by Julie Cohen
‘What did she tell you about me?’
‘Nothing good. She told me once that you were a Vietnam vet but that you never talked about it, and for a while I thought you’d freaked out or something, like you hear about. But then I grew up and I realised that you just didn’t give a shit.’
‘She still with that church?’
‘I told you: none of your business.’ William shot him a look of pure hatred and stood up, scraping his chair back. ‘I could do with a goddamn shower, and some aspirin.’
‘The bathroom’s upstairs next to the room you were sleeping in. There’s Advil in the medicine cabinet.’
‘All my clothes are in my truck.’
‘You can borrow some of mine. I’m not taking you back to your truck until I know you’re sober.’
‘Who the fuck made you such an asshole?’
He watched his son storm out the room, anger and defensiveness in the line of his shoulders, the stiffness of his neck. His clothes would fit William. Physically, he was the spit of Robbie at that age.
Robbie had no illusions. He knew that he had caused William to be the man he was now. That Robbie’s actions as well as his genes were responsible for this anger and this loss.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said to the empty room, because he couldn’t yet say it to his son.
William was outside smoking a cigarette when Adam came home. Robbie was at the stove, in the middle of cooking bacon. He recalled from his own experience that there was a time in a hangover when bacon transformed from something nauseating to the very thing that was the perfect cure. He didn’t know if this was the right time for William, but there wasn’t much else he could do. He saw the car pull up at the end of the drive and he took the pan off the heat. It was Luca’s mom’s car; Adam had asked for a lift instead of taking the bus, which was slower.
He got out of the car, backpack slung over his shoulder, and waved briefly at Mrs DiConzo before running up the driveway towards the house. Robbie saw the exact moment when he spotted his brother because he changed course and his strides got even faster, puppyish. William threw his cigarette butt on the ground and watched Adam as he almost skidded to a halt in front of him.
Adam was tall for his age, and he wasn’t much shorter than William. He was fair to his brother’s dark, and thinner, with a boy’s build rather than a man’s. Robbie couldn’t hear from inside the house but he saw Adam’s mouth moving, and he saw Adam stick out his hand for his brother to shake.
He didn’t know what William would do. They’d had no more words since the ones they’d exchanged over coffee. He hoped that William wouldn’t offer hostility to his brother, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He knew he couldn’t go out there and mediate. Emily might have been able to say something to ease the introduction, but she wasn’t there. It was between them: his two children.
Don’t break his heart, he told his older son, silently, through the glass.
William took his hand out of the pocket of his borrowed coat and shook Adam’s hand. Adam’s face was wide-eyed and open, full of excitement and wonder. He was talking quickly, gesturing with his hands in the way he’d learned from Emily, and William was watching him. One son who had been protected from every possible care, who’d barely spent any time separated from his parents; and one son who’d been abandoned by his father at age four, moved around God knew where, who fought and drank and walked in loneliness.
How was William going to feel about this person, this happy person, being his brother?
Bella barked at the door to go out and meet Adam. Robbie swore that dogs had an innate sense of time; this one always knew when school was over. He let her out and she ran to Adam, jumping up on him and wagging her tail. Adam greeted her and said something to William, who shrugged. The two of them walked with the dog towards the woods at the side of the house, wading through snow, out of sight of the window. Robbie guessed they were looking for a stick for Bella to chase. Adam and chasing sticks were two of the only things that could keep that dog out in the cold.
He put the bacon in the oven to keep warm.
When they came back in, they both had rosy cheeks and the dog was caked with snow. ‘Sunny side up, or over easy?’ Robbie asked them.
‘I’ll have mine the same as William,’ said Adam cheerfully, brushing snow off Bella.
‘Over easy,’ said William in the manner of someone who’d been trapped into accepting.
‘Wash your hands, they’ll be ten minutes.’ Robbie got the eggs out of the fridge and watched the two of them out of the corner of his eye as they hung up coats, took off boots, washed hands in the kitchen sink.
‘I’ll show you my room after,’ said Adam. ‘I’ve got a load of pictures of Romário, who I was telling you about. Dad, William likes soccer too, isn’t that a coincidence?’
‘I’ve watched a couple of games.’
‘I totally think Brazil is gonna win the World Cup. What do you think, William?’
William shrugged. Adam took out plates and cutlery and started setting the table for three. It had been his job since he was about eight years old. Robbie glanced over and saw William observing this easy domestic routine with the trace of a frown on his face.
‘Where did you live before Maine?’ Adam asked his brother.
‘I was in Charleston for a couple of years. I grew up all over. Oregon, mostly.’
‘Wow, all the way on the other side of the country. What’s Oregon like?’
‘It’s sort of like here. A lot of trees and coastline.’
And nearly as far away as you could get within the continental United States from Florida. Marie had made a real effort to get away. Robbie wondered if Oregon was where William had picked up boatbuilding, but he didn’t ask. It was safer to listen. He flipped the eggs carefully, not breaking the yolks, and after a few seconds slid them on to a plate.
‘I want to travel some day,’ said Adam. ‘Dad travelled all over, didn’t you, Dad? All over the world. And Mom’s from England. But I’ve only ever been to Florida, which was where I was born, and Maine and New Hampshire and Massachusetts and Vermont and New York once. The soccer team might go to France next year on an exchange and if I make Varsity I can go.’
‘I was born in Florida too.’
‘You were?’ Adam grinned as he tackled his bacon and eggs. ‘I don’t remember anything about it at all; we came up here when I was a baby. What was it like?’
‘I don’t remember much of it, except it was hot and there were lizards.’
‘I’d like to see the lizards.’
‘They were fast.’
William used to chase them in the back yard and he could never catch them. As soon as they saw him coming the lizards darted out of sight under rocks, fast as thought. Robbie put toast on the table, poured orange juice and coffee, and sat down with them to eat. He kept his mouth shut and listened to the conversation. Adam kept up a steady stream of comments and questions, which William answered with as few words as he could. The meal got eaten, the coffee got drunk. William looked less grey. Less sullen. Emily would be proud of Adam.
‘I’ll do the dishes,’ he told them both. He wanted to try to call Emily again. William got up from the table and started putting his boots back on.
‘You’re not going, are you?’ said Adam in dismay.
‘I can’t go anywhere. Your fath—I mean, I haven’t been taken to get my truck yet.’
‘We can do that as soon as I’ve finished the dishes, if you want,’ said Robbie.
‘But even when you’ve got your truck, you’re going to come back here, right? I mean you’re staying with us for a little while, aren’t you?’
William looked from Adam to Robbie. Robbie said, ‘The offer’s open.’
‘Please?’
Robbie saw him weighing it up. No job, no money, no home, no friends. Versus a warm hou
se with a person he hated and a kid who clearly hero-worshipped him. Robbie thought that if William had any money for booze, he wouldn’t be thinking so hard about his options.
‘Maybe,’ said William. He put on Robbie’s coat and dug for his cigarettes in the pocket.
Adam followed him outside and frisked around him as he smoked, like a puppy.
Chapter Twelve
She walked through the sliding door at Logan arrivals and saw Robbie immediately. It was an enormous relief. A rush of warmth and happiness. Coming home.
He didn’t wait for her to come around the railing to where people waited; he ran up to her and hugged her, making her drop the handle of her bag to hug him back. She breathed in his familiar scent. He kissed her once, hard on the lips, and then again, more tenderly.
‘I missed you,’ she said, although they’d both said it many times over the phone. ‘I’m so glad to be back.’
‘I’m only half here without you.’ He took her suitcase and they walked, holding hands, through the lot to where he’d parked her car. New England cold was different from English cold: it was dry and crisp and breathtaking, rather than damp and insinuating. They’d had more snow since she’d been gone.
‘Adam didn’t want to come?’
‘He wanted to stay with his brother. I was more comfortable with William having company, to be honest.’
‘You don’t think he’d do anything? Rob the house to get some money?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know him, Emily. It’s like there’s this huge empty space between the boy I used to know and the man he is now. I keep on thinking that if I’d been there for him, he’d have an easier life now.’
‘It’s as much my fault as yours.’
‘He won’t even mention his mother’s name in front of me. I can only imagine what she’s told him.’ He put her suitcase in the boot. ‘I can’t help thinking that most of it would be true.’
She knew this expression on Robbie’s face. It was the expression he always got when they discussed William: hopeless, sad, angry, full of regret. She wondered if he showed that expression to William, and if William could see what it meant.
‘It’s not true,’ she said. ‘And you’ve found him, now. So that’s what counts. More family can only ever be a good thing.’
‘It’s more family for you, too.’ Before they got into the car, he reached across and hugged her again. ‘I’m so sorry about what happened with your dad and Polly.’
‘Me too. But I’m looking forward to meeting William for the first time.’
‘They’ve been inseparable – Adam and William. They’ve spent all weekend together, watching movies and kicking around a ball in the driveway. He won’t say anything to me except for muffled growls, but he talks to Adam. I think they like each other.’
‘It’s what Adam’s always wanted, and what we could never give him.’
‘That part’s good. The rest . . .’ Robbie shrugged sadly.
Darkness fell early, while they were still making their way up Route 1 to home, and when they pulled up in the drive all the lights were on in the house. Before they stepped on to the porch they could hear the music blasting out through the closed doors and windows. Emily exchanged a look with Robbie.
‘Bonding session while the grown-ups are out?’ she suggested.
‘At least I can’t object to the music.’ It was one of Robbie’s own AC/DC albums. The bass was loud enough to rattle the windows. When they opened the door it got exponentially louder.
‘Adam?’ called Emily, but her voice was drowned in the music. The kitchen was empty, though there was a pizza box on the table with a couple of cold slices of pepperoni pizza in it. She went straight through to the living room and turned the stereo down. The room smelled of cigarettes and strongly of alcohol. A red plastic cup sat on the coffee table, next to a saucer filled with cigarette butts; she picked it up and sniffed it.
‘He found some money,’ she said to Robbie, who’d followed her. He winced.
‘He’s passed out upstairs, maybe,’ he said. ‘His truck’s still here.’
‘Where’s Adam, though?’
William was in the guest room at the top of the stairs, sitting on the side of the bed with his boots off and his shirt unbuttoned. His belongings were scattered all over the room, clothes puddled on the floor and draped over the furniture, a paperback book on his pillow. He had a half-burned cigarette between his fingers and another red plastic cup in his hand. When they stood in the doorway, he looked up blearily.
‘Wha’ happened to the music?’ he slurred.
‘Where’s Adam?’ demanded Robbie.
‘I dunno. Inna bathroom?’ He took a drink.
The bathroom door was locked. Robbie knocked, and then pounded when there was no response. ‘Adam?’
‘There were two cups,’ said Emily, her heart racing. ‘William had one and there was one downstairs.’
Robbie put his shoulder to the door. It took three goes to break the lock. The door swung open and Adam was lying on the bathmat. Emily rushed to him, touching his neck, feeling his pulse. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow, his skin clammy. He had been sick on the floor.
‘Call 911,’ she said to Robbie, and immediately checked his airways, put him in the recovery position on his side, and covered him with towels. All on automatic. The fear didn’t kick in until she was holding him, his pale face near her leg, the freckles on it standing out against the stark white.
Chapter Thirteen
Robbie got home from Pen Bay Hospital about half past midnight and was dully surprised to see William’s truck still in the driveway. When he got inside, William was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. The pizza had been cleared up and the house smelled only vaguely of cigarette smoke.
William stood up immediately. ‘How is he?’
Robbie couldn’t look at him. He was too angry. ‘They’re keeping him in for the night and maybe tomorrow too. He’s on a drip.’
‘Is he going to be all right?’
‘No thanks to you. Emily’s spending the night with him. She works there at the hospital; they know her.’
‘I didn’t mean to—’
‘Didn’t mean to what? Get him drunk? Get him in trouble?’ The anger was a relief, after the hours in the hospital. ‘What did you mean to do then?’
‘I thought . . . we were just having a good time.’
‘He’s fourteen. Fourteen. What kind of a good time was that?’
‘I had my first drink when I was about that age.’
‘And you want Adam to turn out just like you, do you? You’ve got it so good?’
William snarled. ‘At least he’s got a dad,’ he said.
‘You’re blaming me because you got him drunk?’
‘He was the one who drank it, not me.’
‘How did he get it? How did you get it? I thought you were broke.’
William looked at the floor.
‘Was it Adam? Did he give you the money from what he had saved? Was it his idea?’ Robbie put his hands to his face. He couldn’t have two sons who were strangers to him. Not this one, sobering up and sullen, and the other, pale and frail in a hospital bed.
‘I bugged him for the money. We drove into town. It was like a party. It was supposed to be a party. We got pizza, and I poured him a couple of drinks. I told him it would be fun.’
‘That kid idolises you! You’re his hero – did you know that?’
‘You’re his father. You should be his hero.’
‘I’m your father too.’ Robbie’s hands were fists; he banged one down on the table. ‘And right now I’m ashamed of you. You’re an adult – you can ruin your own life as much as you want. It’s a waste, but you can do it. But you can’t ruin someone else’s.’
‘You did.’
‘So n
ow you’re going to take it out on my other son, are you?’
William shook his head. ‘That’s not what I was trying to do. I like Adam. He’s a good kid. I was just . . . I didn’t think he’d get sick.’
‘You didn’t think him all the way to the hospital!’
‘He’s not my responsibility.’
‘He loves you. That makes him your responsibility.’
‘I loved you.’
William looked surprised at the words that had just come out of his mouth. He’d been looking at Robbie before, but now he stared at the table again.
‘And I’m trying to help you,’ said Robbie. ‘But you don’t want any of it. And that’s your decision, but don’t drag Adam into whatever hell you’re going through. Into however much you hate yourself.’
‘I don’t hate myself. I hate you.’
‘You don’t know anything about me.’
‘I know you left. I know one day you were there and the next day you weren’t and you never said goodbye.’
‘And you know all the things your mother has said about me since,’ Robbie spat. ‘She’s been fair, I’m sure.’
‘Do you know what we were doing while you were living in this nice house in this nice town? We had a trailer outside Portland, Oregon. Mom worked as a waitress and I let myself in after school every day with a key I wore around my neck. We spent every Sunday all day at church talking about being saved but I never felt saved. I flunked out of school and I only started working at the marina because I couldn’t figure out what else to do and every day I hated it. I hated it, because it was what you used to do. Every single boat I worked on, I pictured you sailing away on it and laughing at me. Christ, I need a drink.’ William got up and went to the kitchen cabinets, opening them up as if he expected to find another bottle there. He opened one, then another, then a third, more and more quickly. ‘I could have forgiven you if you freaked out because of Nam or whatever. But no, all the time you were here with your nice house and your nice doctor wife and your nice soccer-playing son.’