He huffed. “Where should I begin?”
“How about the beginning?”
“You know the beginning. Texan orphan moves to Center County with surrogate family, falls in love with his best friend’s cousin, an ex-athlete who’s the farthest thing from gay. Bet you can guess the end.”
“Tristan, what’s going on? What happened? Did you and Luke have a fight?”
“You could say that. We broke up.”
Her heart stopped. “What?”
“It’s over, Shei.”
“Why?” She was shocked at how upset this news made her. “You love him.”
“Yeah, well, it gets a little old loving someone who will always hate loving you back. It’s over. We’re done. I’m actually looking for a new job and I’m going to be moving out of your aunt’s house real soon.”
She couldn’t breathe. “What? You can’t move! You’re family.”
“That’s the thing, Shei, I’m not.” He was quiet for a moment and she swore she heard him crying. He proved her correct when he spoke, his voice restricted and so full of anguish it was agony to hear. “I just can’t do it any more, the lying, the hiding. I want him, but he’ll never love me enough to accept who he is.”
Oh my God. Her heart broke for him. “Do you want me to come home?”
“No. There’s nothing for you to do here. I’ll be fine. I’ll get over it. And one day your brother will have the normal life he needs.”
“Screw normal, Tristan. This isn’t fair!”
“Tell me about it. Look, baby girl, I gotta go.”
She panicked. If he left, when would she see him again? He was part of going home. He counted as much as the rest of their family. “Tristan, wait!”
“Yeah?”
Tears blurred her vision. This wasn’t at all how this was supposed to happen. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
She sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “No, I love you like a brother. I get it now. You’re my friend. I know what he means to you. I need you to know I forgive you for the kiss and that I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused.”
“You were young, Shei. We should have handled things different. We wanted to, but…Luke is just…Luke.”
“Promise me you’ll call me. I can’t lose you, Tristan.”
He waited long enough that she knew his agreement would be a lie. “Okay, baby girl.”
Emotion choked her as the line went dead. Falling to her pillows she cried. She cried for all the trouble she caused. She cried for Tristan’s broken heart. She cried for the friend she was doomed to lose. She cried for her brother’s fear of being ostracized.
He’d let others’ expectations cripple his ability to move forward in life and find his own version of happy. He was chasing some form of normal that never existed at all. Then she cried, because she was exactly the same way, always trying to be what others expected, afraid to have a bad day or emotional one.
Luke was so certain his friends and family would be upset that he was gay. No one of that ilk gave a shit what he was. They only wanted him to be happy. It was part of the reason she’d been mad at him for years. Tristan was a good man and didn’t deserve to be kept like a dirty secret.
She stared at the letter by the door, waiting to go to the post office. So many of the issues they had over the years were suddenly irrelevant. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to forgive him, apologize, or be furious with him for hurting Tristan. She climbed out of bed and ripped it to shreds, sobbing as each hopeless piece of her wretched past fell to the floor.
“Why did you feel the need to rip it up?”
Sheilagh shrugged, not wanting to go over this again. The green couch wasn’t so soft today and the candies in the jar weren’t the chocolate ones.
“Do you plan on talking to your brother? Any other ideas?”
Shrug.
“Can you share how you’re feeling about it?”
Shrug.
“Sheilagh, why are you here?”
She looked at Megan. “It’s our appointment.”
“But I can’t help you if you don’t talk. Therapy is about talking through the issues.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“What if we pretend Luke was here now? What would you say to him?”
Selfish. Coward. You don’t know what you’ve done. He’s too good for you. How could you? You had everything I wanted and threw it away. We love you. No one cares if you’re gay.
“I don’t know what I’d say to him. It wouldn’t be nice.”
“No one said you had to be nice. It’s just us here.”
Her throat constricted. “He broke his heart. I’ve never heard Tristan sound so hopeless and alone. He’s gonna leave now and it’s all Luke’s fault.”
“It sounds like you don’t want Tristan to leave?”
“Because…he’s family. He shouldn’t have to leave.”
“Just family?”
She shook her head. “It’s not like that anymore. I don’t love him any other way now.”
She felt Megan’s surprise, that strange way she said nothing so Sheilagh would go on. She didn’t. “Is there something else on your mind?”
“I beat up Alec’s son.”
Megan leaned forward a trifle before collecting herself. Aha! Shocked the therapist at last!
“Would you care to elaborate?”
“He was rude. He insulted me. I gave him fair warning. He didn’t listen. I kicked his ass. Alec broke it up—”
“Alec was there when this happened?”
“Not at first. We sort of ran into him…on the sidewalk…as I chased Wes outside and tackled him.”
“You tackled him?”
“I gave him a head start.”
“What was going through your head as you did this?”
Sheilagh blinked, still not feeling much like talking. “That this kid didn’t get spanked enough as a child.”
“Did your parents spank you?”
“Yes, but don’t get too excited. I don’t have any weird issues from it. Most of the time I deserved it.”
“What was one of the causes for getting spanked as a child?”
She shrugged. “There were a lot. I never felt unloved. Most of the time I deserved it. Like this one time, I shaved Kelly’s eyebrows off and used a permanent marker to give him a beard.”
“How old were you?”
“I was maybe eleven. Kelly was thirteen. It’s when he started changing and getting into girls. He needed to be brought down a peg.”
“And you thought that was your duty?”
“Not really, but Braydon didn’t have the balls. Someone needed to do it.”
“I see.”
“I think that was the last time I was spanked.”
“Do you know if Alec spanked Wesley when he was younger?”
She snorted. “Doubtful. He’s the philosopher king. Violence is beneath him.”
“Do you see spanking as a violent act?”
She shrugged. “No. Not really. At least I don’t blame my parents for disciplining me that way. I was a pretty tough kid. But now-a-days it’s different. Parents can’t do that anymore.”
“Do you plan on having children, Sheilagh?”
She blew out a breath, eyes wide. “Wow, doc, way to slip in a loaded question. I don’t know. It depends.”
“On?”
“Who I marry.”
“How does that affect your decision?”
“Well, Alec can’t have children. His boys were snipped.”
“He’s had vasectomy?”
“I know they can reverse it, but that seems like an awful lot of stress down there. If I’m meant to be with him maybe I’m not meant to have children. My brother just had a son and it was really scary. They used nontraditional methods of conception and sometimes I wonder if they messed with destiny.”
“Do you believe in destiny?”
“I don’t know.”
“You se
em to pick and choose your belief systems, Sheilagh, assigning certain absolutes to other people and certain ones to yourself, but never using the same measuring stick universally. Why do you think that is?”
Her expectation for Megan’s next words was absolute, desperate. “You tell me. Seriously, Megan, tell me, because I’m not sure I know.” Her voice was practically pleading.
“Okay,” she said. “I suspect it’s because you don’t believe you deserve to be happy.”
The banter stopped. Megan just dropped a bomb and Sheilagh’s instinct was to bolt. “Yes, I do.”
“Good. I wanted to hear you say it.”
“You tricked me.”
“No, I made a hypothesis and gave you the opportunity to disprove it.”
“Whatever. Technicalities.”
“Does it frustrate you, admitting you deserve to be happy as much as anyone else?”
“No. I want to be happy.”
“So what’s stopping you? Tell me what would make you happy.”
Getting out of this office. She looked at the clock. Damn it. Twenty minutes left. “Alec makes me happy. Christmas with my family makes me happy. Seeing all my siblings makes me happy. My nieces and nephews make me happy. Should I go on?”
“That’s a lot of references to family. Do you think this is why you’ve turned down Alec’s proposal?”
“No. I told you. I said no because each time he asked he was either drunk or panicked. A girl can hope for romance.”
“Tell me your definition of romance.”
She rolled her eyes. “All the same cheesy shit every girl wants.”
“You’d be surprised how varying people’s definitions of romance are. Enlighten me.”
“He came after me when he thought I was leaving him. That was romantic.” She glanced at her hands, recalling how frightened he’d been at the idea of losing her. “You should have seen him. He was beside himself. He grabbed me, right there on the side of the road, and kissed me with such desperation, such passion, barely taking his lips off of mine to beg me not to go.” She looked at Megan. “It was a total miscommunication, but you get the gist. That’s romantic.”
“So I’m going to try and paraphrase here. Romance, in your opinion, isn’t flowers and candlelight. It’s raw desire, seeing a man humbled.”
“Yes. In a way it’s breaking the law, because nothing else matters but that one person.”
“Legislative laws or are you speaking of the laws of nature?”
“All of the above. Kelly ended up in jail because a man hurt his wife. Colin went against his God for Sammy. Finn…Finn would never break the rules, but he went after Mallory when she ran and she runs a lot.”
“And what about your parents?”
She smiled. “My dad stole my mum. Ran off with her and eloped. When they came home—married—my granddad shot him.”
She laughed at Megan’s expression of shock. Once again she’d surprised her therapist.
“I see. Do you have an idea where you want your relationship with Alec to go, Sheilagh?”
She grinned softly, feeling all sorts of warm and fuzzy butterflies and girlie crap in her chest. “I think he’ll ask again and I’ll probably say yes. He chased me. He stood up to his son for me. He stood up to Tristan and my brothers. We’re scary people, so that’s sort of a big deal.” Her smile tightened. “He loves me. I know he does.” Something unfamiliar and confident swelled inside of her.
“But more importantly, I love him. He’s shown me what real love is and disproved everything I assumed it was. Everything I ever believed about love was a childish impression of the real thing. There’s absolutely nothing fake about our feelings for each other. We see each other’s flaws and love each other more for them. Funny, how finally understanding that makes me not so concerned about solving all the other puzzles of life. It’s like a pressure’s been lifted. He’s given me something I know I can depend on. I think the Beatles nailed it. All you need is love.”
Chapter Thirteen
I’ve always been better at judging others than judging myself. When I met Ashlynn, I thought she was a prude. That was easier than considering myself slutty. Luke was devastated after losing his scholarship. In my mind I judged him as dramatic, throwing away my own opportunities in spite of his loss. Sammy was too quiet when she first came around and calling her that somehow made me feel less obnoxious. But the more I think about all of them, the more I realize how much we’re all alike. Colin wanted to be the man he thought the family would praise. Finn struggled to take on the family legacy so not to let down Dad and the uncles. Kelly never tried to do more than fulfill people’s low expectations, surprising them all when he stepped up to an incredible challenge. And then there was Luke. Luke had forsaken the very basis of his happiness in order to fit some mold he’d concocted in his head. Just like me, they were all faking it on some level. I’m not sure why, but realizing this truth about Luke made my own existence that much more shameful. We’re the same and I’ve punished him for everything I, too, was afraid to face about myself. I’m so tired of pretending I’m someone else when, in reality, no one expects me to be anything other than happy.
As Sheilagh walked out of Megan’s office she turned on her phone and frowned. Nothing.
What was happening? Alec never came to her place last night and he hadn’t returned any of her calls or texts. Who chases someone down then disappears?
She called him and it went to voicemail. “Hey. It’s me. Where are you? I guess you might have taken Wes to the airport, but I don’t know because you aren’t getting back to me…call me. Let me know you’re alive. Love you.”
Everyone was packing up to go home for the summer and she really had nothing to do, which made Alec’s disappearing act all the more annoying. She went home and sorted through her papers from her freshman year, organizing them and tossing away the things there was no point in keeping.
She routinely checked her phone, but Alec didn’t call. At one point she got so lonely, she even knocked on the wall. “Wes?” He was gone.
After she had her stuff packed away she tidied up her apartment. Where was he? She hadn’t even told him she was enrolled for the summer and staying. Didn’t he care? For all he knew, she was leaving that weekend.
Around three she started getting pissed off. She called his phone and hung up when she got his voicemail again. Then everything started to spiral out of control. Her apartment was clean, her books organized, she’d made a list of everything she’d need for her summer courses starting in two weeks, and she sat.
Staring at the television, she considered putting on a movie, but never moved. She sat for probably close to an hour, staring at her phone in her hand. And then the darkness crept in.
Sucking in a deep breath, she stood and forced herself to move. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, she grabbed her bag and left. It was ridiculous that a twenty-four year old woman couldn’t sit alone for a few hours without having a breakdown. And it was even more ridiculous that a forty-year-old man couldn’t answer his damn phone!
She walked into town and stared into store windows. Why wasn’t he calling? She texted him.
What’s going on? Why aren’t you getting back to me? Starting to freak out.
A minute later her phone buzzed and she nearly collapsed with relief when she read Captain Assclown on the screen. She swiped her finger over the menu and frowned.
Not now.
Sharp pain cut off her breathing. Not now? What the fuck did that mean? Not now. Scowling at nothing in particular, she turned and marched her way out of town and toward campus. Not now.
How about screw you?
When she reached the philosophy building she was shaking with a mixture of rage and fear. Was he done with her? How could that be? She told Megan she was going to marry him.
Oh, God… What if Wes said something to him last night after she left? Why was she such a basket case? If she hadn’t been having a breakdown over her brother’s love life mayb
e she could have protected hers.
Her steps doubled as she went to the fourth floor. From the end of the hall she saw his office light shining from his doorway. What if he had another student in there? What if he was hiding from her?
She reached the door, and being her ever unpredictable self, all her anger tucked tail and hid. There was suddenly a fake smile plastered on her face as she knocked and pushed the door open. “Knock knock.”
Her false smile fell when she saw Alec’s surprise and—disappointment?—at her presence. “Ms. McCullough.”
She frowned. “You could answer your phone.”
He swallowed. “Right. As you can see I’m with someone…”
What? She turned. Oh. Crap.
“Dr. Strauss, Dr. Othman, this is Sheilagh McCullough, a psychology major at Princeton.”
Both men gave her a stern, unimpressed appraisal. She fidgeted and backed toward the door. She’d seen the one professor before while visiting Alec a few weeks back. “I see you’re busy, Dr. Devereux. I’ll… come back later. I just wanted to return the notes you gave me.”
The men stood and something in Alec’s expression scared the hell out of her. Who were they? She backed out of the office and shut the door. There was a bench around the corner so she sat there and waited. Footsteps sounded, fading in the other direction, then her phone buzzed.
You can come in now.
Something frightening and cold settled in her stomach. Standing, she slowly walked back to his office. She quietly shut the door. Alec was standing with his back toward her, shuffling papers into a box on the table behind his desk.
“Alec?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night or today. I was in meetings all day and unable to use the phone. I assume your session with Megan went well.”
He wasn’t looking at her. “Who were those men?”
“Colleagues. One is actually a dear friend.”
“Are you mad at me?”
He sighed and braced his palms on the table, still not facing her. “No, Sheilagh, I’m not mad at you. I’m upset with myself.”
“Why? Did something happen? With Wes?”
He laughed without humor. “Wes is long gone by now. He’ll be fine.”
Faking It (McCullough Mountain) Page 20