by TJ Klune
“But—”
“Bear!” he barks. “I said no talking!” I go to sit back down, but he grabs me by the arm, and since he outweighs me by a good thirty pounds, moving ceases to be an option. His grip is hard enough to bruise.
“But maybe, just maybe, I can see where you’re coming from, even though I think its bullshit. Maybe, just maybe, I can forgive you for breaking my brother’s heart because God knows you’re breaking mine. Why didn’t you just tell me? Did you think I would hate you? That I would be disgusted by you? If I ever gave you that idea, then I’m fucking sorry.” His voice breaks at that last bit, and I can’t help but be an asshole and think, Oh Jesus, embargo on crying! Embargo all around!
He surprises me then by crushing me into him, knocking the breath out of me, knocking my world off its axis. Just a moment ago, I was planning our escape from Creed’s wrath, but now I don’t know what to do. I don’t know that is, until he whispers in my ear.
“You’re my brother, you big queen. I will love you no matter what you do, who you do, or where you do it. Do we have a clear understanding?” He sniffs noisily.
I nod as best I can, as my face is crushed against his chest. All I want to do is stay there for a while and—wait a minute. What the hell did he say? “You’ll love me no matter where I do it?”
He pulls back and grins. “Well, I don’t know what you’re into now that you like cock. I bet you’re into some pretty weird shit.” His eyes narrow. “Stay out of my room,” he warns.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Um. About that.”
“Bear! You better be fucking kidding me!” He punches me in the arm. Hard.
“Bastard,” I snarl and punch him back.
He sidesteps and winks and is about to turn when I see a shadow cross his eyes. He turns back to me. “What the hell does he have that I don’t?”
I choke, wishing the ground would open up and swallow this idiot. “You’re kidding, right?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe that’s what I’ll decide to be pissed about now. You think that old man is hotter than I am?”
“That’s… gross, Creed. That’s really fucking gross.”
“Ow. Thanks for the ego boost. Do you like ABBA now?”
“How do you even know who they are? Aside from the fact that you love them so much?”
“Am I going to have to go shopping with you and talk about my feelings?”
“I’ve seen the way you dress. It couldn’t hurt.”
He grins evilly and steps forward leaning over to whisper in my ear. “You’re totally the bottom, aren’t you? I bet you love it.”
“The first time we did anything, it was me fucking your brother,” I whisper back.
The color drains from his face, and I know I’ve won. He pats my shoulder and tells me how nice for the both of us. He looks serious again when he says, “Is it strong?”
My head snaps up and down, just once.
He grunts thoughtfully as only he can, and with that, I know that all the fears I’ve had about him are unfounded. I can’t help but feel like an ass for not having enough faith and trust in Creed. I lose myself for a moment, thinking about a time when we were eleven, maybe twelve. It was just the two of us, walking along the beach, the wind whipping around, picking up sand and flinging it back in our faces. He had looked at me and said—
He looks at me and says he’s always wanted to have a little brother. I punch him in the arm and remind him that I am older than he is. He smiles and nods and says, “You know what I mean.”
And I do. I’ve felt the same since I could remember. It’s tough being an only child, but this isn’t a thought I share, because it’s no longer true. I pick up a rock and skip it out over the waves, watching it bounce.
He says, “We’re probably going to have to be friends forever now. You know that, right?”
I laugh, only because I know it’s true. Later, when he pricks his finger, blood blossoms as he waits for me to do the same. It’s childish, it’s lame, and we both know it. But that doesn’t stop us from pushing the tips of our fingers together, mixing DNA and secrets into something that only we can understand.
He whispers, “Now it’s really forever.” His eyes gleam. “It’s strong.”
And it’s like getting smacked in the face with the sun.
“Creed?” I ask as he walks back to the couch, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Can… can this be fixed?” I don’t dare to elaborate, because speaking of it aloud would show how fragile it really is. I close my eyes and wait for his answer.
“Is it strong?” he asks again gruffly. I don’t know how, but I know he’s remembering the same things I am.
“It is,” I mumble.
“Then it’s never too late to fix it. I’ll say one thing about it, and I swear you’ll never hear me speak of it again: you destroyed him, Bear.”
My head hangs.
“When he told me, you know, about everything, the only other thing I remember besides being shocked to hell and back is the look on his face. He didn’t want to tell me what was wrong at first, but it didn’t take me long to figure it out.” He sighs. “He’s broken, Bear, and I don’t know what it’s going to take to fix it. But if it’s strong, if what you’ve said today is true, then you know as well as I do that it has to be fixed. If it can’t be… well, I don’t know. The last twenty-four hours have shown how little I really do know.” He says this last without any anger in his voice. “You mind telling us what the hell happened? It was your mom, wasn’t it?”
And then it spills out of me, her vitriol, her threats to take away what’s mine, the look of victory in her eyes when she knew she had me cornered and that I wasn’t going to fight my way out. My voice is flat, hollow. There’s no anger, no sadness. I’m reciting events that could have happened to someone else. It’s the only way that I can get through it. I get to the part where the Kid is played as a pawn, and I think my voice will catch. I think it will stutter and stop, but I push through. Reliving it again, detached. As I look back at my words and actions from last night, I hate myself for being so weak, hate myself for falling into her trap. I wish I could believe her threats are empty, but I can’t. The small part of me that dreams of the ocean reminds me how easy it would be for her to come back, how easy it would be for her take the Kid away. It swells in me and is once again threatening to take over. I still don’t know if I am strong enough to push it away, to kill it. I had told Creed that it was strong, what I feel for his brother, and that wasn’t a lie. It’s just one side of the war that I am trying to win.
You just walked out on him, it whispers. You sat there and lied to his face and then walked out. What makes you think he will even give you the time of day? You heard Creed: he’s broken, and you broke him. You were strong enough to do that at least, weren’t you?
Ah, sweet words, caressing.
I FINISH the story, the last story I think I want to tell for a while. All I want to do is go home and lay down for a week and worry about everything when I wake up. But I know I can’t, because he will be there when I close my eyes, laughing, grinning, dancing.
I ache.
“What changed, then?” Creed asks. “What makes you want him back now as opposed to the dick move you made last night?”
I try to smile, but I think it comes out more as a grimace. I had been expecting this question ever since I opened my mouth with a request to help me fix the mess I’d made. I’m almost amused that there never seemed to be any question of wanting to get him back, that I most likely should have avoided this whole mess to begin with. The question now arises as to whether or not Otter will take all leave of his senses and even be able to be in the same room as me. But this is beside the point. I’ve hesitated too long and the others are staring at me, waiting for an answer. I try to find the words to say, to express how it means to feel love-smacked, lust-infused, heart like shattered glass. I need them to understand that I am not complete without him. But I think I’ve already said as m
uch as I could on the matter. Maybe I should let Otter say something.
I grab my wallet from my back pocket and pull out the letter that I’ve kept secreted away for twenty months. I don’t need to read it again. I already have it memorized.
I know you were hurt and have every reason to be angry, but just know that there hasn’t been a day that has gone by that I haven’t thought about you and Ty. Maybe that’s my punishment, knowing you are doing well and knowing I had nothing to do with it. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, for having done so great despite people breaking their promises to you.
It was good to see you, even if it was only for a moment. I am glad I got at least that. I’ve missed you, Papa Bear.
Anna grabs it first. I’d almost forgotten she was even here. It only takes her a moment to read through the words, her face tightening slightly as she reads. She thrusts it to Mrs. Paquinn, who handles the worn paper more gingerly. Anna looks back at me, her mouth set. “When?” she asks. “When did he send this to you?”
For a moment, I almost think of lying. But I don’t. “He left it on my car the Christmas before last when he came home.”
She nods and looks away.
Mrs. Paquinn sniffs. “It sounded like he was saying good-bye.”
Creed finishes and hands it off to the Kid. “It sounded like he was trying to apologize for leaving,” Creed says.
The Kid then speaks up: “No,” he says, looking up from the page. He folds it gently and hands it back to me. He waits until I have put it in its rightful place, and then he says softly: “It’s a love letter. He’s telling Bear he loves him without even saying the words.” The Kid again has seen what most of us could not. I should no longer be surprised when he provides the insight that none of the rest of us have.
“Even then?” Creed asks. “It goes all the way back that far?”
And then Anna stands. Her body is rigid, her fists clenched, eyes wet and angry. I don’t think I have seen her like this before, not even when we broke up. She’s enraged, and I know it’s my fault. I’ve made so many goddamn mistakes. I’ve been selfish. I’ve been a liar, and Anna has been the one hit over the head the most with this. I’d been expecting the worst, and it looks like I’m about to get it. It’s as much as I deserve.
“You stupid bastard!” she cries out. I flinch only slightly when she runs at me and starts beating her hands against my chest. I raise my hands to defend myself, but Creed has already pulled her away, and I see with some sick amusement that the Kid has pushed himself between me and her and is trying to guard me with his little body. “How dare you!” she shrieks and tries to break from Creed’s hold. “You motherfucker!” She turns into Creed’s shoulder and sobs. The Kid is tense before me. I reach down and put my hand on his shoulder, wishing it didn’t have to be this way.
A few minutes later, Anna regains some composure as Creed whispers in her ear and turns to me again, but he has ahold of her and isn’t letting her near me. I think maybe it’s best to let her have her say and have it done with, but, of course, that’s not the way it works out.
“Anna,” the Kid says, jaw clenched. “Bear made mistakes. He already said he did. You have every right to be angry, but if you hit him again, I swear to God I will hit you back. I don’t care if you’re a girl and bigger than me. If you touch him, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
You want to know what it feels like to be castrated? Trying having your nine-year-old brother protect you from your ex-girlfriend after you’ve told her you’re in love with a man.
We all stare down at the Kid, whose face is white with anger. Anna turns, and I think she is going to walk out, and I won’t blame if her she does. But she surprises me when she stops. For a moment, I feel the silence is going to crush us all. Then: “Did you ever really care about me at all?”
Creed shakes his head, and his shoulders sag. He looks like he wants to apologize to me for her, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand. It’s unrealistic to have expected her to have the same reaction as Creed. She had more to lose, and I can blame no one but myself.
“Of course I did,” I say truthfully. “You have to believe me when I say that. I still do.”
She spins around, eyes flashing. “I don’t know what to believe from you anymore. I gave you so many opportunities, so many chances to just tell me the truth.”
I cock my head at her. “You knew, didn’t you?” It’s out before I can stop myself.
Her hair flips angrily as she nods. “I knew… something. I didn’t want to believe it. But you can’t be as close as you and I were without seeing it. How you were around him. How, even when you were at your angriest, there was still something in your voice when you talked about him. I told myself I was just seeing things, that I was just—”
“Projecting?” I say, not able to keep my fool mouth shut.
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You bastard,” she says again. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I was scared.”
“Of me?”
I shake my head. “No. Of everything else. I didn’t know who I was, much less what the fuck I was doing. I thought that was pretty obvious by now.”
She frowns at me, cheeks wet. God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
“And now?” she asks.
Yes, Bear, it asks. What now? She’s right, you know. She’s given you so many openings. And here she is doing it again. I believe this will be the last time, so you might as well go out with a bang, don’t you think?
“I love him, Anna. It’s not meant to hurt you, and it doesn’t make what I feel for you any less important. I was wrong with so many things, but I at least know I love him. It’s the only thing I have left.” I look down at the floor.
“I loved you,” she sniffs. “I don’t know if I can ever get over this.”
“Will you try?” It’s unfair to ask, but as this conversation has pointed out, I’m kind of a selfish jerk. “I don’t know if I can do this without you.”
“You said that to me once. Do you remember? And you seem to have gotten along just fine without me.” The anger rises again in her voice. “How soon was it, anyways?”
“What?” I know what she’s asking, and I attempt to stall.
“That you fucked him. How soon was it after we broke up?” Her eyes narrow. “Or were we still together?” she scowls through gritted teeth.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Right after.”
“I hope it was worth it,” she snarls.
I look her in the eye. “It was.”
She nods, arms crossed. “Finally some fucking honesty from you. I told you that you broke my heart. Do you remember? Do you remember what I said after that?”
I do.
“I told you that you may have broken my heart, but that it was mine to give.”
“I know.”
As long as I live, I will never understand women. She jumps at me again, and the Kid raises his fists, and I really think he’s going to punch her in the boob, but he squawks as he is trapped between us as she wraps her arms around my neck. I had forgotten what it feels like to hold her there, to feel her against me. While it doesn’t do what it did before, there is something still there, something that releases and breaks open. We cry into each other’s hair, and I think it will be okay if we enacted the embargo tomorrow.
After a while, she quiets down. She hiccups and leans in, her lips brushing against my ear. “Is it?” she asks. “What you said to Creed? Is it strong?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
She laughs miserably. “You never pick the easy road, do you?”
“Not my style,” I whisper back.
She leans back, and our faces are close as our eyes search each other’s. “I don’t know if I’ll get over this,” she says again. “But I hope you’ll give me the time to try.”
“I mean what I said, Anna. I love you.”
“I know, Bear. And maybe one
day, that will be enough.” She drops her arms and walks back to the couch. Mrs. Paquinn reaches up and pulls her down into a hug.
“Give her time, man,” Creed whispers, eyes begging. “She’ll come around. Just don’t… don’t give up on her.”
“I won’t,” I say. How can I? She’s family.
“So what now? You gonna go fix this now? With him?” he asks.
“I can’t.”
Now the room explodes.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” screams Creed.
“Are you kidding me?” screams the Kid.
“Are you retarded?” screams Anna.
“Aahhhhhhhhhhh!” screams Mrs. Paquinn.
Jesus Christ. “I will!” I shout over them. “Fuck, let me talk!”
They all shut up, at least having the decency to blush.
I take a breath. “I can’t, not until the Kid is safe. Not until I have a plan, something to make sure our mom can’t take him away from me. That’s what this whole fucking thing is about.”
“No, Bear,” the Kid drawls. “This was your coming-out party. Don’t put me in the middle of it.”
“You little shit,” I growl as I pick him up and press him against me again. I feel better knowing he’s near.
“Seriously, how the hell are we going to do that?” Creed asks. I don’t make mention of his saying we, because if I’ve learned anything today, it’s that these decisions are no longer mine alone to make. Whatever is decided affects all of us. I won’t make that mistake again.
“Bear? If I may,” Mrs. Paquinn says. “Haven’t you thought about getting custody of Tyson?”
“How?” I say stupidly.
“Legally,” she says, barely restraining the eye roll. “Haven’t you ever talked to a lawyer about this?”
“I don’t know any lawyers,” I say, as if this explains everything,
“Well, I do. I used to do paralegal work for a law office, you know.”
“Well, isn’t that just convenient,” Creed mutters.
I ignore him. “This isn’t like the time you raced stock cars, is it?”
She smiles beautifully at me. “I never raced stock cars, Bear.”