the job. And Shane was proud of her. Named the ugly heap of metal Betty. He’d spent years serving hamburgers and scrubbing floors at the local takeaway to pay for her. That meant, to Shane at least, she was priceless.

  With his shitty music blaring, he wound through the streets before pulling up on the road. Since Betty had dumped all her oil on the driveway a few months back, Dad refused to let him park on the drive now.

  “Breathe, Alex. No matter what happens, it’ll be okay.”

  Doing as he suggested, I dragged in large lungfuls of air, hoping the pounding in my head would ease. Just for a minute at least. On unsteady legs, I climbed from the car and shook out my arms before dragging my hands through my hair, tugging on it. I felt the burn in my scalp and paused.

  If I thought two hours ago my life had changed, this was about to turn everything on its head. What’s worse, I had absolutely no way to prepare for whatever was on the other side of that door.

  With Shane barely two steps behind me, we stepped up to the front door. When I went to knock, I realised how stupid it was. This was my home. The one I’d been brought to from the hospital after I was born. The tree in the front yard, the one whose branches danced in the wind, that was the tree I fell out of when I was eight and broke my arm. The driveway was the one I’d learnt to skateboard down. It’s where Dad taught me to ride a bike and do the perfect jump shot. There was no need to knock, this was home.

  Pushing open the door, I was shocked by what I saw. Piled at the bottom of the stairs was a mountain of green garbage bags tied with yellow tape. There had to be at least a dozen bags piled there, all unmarked.

  While I froze, Shane moved.

  “Mum? Dad? What’s with the bags?” he called out into the void above us.

  I could hear them moving around upstairs. They weren’t exactly being quiet. Stomping and grunting with the occasional profanity thrown in for good measure. When I heard a string of curse words slip from my mother’s tongue I knew nothing good was about to happen. That feeling you get when you just know, the clammy hands, nauseous stomach, dizziness—everything hit me like a tsunami.

  While Shane took the stairs two at a time as he went to investigate what was going on, I was propelled forward. I wasn’t sure what made me put one foot in front of the other, but before I was ready, my toe collided wit
h one of the bags.

  Bending down, I undid the yellow tie and looked inside.

  I don’t know what I was expecting.

  I have no idea what I assumed was going to be in there.

  When I saw all of my t-shirts tossed in there though, I knew I wasn’t ready to deal.

  It was like a switch was flicked inside me.

  I thought I knew.

  I thought I was ready.

  I wasn’t.

  I never could be.

  Ripping open the bags, I found one filled with underwear, another with shorts. My whole wardrobe was packed into trash bags and thrown down the stairs like it was infectious waste. I felt the tear roll down my cheek but paid it no attention. Like a sadist, I kept going. Shoes, bathroom items, even my suit I’d worn to my school formal. Everything was here. When I peeled open the last bag and found my sheets and pillow stuffed in there, I lost it. My parents, the ones who were obliged to love me no matter what I did or who I loved, just erased me from their lives.

  Maybe they didn’t think it would be forever.

  I knew it was.

  Upstairs I could hear the arguing. I couldn’t follow the whole conversation. Three people all screaming at each other at the same time. Unfortunately, there were some words I heard so clearly it was as if they were being whispered directly into my ear. Words I could never unhear. Hurtful, hateful words I would never be able to forgive them for.

  Leaving everything where it was, I spun around and stepped back out the front door. If what I’d just heard was what my parents really thought of me, then I wanted nothing from them. Not one damn thing. All I had was the clothes I was wearing, the phone in my pocket, and my keys. Keys to a house I wasn’t welcome in anymore. Digging them out of my pocket, I dropped them on the front step and walked away.

  “So, Ryan? Seems young.” Shane’s drunken observation rocked me out of my painful trip down memory lane.

  I’d like to pretend it wasn’t a trip I took very often, but that would be a lie. Reliving that day happened more often than not. Especially on those days when I was alone and had too much free time on my hands. Probably the reason I’d turned into a workaholic. Anything to keep my hands, and more importantly, my mind busy.

  It hadn’t all been bad, though. Business was booming. I owned my own apartment, and a couple of other rundown properties I’d picked up cheap. Flipping houses had started out as a bit of fun. Buy something that’d been neglected and left to fall apart and find a way to make it beautiful again. All it took was some hard work and time. And I had nothing but both in huge quantities.

  “He is young. And innocent.”

  With a hearty chuckle, Shane added quickly, “I’m sure you can corrupt him soon enough.”

  “Oh, go propose to your girlfriend!” I tossed back at him. That shut him up. At least for a minute.

  I pulled into his driveway, noticing the flaking paint on the gutters. It was like my mind was set to ensure I saw the imperfections these days. Not only could his gutters use a fresh coat of paint, the front door needed staining, especially around the handle where it’d been banged and bashed about, and the bushes in the front garden needed pruning.

  “Looks like you’ve got some shit to do around the house,” I hinted.

  “Why?”

  Was he for real? Could he not see what I did? Besides the cobwebs dangling from the outside lights and the thistles which had grown up in between the clumps of lavender, it was hard not to.

  “Ah, so your house looks lived in?”

  “That, my friend, that right…there’s the issue. I’m never here. Selena…”

  “So, you’re a kept man?”

  “No way,” he growled defensively as he climbed from the car. Compared to his house, his car was in pristine condition. Not even a splattered bug on the windshield. “James has his shit there, so it’s just easier for us to stay there.”

  Sensing I’d pushed him far enough today and still managed to avoid a split lip, I was going calling it a win. “I’m out. Let me know how the big romantic gesture goes!”

  Shane flipped me off as I walked down the drive, digging out my phone and booking myself an Uber. It was nap time for me. No one was getting in the way of that.

  Chapter Five

  Ryan

  I felt restless. I couldn’t stay still. All week I’d been driving Zoe crazy. I’d sit down to watch something on TV and five minutes later, not only did I have my head buried in a magazine paying no attention to the screen in front of me, but with my other hand I was flicking through the channels like I was possessed. Something wasn’t right.

  “Would you sit fucking still for two minutes! You’re making me dizzy.” Zoe was snarky these days. Ever since our visit from Mia and Derek last weekend, something had been off with her. But in true Zoe fashion, she just kept her mouth shut and pushed herself even harder. She was working longer hours and barely sleeping. I knew that one, ’cause while she was up creeping around the house each night, I was lying in my own bed, staring at the ceiling. On Thursday night, probably around three in the morning, she emptied the pantry, scrubbed the shelves, and then repacked it in a completely different order. It took me ten minutes to find the tomato sauce the next day.

  I thought about asking her what was wrong, but changed my mind. I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear her answer. Instead, we pretended nothing was wrong and went along with our lives.

  At least I did until Friday.

  Friday started out the same as every other day. I woke up, downed some coffee and a couple of pieces of fruit, and was on site by seven thirty. It was one of those crappy Melbourne days where everything just felt out of sorts. The sky was dark, blanketed by thick cloud, and in the distance, you could hear the rumble of thunder.

  When the boss arrived, he was in an even worse mood than Mother Nature, who’d decided the threat of rain wasn’t enough, so she’d throw in some howling wind gusts just for good measure. Some of the supplies he’d ordered hadn’t been delivered, and after he finished yelling down the phone for half an hour, he announced they wouldn’t be here for at least another week. That was really going to set us back. Ignoring the drama, we just kept going. Today I was helping Wayne, an easy-going old bloke who’d been hanging plasterboard for longer than I’d been alive. There was nothing I couldn’t learn from him.

  After a couple of hours, we’d finished the main part of the house and moved on to the bedrooms. Wayne was a great guy to stand around a barbeque with and have a beer, but at work he could be a prick. He worked hard and didn’t tolerate mistakes or bullshit. Thankfully, I wasn’t really one who liked to chat on the job, preferring the quiet combined with the low volume of my music in one ear. Only ever one ear. I needed to be able to hear what was going on around me.

  I’d been dragging ass all day. I just wasn’t feeling it and I wasn’t sure why. Despite the snail’s pace I’d been moving at, we were just about to screw in the last sheet. We’d already agreed that as soon as it was in place we were calling it a day. A cold beer was calling my name, and that was one call I was going to answer. With the board up above my head, I dug one hand into the pocket on my belt and grabbed a screw. Shuffling my feet backwards along the plank was my biggest mistake. As soon as my weight shifted, the scaffold gave way and I went down with it.

  “Fuck!” I heard Wayne curse, but it didn’t really register.

  The moment I hit the ground, a radiating pain shot through my arm and into my shoulder. Even with the length of white plasterboard coming down on top of me, I’d still managed to put my arm out in some misguided attempt to brace my fall.

  Biggest mistake.

  Ever.

  Kicking away the now dented and damaged board, I came face to face with a sweaty, frustrated, and concerned mate. “I’m fine,” I grumbled, sitting up and cradling my arm. Despite the burning in my shoulder, I didn’t really think it was that bad. Yeah, it hurt like a motherfucker, but a few painkillers and a couple of beers I’d be right.

&nbs
p; Wayne stuck out his hand to help me up. The moment he tugged on my hand, I let out a painful howl. He let go instantly and I flopped back on my ass, landing on the concrete slab for the second time.

  “Ryan? You right?”

  Was I right? Fuck no. Any moron could see that. As soon as my fingers danced along my shoulder blade I knew I was fucked. My collarbone was broken. I didn’t need a doctor to tell me that. I’d done it twice before. Once when I thought I was awesome and took one of the homemade jumps in the back paddock too fast and ended up going over the handlebars of my motorbike. The other was after being ‘helped’ into the fence as I chased after the football in the backyard. Just another game of touch football that got a little out of hand. I’d never forget the look on Dad’s face when Beau ushered me inside, looking guilty as tears streamed down my face.

  “My sh-shoulder,” I stuttered, finding my feet. I did not want to waste my Friday night in the emergency room. Didn’t look like I was going to get my way, though.

  “Come on. Let’s go get you checked out.”

  “It’s all good. We’ve got to finish this up tonight.”

  “You’re not finishing anything today. We’re going to the hospital.”

  “Fuck.”

  “You said it.”

  I watched as he dropped his tool belt to the ground, not seeming one little bit pissed about being so close to the end but not getting there. He was more concerned with me. Something I wasn’t expecting, and definitely wasn’t prepared for.

  It was after midnight before I stumbled through the door, hopped up on painkillers and more tired than I could ever remember being before. The emergency department of the hospital could very well be the most depressing place in town. Parents fussed over their sick kids like the tiniest sneeze could kill them. Old people grumbled how cold it was in there. To be fair, they didn’t keep it very cosy. Then there were those, like me, who knew exactly what was wrong with them but needed treatment. Treatment you couldn’t get over the counter at the local pharmacy. Somewhere in the third hour I kicked Wayne out. There was nothing he could do and he had a family at home waiting for him. Sitting here with me, drinking disgusting sludge that was passed off as coffee, wasn’t doing anyone any good.