A statuesque woman walks down the stairs, her dark brown hair pulled back into a long ponytail, and I quickly take note that her shorts are comparable to mine. She pulls Justin into a tight embrace, with watery eyes and a shaky smile.
“You look like a grown man,” she says, wiping away tears.
Justin’s smile is a tad steadier as he pulls away. He lets her hold him at arm’s length, looking him over. I stand off to the side, holding my backpack in front of me awkwardly. When she finally releases him, he takes a step toward me, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“Mom, this is Lilly. Lilly, this is my mom, Teresa.” I feel like an object he’s presenting to the class for show-and-tell.
“Lilly, call me Tess.”
There is no hug or handshake in greeting, and I’m silently grateful. Although, at the same time, I'm alarmed considering her more than welcome greeting she had for Justin. It is her son, but still. I focus on Justin’s presence next to me and the calming circles he's drawing on my side.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say with a smile.
A younger male’s voice pulls our attention back to the house. “Not as nice as it is to meet me.”
“Jake,” Justin says with one of his rare, wide-eyed smiles. He releases me and meets his brother halfway up the porch steps in a bulldozer type of hug. They slap each other on the back a few times before letting go.
“Mom’s right. I think I see some gray hairs, old man.”
Justin slaps Jacob’s hand away and pulls him into a headlock under his arm. “What did you say?” Justin says, tightening the hold.
“I said,” Jacob wheezes. “You look good, man.”
“That’s what I thought,” Justin says, releasing him.
“Boys,” Tess says, trying but failing to reprimand them through a smile. “Bring the bags inside.”
Jacob skips down the porch steps, stopping before me. “Jake, at your service,” he says, swooping into a bow and taking my backpack.
“Where’s Dad?” Justin asks, a hesitant look on his face.
“He’s checking the irrigation system at the end of the plot. He’ll be back by dinner.”
She leads the way, evidently expecting me to follow. I look over my shoulder and catch Jacob playfully shoving Justin as he picks up my duffel bag, throwing him off balance.
“Put Lilly’s bags in the den,” she tosses over her shoulder.
“Mom,” Justin says daringly. “We don’t need to stay in separate rooms.”
I cringe. He basically just told his mother that we have sex all the time.
“I don’t care. In my house you’ll respect my rules.” Tess's words leave no room for negotiation.
“I've been living by myself for—”
“Justin,” she cuts him off.
He gives me a repentant look and I smile, silently give him props for trying.
“Someone’s not getting any tonight.” Jacob's smile flees from his face the moment Tess pins him with a look. “What?” he says, shrugging one shoulder with a playful smile. “He’s not.”
She shakes her head despairingly and spins back around, but not before a ghost of a smile appears on her face.
“I’ll stay in the den, Mom. Lilly can have my room.”
We enter the foyer and she gives him a proud smile. “You’re such a gentleman. Show her to your room and then meet me in the kitchen. Dinner is already on the stove.”
The inside of the house looks exactly like what I'd expect: eclectic in the sense that everything serves a purpose.
The walls are bare, leaving the furniture as the only decorations, and it reminds me of home. Justin leads the way up the flight of stairs. He waits at the top of the landing, letting me pass. “To the right.” Justin motions to a door with a crook of his head, both hands weighed down by bags.
I hear Jacob whisper something and a smacking sound makes me turn around.
“Quit checking out my girlfriend.” Justin is glaring at him.
“She’s closer to my age than yours, old man.” Jacob is unapologetic as he shoots me a wink, quickly ducking into the next bedroom.
“Little shit,” Justin says, dropping my bag on the twin-sized bed.
Justin’s room matches his apartment, completely void of all personality. The walls are pale blue, probably the same blue they were painted when he was a baby.
He sits on the quilted bedspread and I say, “Your mom is…”
“Intimidating,” he fills in for me.
“That’s a good adjective.”
He smirks and pulls me between his legs. “She’ll loosen up. She’s putting on a good show.”
“How long has it been since you've been home?”
“Technically, three years, but even before then I wasn’t really here. After I got out I rented a small apartment from the neighbors.”
“Why?”
He breathes in and out a few times and then pushes his face into the softness of my belly. “My dad went to rehab right after I was sentenced. Apparently he blames himself for me getting in trouble. When I got out, he claimed he was sober and wanted to pick up a relationship with me out of thin air. My mom expected me to greet him with open arms, like he wasn’t the broken man I saw all my life. And I couldn’t do it.”
I run my fingers through his hair, trying to grasp what it would be like. I think about my mom and how I'd feel if she wanted to pretend she’d never left, that even before that she never drank herself to sleep every day, and I already know it wouldn't be possible.
He teases a kiss under my shirt. “We should get downstairs before your mom gets suspicious.”
“My mom can take a chill pill.” He kisses a little higher up, my shirt inching along with his lips.
“She hasn’t seen you in years. Be a good son and spend time with her.”
A voice comes from the doorway. “Listen to her.” A tall, wiry man leans against the door, wringing a towel between his hands. I quickly tug my shirt down and move away from my close proximity to Justin.
“Dad,” Justin greets him, monotone.
“It’s good to see you, son. Been too long.”
Neither one of them makes a move toward the other. It's the polar opposite of the reception he got from his mother.
“Hi, I’m Lilly.”
“Bruce,” he says with a genuine smile.
There’s a moment of silence and I clap my hands together to try and break the awkwardness, “Well, I don't want to keep your mom waiting.”
Justin doesn't bother for niceties, standing as he ushers me past his father and down the stairs. We’re greeted with the smell of dinner and my stomach rumbles, having long missed the smell of home-cooked food.
“Chicken spaghetti?” Justin asks, a small amount of excitement filtering into his voice.
Tess and Justin share the same megawatt smile as he dips his finger in the sauce and tastes it.
“Figured I had to bribe you to come home more often,” Tess says, watching her son.
“You’d figure my handsome face would be incentive enough,” Jacob says, bounding into the kitchen. “But now I see why you didn't want to come home…scared I’ll steal your girl.”
“Can I help with anything?” I ask, feeling out of place.
“You can help Jacob set the table,” she says, pointing at the cupboard.
Jacob divvies out plates, bouncing his eyebrows up and down as I take them.
“If you don’t keep your eyes to yourself, I’m going to shave your eyebrows off again,” Justin warns.
This spikes my interest. “Again?”
“Oh yeah. I spent my freshman year of high school a virgin because my brother was an asinine dick.”
“The bastard wouldn’t stay out of my room,” Justin says in defense.
Jacob leans into me and whispers, “He had the best porn mags.”
“Which you stole,” Justin accuses.
“What else was I supposed to do when I looked like a naked mole rat?”
�
��Boys,” Tess says in warning.
Justin hugs his mom around the shoulders. “Lighten up. I'm sure Jake doesn't have them anymore.”
Jacob agrees. “It's been a long time since I've needed—”
“That's enough,” Tess says, fed up with their antics. “You owe Lilly an apology for being so crude.”
Jacob rolls his head dramatically, throwing his arm over my shoulders in the same fashion. “Sorry, Lilly.” Justin walks over and pops him in the same spot as he did earlier. “Ow, quit doing that or I’m going to have permanent brain damage.”
“I warned you.”
“You said I couldn’t look at her. You didn’t say anything about touching her.”
Their dad strolls between them, preventing Justin from advancing on Jacob, and greets his wife with a kiss on the cheek. “Tess, it smells wonderful.”
Justin distracts himself by kissing my neck, tickling me with his chin hairs, earning a look of admonishment from Tess.
“She's my girlfriend, Mother,” he says with a hint of derision.
“And you're under my roof.”
Justin's dad speaks up. “Tess, he's not a little boy anymore.” This placates her, but only marginally. Her lips are thin as she turns away and continues stirring dinner.
I have to fend Justin off multiple times, and I can see the playfulness that Jacob has in him. The only difference between Jacob’s and his is Justin's is weighted down. It's more subdued, a litter rougher around the edges, where Jacob's is untainted and boyish. I look to his dad, smiling at Tess's failing attempts to discipline her children, and Jacob’s mission to annoy Justin at all costs. I can’t see the man who Justin hates. And I have a hard time picturing Tess staying with a man who was less than stellar to her kids. The image before me is muddled by what I know Justin has told me.
We spend the rest of the evening laughing at Justin and Jacob banter back and forth. They spit insults and retell childhood memories, almost every one of them ending in pain or humiliation. I learn about how Justin got the scar on his lip and a crooked nose—a story including a jealous girlfriend, a bicycle, and scratch-n-sniff stickers. Tess has given up on attempting to get them to behave, simply enjoying their happiness.
Justin’s dad doesn’t say much of anything, but his laughter joins the rest of ours. He and Tess share thoughtful looks and smiles, and I find Justin looking at me in the same way. He's happy that I enjoy being with his family, even if he's not at peace with the man sitting at the end of the table.
I hold steady to Justin’s side when he turns down his dad’s offer to have tea on the back porch. There's hurt in his mom’s eyes, disappointment in his dad’s, but it’s his choice. Jacob avoids the entire situation with his head down, charging up the stairs ahead of us.
“You okay?” I ask once we’re back in his bedroom. He gives nothing away as he shuts the door and pulls me down with him across the bed. “We're going to get in trouble.”
“What’s she going to do? Kick me out?”
“She might kick me out, and I want to make a good impression. And you didn't help with pushing her buttons.”
“The only impression you need to make is on me. A strip tease should work.”
I roll my eyes and swat at his chest as I sit up. “Justin, seriously.”
He breathes in the way he does when he’s annoyed by something. It’s usually directed at Lance during study group. “I’m not going the entire weekend without touching you.”
“You went weeks without touching me. You’ll be fine.”
I rest my head in the palm of my hand and lie down next to him. We’re silent, and I study his profile as he stares at the ceiling, thinking about so much. I run my fingers across the knuckles folded across his chest.
“Your dad doesn’t seem so bad.”
“No, I guess he doesn’t.”
I don’t press the issue as I continue to put gentle pressure against his hands, trying to give him solace. He continues to stare at the ceiling as I wait for him to voice his thoughts.
“He was an angry drunk.” I hold my breath at his words. “He was verbally abusive to my mom, sometimes physically, too.” He can see the question behind my eyes, the fear in them. “He didn’t touch me or my brother. Only once when I was older we got in a fistfight. I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore, and I knew just what to say to set him off.”
“You wanted a fight.”
He nods. “I was angry. I wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt me, as much as he’d hurt my mom, and for everything my brother and I had to see. I’d been waiting on the day I could stand up to him.”
“Years worth of anger.”
“It was the same night of the robbery.”
The glimpses he’s shared with me are falling into place like puzzle pieces. “That’s what triggered him to get sober?”
“Supposedly.”
I lay my head down on his chest, letting the rhythmic rise and fall soothe the both of us. He runs his fingers up and down my side, easing me.
“Do you believe love has conditions?”
My question stirs him out of his thoughts. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think you can only love someone if they’re good to you? Can you love someone despite their wrongdoings?”
He takes a moment to think about it. “I think love is love. Even if you try to convince yourself it’s not, it’s still there.”
“But what if that person never loved you in the first place?”
He shifts to where he can see my face, pulling my chin upward. “Where’s this coming from?”
I shrug. “I understand how hard it is to forgive your dad. My mom was an alcoholic. After my dad died, she quit being a mom. She wasn’t mean, necessarily, just neglectful. Kip says she wasn’t always that way, but I don’t remember her being a mom, you know? How do I even know if she loved me?”
“Lilly,” he says, hurt lacing his voice. Hurt for my hurt.
“But I still feel like I love her. I don’t know if I forgive her for leaving us. I just kind of feel like she wasn’t emotionally there to process everything.”
He runs his fingers through the hair tucked behind my ear. “I can’t speak for your mom, but I can’t imagine anyone incapable of loving you.”
“But she still left.”
He doesn’t respond, most likely unsure of what to say. It’s hard to justify a mother leaving her children regardless of the situation. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me as close to him as we can possibly fit.
Momentarily, I'm guilty for directing the attention to my problems when we’re currently living in his, but I think it’s what he needs. He needs to focus on something to lessen his afflictions. A sense of belonging fills my chest, and I never want to be without it.
The feel of his lips against my forehead is the last thing I feel before I fall asleep.
A LOUD BANG SHAKES US from our sleep, and we jump apart, sitting up to find the source of the noise. Justin’s bedroom door is wide open, Jacob standing in the middle. He’s wearing white boxer briefs and a long yellow cape tied around his neck. He stands tall with his hands balled into fists on his hips and chest poked out.
“What the fuck, Jacob?” Justin yells at him.
“Have no fear,” he bellows in an exaggerated deep voice. “Your trusty sidekick is here.”
I start laughing hysterically. Jacob wearing white underwear leaves nothing to the imagination. Justin covers my eyes.
“Get the fuck out,” Justin yells louder this time.
“Look.”
I hear rustling and struggle to remove Justin’s hand from my face. Jacob holds up a blue cape fashioned out of the same material his yellow one is in. “I made you one. Took forever for them to dry. And…” He pulls an extra pink one from behind his back. “I made one especially for Lilly.”
Justin is utterly baffled. He’s speechless as he looks at his grown brother dressed in tighty-whities and a cape. “Jacob,” he says, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Get
out of my room before I shove that cape up your ass.”
“Meet me downstairs. Clothing optional.” He winks at me and skips out of the door right as Justin hurls a shoe at him, missing by a centimeter.
I’m still giggling when I make it into the kitchen, freshly dressed and showered from the long day before, feeling like a day of adventure lies before me. Jacob’s excitement might have rubbed off on me.
He’s sitting at the kitchen table, scarfing down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, his cape tied around clothed shoulders this time. He gives me a cheeky smile full of food.
“You don’t have to pretend you don’t like what you see.”
Tess replaces Justin’s role and slaps Jacob across the back of the head. “Eat your food. Lilly, there’s plenty of breakfast on the stove. Help yourself.”
“Thank you.”
There is no mention of Justin and me sleeping in his room last night, and I don’t chance it by bringing it up. I fix a plate of eggs and breakfast sausage, sitting opposite Jacob.
“What’s up with the capes?”
“Other than they’re awesome?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“That’s the explanation…they’re awesome.”
Justin struts into the kitchen, running his fingers through his wet hair. “Morning.” He kisses me, something quick and endearing, moving toward the food on the stove.
It’s not until I tear my gaze from Justin that I catch Jacob scrutinizing me. It’s the only way I can describe the seriousness of his attention. My stupid, happy grin slips from my face. It’s a complete one-eighty from the happy-go-lucky personality he’s demonstrated since I’ve arrived. It’s assessing, and it sets me on edge, reminding me too much of Justin.
“What?” I ask self-consciously.
Slowly, his face morphs back to normal. “Nothing.” With a grin on his face, he tosses me the pink cape and stands from the kitchen table. “Meet me at the barn in ten minutes.”
“No jumping off the roof,” Tess states behind her curtain of newspaper.
“We’re not, Mom.” He slaps the table and points at Justin. “Don’t be late.” We watch him escape through the back door, his yellow cape flying behind him.
“He’s strange,” I say to no one in particular.
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