Too Friendly to Date

by Nicole Helm

  * * *

  JACOB SAT AT his desk, staring unseeing at the glossy surface. After a while he opened his clenched fist. The trumpet had dug little grooves into his palm.

  He glanced at the trash can, thought of Leah angrily telling him not to throw it away. Thought of that moment on the porch when he’d thought everything was aligning.

  He dropped it into the bin, where it fell with a satisfying clank. The satisfaction was brief, quickly followed by sadness and pain and, damn it, guilt.

  He was just about to go fish it out when Kyle stepped into his office.

  “Oh, Jacob...I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Who knew my office was Grand Central station when I was gone,” he muttered.

  “I was actually looking for Leah. Or Susan. They seem to have disappeared. Are you...working?”

  “I was told to leave home, so here I am.”

  “I believe you were told to get some sleep.”

  “I’m not in the mood for family crap from you.” Jacob curled his hands into fists. He was tired of people being careful around him. Trying to find some way to switch him off. Didn’t they think if he knew how, he’d do it?

  “Of course.”

  “I really hate it when you use the butler tone.”

  “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Kyle gave a tight smile and turned to leave.

  But the whole exchange reminded him of how Kyle used to be—closed off. How things had changed for him once Grace had come into the picture. “How did you change?” Jacob demanded.

  Kyle turned, eyebrows up. “Come again?”

  “How did you change yourself? You used to be so closed off and cold and Grace came along and you changed and I want to know how. How do you change yourself?” There had to be some...answer he was missing. Some piece to the puzzle so he could fix it.

  Kyle had changed. For Grace. Maybe there was some way he could change for Leah. Love was supposed to conquer all, right?

  Well, except for death.

  Yeah, well, no one was currently dying.

  “I...I’m not sure I have an answer for that.”

  “Find one.” He needed an answer, some hope, something.

  “If this is about Leah, I’m not sure my experience—”

  “Christ, screw off, then.” Jacob pushed away from his desk, not sure what he was going to do. In the end, he just stood there glaring at the little flash of gold in his trash can.

  “Change wasn’t...isn’t easy.” Kyle cleared his throat. “It wasn’t even really a change. It was...being who I was without the shell on top of it. Which was rather...scary. Hard, definitely. Still a bit difficult at times.”

  Kyle blew out a breath, stepping a little bit farther into the room. “With everything that happened, I suppose I learned a few things I hadn’t believed before. I thought I could ignore the parts of myself I didn’t particularly like, but it ended up being impossible. You can’t really be with someone only partially. You can’t hide the bad parts. And either they accept those bad parts or they don’t.”

  That wasn’t the answer Jacob wanted. Because...he wasn’t hiding any bad parts. Leah had seen it, and that was why she was walking away. So, that wasn’t an answer. It was a condemnation.

  “The thing is, you and Leah are different from Grace and me. Different people...different obstacles. I thought... There was a time I thought the things that stood between Grace and me were insurmountable, if you’ll recall. But, obviously, that was not the case, and you had a hand in making me realize that.”

  Kyle did possibly the most un-Kyle-like thing he’d ever done and patted Jacob on the shoulder. “Everyone has obstacles. It’s about being truthful about them and determining if they are something that can be dealt with...or not.”

  “And if not?”

  “I don’t know, Jacob. I suppose you let it go or walk away. Plenty of people do.”

  “I don’t want to do that.”

  “Well, then...your only option is dealing with the obstacles.”

  That was his strong suit in business. Troubleshooting problems. Working through intricate building codes, historical details, clientele. He did it all so easily there because it was easy. Something he could write out on paper and weigh the aesthetics against legalities and practicalities.

  Life had no codes, no rights or wrongs. And when problems arose he...ignored, walked away, exploded, but he didn’t deal. He didn’t think rationally about obstacles, because there was never a right answer or an end result to measure his success. There was only Mom not dying or Grace surviving her ex-boyfriend’s attack all those years ago.

  “For what it’s worth, being as honest as possible, even when it makes you look weak or like a fool... I could be wrong, but it seems to be the only thing that works.”

  Jacob swallowed. Weak. Fool. Yes, he was very afraid of being all of those things. Of not being what someone wanted. Of not helping because someone might think less of him.

  And then losing all of that in the face of his family when times got tough.

  Something wasn’t right about that, and he had a bad feeling that Kyle was dead on the money. The pretending, the mask, the ignoring tactics he’d used most of his life—they weren’t working here because he couldn’t keep any of them in place, and then he lashed out lest his sensitive underbelly show too much.

  Christ, he was a mess.

  He’d told Leah he couldn’t apologize because what came out after would just be falling apart, and he still believed that. But if that falling apart happened more truthfully and less out of fear, maybe she could see past this obstacle.

  Jacob blinked, trying to get ahold of the emotions working through him. But it didn’t work, and maybe that was the point. He bent over and reached into the trash can.

  “Um...are you all right?” Kyle asked, clearly concerned he was rummaging around in the trash.

  Jacob grabbed the trumpet and shoved it in his pocket. His first instinct was to say he was fine, but he wasn’t. So he shook his head. “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

  “Jacob...”

  “I’m heading out. If Grace needs anything, have her call me.”

  It was...insane. The words wrong and failure bounced around in his head, but they felt powerless. In his heart, he knew it was the fear that was a lie.

  And it was time to face it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  LEAH TRUDGED INTO her house, dropping her work bag and then wrinkling her nose at the smell emanating from somewhere inside.

  “Marc?”

  “Hey.”

  Her brother stood in her cramped kitchen, stirring a pot of something that smelled like home. “You’ve cooked every night.”

  He shrugged, which was about the extent of their conversations. A few sentences, a few shrugs. It had become easy, really, even if they weren’t on the best terms. Someone was here, had dinner waiting when she got home, exchanged fake pleasantries. Somehow in the span of a week she’d gotten used to her house being packed to the gills, gotten used to sharing a bed, a room, a shower.

  The sharp pang she couldn’t seem to eradicate poked deeper. Jacob had pissed her off this afternoon and she still missed him. How long was it going to take for that crap to recede?

  Leah settled herself at the table. She couldn’t exactly be cheerful, but she wasn’t going to pout and wallow. “Man, after you and Mom being here, my usual turkey sandwich is going to seem pretty lame.”

  “I’m sure Mom will send you meals like one of those diet programs.”

  “How was your interview?” Anything to change the subject off Mom, which was a subject she wasn’t comfortable with him about. Because while she felt that Mom’s visit had put them on the path to healing, she still knew that between her and Marc, parents were a tricky thing.
/>
  “Well, I...”

  Leah looked up as he handed her a bowl and spoon. “They offered you a job, didn’t they?”

  Marc nodded, his normal stoic reserve completely unreadable as he took the seat opposite her. “I’ll have to take some qualifications, finish up my notice in Minnesota, and then it’d only be on a probationary term the first three months through field training, but I could be starting and moving as early as March.”

  “That’s great.”

  “You actually sound sincere.”

  “I actually am. I think. For now.” Leah chuckled. “I reserve the right to change my opinion, but I think I’m getting used to the idea.”

  “Well, anyway, maybe it’ll be a good place to start fresh for all of us.”

  “I hope so. I think so, actually. I could use some...fresh starts.”

  “You’re really done with the guy?”

  It was the first time Marc brought it up, which had been one of the positives to him staying behind. Company without having to talk about Jacob, since all Kelly and Susan wanted to do was talk, talk, talk the whole relationship to death. Try to find a way they could help work it out. The ones who hadn’t believed it would work out were trying to work it out for her.

  That was friendship, she supposed, and as much as she hated the talking, she loved their concern and their attempts to help.

  Leah shrugged, hoping to come off nonchalant. “It just wasn’t going to work. I was hoping we could be friends, but...” She took a bite of soup she didn’t really taste. “Well, anyway.”

  “You cannot be friends with an ex.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “No way. Why on earth, if you couldn’t be romantically involved, would you go back to friendship?”

  “Because you were friends to begin with. Because the reason it ended is just... No one did anything wrong. There’s just this thing in the way.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean ‘why’? It just is. It’s in the way. The way he’d be when I was sick. I can’t just ignore that.”

  “Why not? You’ll be sick. You’ll hardly know.”

  “I knew Mom and Dad were fighting constantly, thank you very much.” She stirred her soup too aggressively and some dripped over the side. She poked at the lines of red liquid on the edge of her bowl.

  “They—” Marc cleared his throat. “I know, the other day, I made it seem as though everything boiled down to your sickness. I was irritated with my own...stuff. Mom and Dad always fight. After they got back together. After you left, even knowing you were fine. They fight. It’s who they are.”

  Leah frowned, trying to make sense of that. “Well, okay, but me being sick certainly didn’t help.”

  “No.”

  “So I’m not sure what point you’re trying to make.”

  Marc shrugged. “I guess I don’t really have one.”

  They ate their soup in silence, Leah occasionally staring at Marc and trying to figure him out. What he was trying to say. What...

  Ugh, she was so tired of thinking so hard.

  “Look, I know it’s way beyond my place as the brother you barely tolerate, but, I don’t know, the guy seemed to make you happy or whatever. The crappy future seems a lame excuse to end that.”

  “You’re getting a little too comfortable here, buddy.” Which earned her a very rare Marc smile. Which was nice. Really nice. After this afternoon’s altercation with Jacob, she had a feeling her inclusion in some of the less business-related activities at MC might not be that fun anymore. So having some family around that could occasionally take a joke and smile might be nice.

  She got up to put her bowl in the sink and on the way gave him an awkward one-armed hug. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  Before she could rinse out her bowl, a knock sounded on the door. “Ugh, I hope it’s not one of those guys trying to sell me a freaking deck.”

  “You really shouldn’t answer it. Sometimes those guys are scammers. There have been cases where they push the door—”

  “Lalalalala,” Leah said, putting her hands over her ears. “I’m not listening to your scare tactics.”

  “It’s not a scare tactic. It’s something that happens,” Marc replied, following her to the door.

  “Whatever. I do own a gun.”

  “Do you have the appropriate licenses? Where do you keep it? Is—”

  “Sweet Jesus, if this is what having you around is going to be like, I’m taking back what I said about being happy you’re moving here.” She wrenched open the door, ready to give the salesman a piece of her mind.

  But her heart stopped instead. “Jacob.”

  “Hi. I know I’m probably not who you want to see.”

  “I...” She swallowed, because of course she wanted to see him. She just wanted all the circumstances to be different.

  “I’m going to go...read,” Marc said, though Leah barely heard him.

  “I guess you two have made amends.”

  “Something like that.” She fidgeted with the door. “Um, why are you here?”

  “I don’t want to press my luck, but it’s kind of freezing. Could I...?” He gestured inside.

  Leah swallowed and stepped out of the way. When she closed the door behind him, she just leaned against it. Whatever he was here for, looking all penitent...she was in for...something hard.

  “How’s your mom?”

  “You asked me that this afternoon. Not much has changed.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m not here to talk about my mother.”

  Oh, crap.

  “Work?” she asked hopefully.

  The edges of his mouth quirked just a hint up. “No, Leah, I’d like to talk about us. You said we could.”

  “I did?”

  He took a step toward her and she wished she had somewhere to go. Somewhere to run. But she was pressed up against her door as far as she could go, and he was close, looking at her with those intense brown eyes.

  “When you told me you had heart surgery, I could barely breathe. To think I’d worked side by side with you and had no clue that you’d gone through something so huge.”

  “What...what are you talking about?” Where had this come from? What was he doing?

  “The truth. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “But—”

  “When you showed me your scar, it took everything in me not to look, to ask questions, to know everything.”

  She didn’t want to know this. It...changed things. Or did it? Maybe it didn’t change anything at all.

  “Then you told me about the transplant, and...” He took another step toward her, and as much as she wanted to look away, tell him to stop, she couldn’t. She was stuck, and he was close, and what she really wanted to do was wrap her arms around him.

  Not allowed, lady.

  “I knew you didn’t want me to make a big deal out of it, so I tried not to and sometimes I did okay and sometimes I failed. But it was a big deal. It is a big deal. Because it...it’s scary. It scared the hell out of me. And I’m not supposed to be scared. I’m not supposed to be angry. I’m supposed to be supportive and calm, and I tried. I really tried.”

  He took a deep shaky breath. “I lost it after the Martins and then much worse at the hospital because I was scared. Scared that...well, scared of what I didn’t know about your conditions. Then with Mom, scared I’d lose her now, that I wouldn’t have had a chance to...I don’t know, be the perfect son. And you’re right to make a parallel, because I would feel the same about you. I would be scared and afraid I hadn’t been perfect for you and I would probably screw everything up.”

  Leah tried to form words to stop him. Tried to do anything that could...change all this or erase it. She did
n’t want his truth. It made her all...vulnerable.

  “I suck at dealing with bad stuff. I’ll try to get better, and I actually think maybe if I’m not so damn afraid of being afraid, it could work. If I could be honest with not just everyone else, but with myself. I could get better, but I won’t be perfect. I might yell at the wrong person or be rude to a nurse.”

  “It’s not just about that.”

  “Then what’s it about?”

  “I don’t...” She couldn’t think with him standing so close, with him saying this stuff.

  “I was a jackass, but my family still loves me. My father and I had made up by the next morning. Grace has been fussing over me like a mother hen. We love each other and we care, and in that caring comes forgiveness for our mistakes. Like Mom and Dad hiding things and me losing my temper.”

  “But...they’re your family. They...have to forgive you.”

  His expression lost some of that grim determination. “Don’t you want to forgive me?”

  “It’s not about forgiveness. There’s nothing to forgive. This is just the way we are.”

  “I want to tell you I’ll be better. I’ll be perfect and give you everything you want. I want to be able to do that, but I’m not perfect. I’m not...even when I try so hard to be. I wish I could be.”

  “Why are you saying this?”

  “The thing is, you told me I didn’t have to be perfect. You told me I could fall apart. So here I am, failing, falling apart. Because...I love you, and maybe I could love someone else, too, but it wouldn’t be like this. It wouldn’t be me. But more than that, it wouldn’t be you. You see me. You get me. You even call me on my B.S. So I don’t want my shortcomings to be the end. I can’t let it be the end.”

  “Can’t let it?”

  “I’m prepared to beg. Say please. I don’t think being apart does anything except ignore the problem. Did leaving home really solve your problems, or did it only put them off until you were more capable of handling the situation?”

  She couldn’t think straight enough to figure out if he was really making sense or if she was just desperate for him to be. Desperate for him. But he just kept going, his words hacking away all the things she was so sure about.