Let Love Live

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Let Love Live Page 14

by Melissa Collins


  Shane

  I licked the envelope closed, tossed it on Reid’s pillow, and walked across the hall to the bathroom. Everyone was gone. Dad had left for work, but not before creeping in my room, telling me to be here when he got home later. Reid left for school, his face bruised and body haggard. I wasn’t sure where Mom was. At work, I’d assumed.

  It was just me and my failures, my sadness, my nothingness.

  That there was nothing left at all was a harsh reality to face.

  Looking down at the handful of Mom’s sleeping pills, I thought to count them, but there was no point. After swallowing back as many as I could, I leaned against the sink. Thoughts of Dad finding me if I had the courage to run away raced around my already fucked-up head.

  I’d make sure that never happened. I turned the water on in the tub, slipped into the warm bath. Once the drowsy sickness of the pills blurred my vision and made my hands wobbly, I pushed the blade against my skin and let the pain fade away.

  After three days of radio silence, I felt like I had finally cleared my head. I couldn’t stay pissed at Shane forever, and if I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t entirely innocent in this whole mess. I should have let him explain. I should have called him back.

  I threw my stuff together to head home for Thanksgiving, excited to see Shane again, to tell him how sorry I was for shutting him out.

  When I got into my car, I plugged my phone into the charger and turned it on for the first time in days. Lights flashed and bloops sounded out. Fifteen voicemails and twice as many texts.

  The most recent was from Reid. Ice flowed in my veins as I opened the message. Two words stabbed me in the chest.

  He’s gone.

  I couldn’t go there yet. Maybe Reid simply meant that Shane ran away. He’d said as much before we had our fight. That’s what it had to be. I tried to remain calm as I scrolled through the rest of the text messages. There were lots of “I’m sorrys” and “We need to talks” from Shane right after he’d left, but after the second day, his texts stopped.

  I broke in a cold sweat when I saw the next set of messages were only from Reid.

  Where are you?

  Turn your phone on.

  Dylan, come home.

  And then the final one, He’s gone.

  My fingers trembled as I dialed into my voice mail. Most of the messages were the same as the texts. I scrolled down to the longest one, figuring that’s where I’d get the most information.

  Chills raced over my skin when I heard Shane’s sad voice, raspy and dry. “Please believe me. I wasn’t with her. It was all a cover to get my father off my back. I love you. Only you. I want to be with you. Please call me. Please forgive me. Please come back to me. I’m nothing without you.”

  A sickening feeling filled the cabin of my car as I clicked on the last voicemail attached to Shane’s number. “Dylan, I’m sorry I couldn’t be everything you needed, everything you deserved. I love you. I always will. I’m sorry.”

  A loud sob roared from my chest.

  My mind needed the confirmation that my heart already had. I did a quick check of the time stamps on Shane’s voicemails and Reid’s text. The text had come in hours after the final voicemail.

  There was one more voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize. Hope filled my chest. Maybe it wasn’t true, after all. Maybe Shane had run away and Reid only thought he was gone. I clicked on it and listened to the most insidious slew of vehemence I had ever heard in my life.

  Shane’s father.

  “Stay away, you fucking fag. If you show your face around here, around my home, if you for one single second think about showing up at the funeral, just know that I’ll be waiting. I’ll put you in a box right next to him. It’s all your fault he’s there in the first place.”

  I opened the door before the vomit came out. It splattered in a loud, wet sound on the pavement.

  He was gone.

  It was my fault.

  I could have saved him.

  Instead, I shut him out, let him fall to his own fears; let him do the unthinkable.

  I had called him weak, a coward. I had been no better than his father.

  I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. All that came was a bitterness like no other.

  I’d lost the only person I’d ever loved because I was too proud to listen to him.

  So I did the only thing I could think of.

  I got in my car and drove. I drove out into the middle of nowhere, hoping that I could escape the sadness.

  Turned out, it was sitting next to me the whole ride.

  “What the hell, man?” Reid’s smug-ass face is all that greets me as I open the door to my apartment. Running a hand over my face, I shield my eyes from the early morning sun as it glares through the door.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” he snickers, sliding past me, Braden on one hip and a bag of what smells like egg sandwiches in the other.

  “You brought me breakfast. And I didn’t even have to sleep with you to get it,” I joke through my yawn, closing the door. “What time is it, anyway?”

  Reid pulls a face at me over the sleeping with him joke as he puts Braden on the floor, scattering a few toys in front of him. “It’s just after eight.” He pulls breakfast out of the brown paper bag and starts making some coffee in the kitchen.

  I don’t have patience for him right now. Punk just woke me up way before I needed to be, on a Saturday, no less. I don’t know what his problem is, but I’d much rather chill with Braden than listen to Reid toss crap around in my kitchen.

  Clicking on the television, I quickly find Sesame Street. “Hey, little dude.” He barely looks up from the toy car he’s chewing on, but when I hold my fist out in front of him, he bumps it. I pull it back and shake it a few times, pretending that he’s hurt me. “Ow ow. When did you get so strong? Show me those muscles.” Braden laughs at me like the fool I am and grunts as he curls his arms into a body builder’s pose. I pinch his biceps, playing along with our little game. “You rock, man.” Reid steps in behind us, holding a mug of coffee up to his mouth as he blows on it. “You keep it up and you’ll be stronger than Daddy real soon.”

  I ruffle Braden’s hair as I stand and walk over to Reid. After pouring a cup of coffee, I sit at the table and unwrap my breakfast. “So seriously,” I mumble around a bite of food, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” I slide out a chair on the other side of the small bistro table with my foot, inviting him and his mood to take a seat.

  He sits, sips his coffee, unwraps his sandwich, and eats, all without saying a word. I drop my sandwich, and wipe my hands with a napkin as I glare at him. “Look, if it’s about being late to Maddy’s party, I already apologized. I promise to be better, happier, whatever the hell it is you want from me. Could you just say something?”

  He still doesn’t say anything, just looks out the small window enjoying his breakfast and sipping his coffee. “Reid, seriously, what the hell? You come over here, wake me up, give me food, and then don’t say a goddamn thing? Are you pissed or not? I don’t get you.” He’s got me so riled up that I’ve lost my appetite.

  The answer to why he’s here hits me like a ton of bricks. “Wait a second,” a small smile plays across my face as I let the pieces fall in place. “The last time you brought egg sandwiches was because…is she?”

  He shrugs, smirking at me over the rim of his mug. I chuck my wadded up napkin at him across the table. Braden toddles in from the living room and Reid pulls him up onto his lap. “Yeah.” Reid kisses the top of Braden’s head as he tears a small piece of bagel up for him. “We just found out.”

  “That’s fantastic, bro.” I can’t hide my happiness; a huge bubble of excitement fills my chest. Being an only child always meant that I longed for family, longed for a sense of belonging. Now that I’ve made my way back to Reid, the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother, and his family, it’s impossible not to be thrilled over a new edition, even if it’s not my own.

 
Like that day will ever come.

  “It’s still really early and we aren’t telling anyone, but I’m pretty sure that Maddy already told Melanie, so you get to be the first to hear the news, too.” He helps Braden eat a few more bites of his bagel and gives him one of those spill-proof juice cups before setting Braden back down on the floor.

  “See,” his tone changes, and I notice it instantly, “that’s how this whole thing works.” His eyebrows quirk up as he moves a hand between the two of us. “I tell you things. You tell me things. We share stuff. Being a family means more than talking about baseballs stats and work.”

  “So when should I expect our periods to sync up?”

  He shoots me a look and we both laugh aloud. “You can be such a douche, you know that?” he spits out through his laughter.

  “As if you aren’t?” Reid holds up his hands, guilty as charged.

  When the laughter evaporates, seriousness looms in the air. “I’m serious, Dylan. I meant what I said yesterday. I really think you need to talk to someone, or do something to help clear your head.”

  Gazing out the window, I consider his ideas. It’s not as if counseling hasn’t crossed my mind. I’d be a hypocrite if I said that talking to someone about your problems didn’t help. My resistance to the idea of therapy is rooted much more in the very real fact that it would just be too painful.

  I crumple up the wax paper from my breakfast and walk over to the sink, dumping the rest of my coffee. I lean against the countertop, stretching my legs in front me, and crossing my ankles. “I know you’re right. I’ll think about it; I promise.”

  Reid may not believe me, but I mean it.

  Reid cleans up the rest of the stuff from breakfast, and when he stands next to me, he digs his wallet out of his back pocket. “If you’re thinking about slipping me a condom out of there,” I joke, feigning a disgusted look.

  He pulls out a business card and drops it on the counter next to me. “Call her. She’s good.” After washing his coffee mug, he dries his hands, and tosses the towel on the counter. “Now get your ass in gear because we’re heading to the park in ten minutes.”

  I mutter a few choice curses under my breath as I walk past him.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re taking Braden to the park. After years of being away from home, I wasn’t sure where I’d settle down. Reconnecting with Reid made that decision easier. The small town just outside of Elmira, New York, isn’t so small that everyone knows everything about you; I’ve been there before. But, it’s also not so big that I feel like I’m lost in a mass of chaotic nothingness. Up and coming, it’s young and hip, but still very suburban and family oriented.

  There’s a trendy coffee shop and a vintage bookstore, bookended between a boutique-clothing store and a specialty chocolate shop. The cobblestone sidewalks rumble beneath the stroller and Braden makes raspberry noises along the way.

  When we get to the park, Braden leaps out of his stroller and immediately plops himself in the sandbox. Reid and I sit on the bench and watch as Braden tosses sand in their air. “Maddy’s gonna rip into you for letting him get so filthy.”

  “Whatever. I’ll make it up to her.” He winks suggestively at me, hinting at more than I need to know.

  I punch him on the arm. “Keep it in the bedroom, would you?”

  “Speaking of bedrooms…” He lets his half-question hang out there, waiting for me to take the bait. He huffs at me when I don’t. “Tell me what happened with Matt. I thought you guys were doing okay.” Reid digs into the diaper bag and pulls out two bottles of water.

  I crack mine open, gulping down a few large sips as I contemplate what to say. Shrugging, I grumble, “Just didn’t work out.” Dancing around the question is easier than answering it.

  Reid just glares at me, his pissed-off stare speaking volumes, even though no words come out. Right. The whole talking about feelings and shit. After a restless night of sleep, an early morning wake up call, a lecture on how I need mental help, I’m really not up for it. The sun beating on my back seems to just amplify the foul mood I’ve been trying to keep at bay.

  “Was it about Shane?” he asks, calmly.

  Without being able to put a finger on it, something shifts inside of me and I lash out at Reid. “You know, you’re one to be poking and prodding all of a sudden. You ran away, too. Left it all behind because you didn’t want to deal with the pain either.”

  He shifts on the bench, facing me, not at all affected by my anger. “Yeah, I know, but I was a kid. And so were you. But we’re not kids anymore. I’m trying to move on for him.” He tips his chin at Braden who’s digging a hole with another little boy sitting next to him. “I’m trying to be a better man for my family. They deserve that much. So sue me if part of my plan for figuring out my shit also involves helping you figure yours out too.”

  Braden’s cries pull Reid away from our exchange. I watch on as Reid brings Braden over to the swings. Braden’s loud squeals of joy as Reid pushes him higher and higher help calm me down, dissipate my pissed-off mood. I walk over to them.

  “Sorry,” I mutter and Reid nods. I’ve moved beyond being worthy of a verbal response. “Matt wanted more.” Jamming my hands in my pockets, I dig my heels into the woodchips that lay on the ground.

  “More can be good.” He tickles Braden on his sides when the swing retreats, making him giggle all over again.

  “I’m not ready for more. Don’t think I ever will be.”

  Reid turns to face me, letting Braden swing on his own for a few seconds. “No maybe you aren’t and maybe you won’t be, but you’ll never know until you try.”

  He gives Braden a few more pushes, keeps his eyes forward, and says, “Look at what I’d be missing out on if I didn’t try.”

  We don’t talk about Matt, Shane, or anything really for the rest of the time we’re at the park. Before long, we pack up and head back to my apartment. The sidewalks are busier, more people strolling lazily through their Saturday morning. The coffee shop has a few tables set up outside where couples sit and flip through the newspaper.

  That’s what I’m missing out on and I know it. I feel it everywhere, but I know I don’t deserve it.

  Reid elbows me, nearly knocking me into the street. “Look, they’re opening a new gym.” He points down the road where balloons and banners flap in the light breeze. We walk toward it, not entirely sure how we missed it on the way here. “Freaking awesome. It’s one of those MMA training gyms. I used to take classes back in college.” Reid’s face lights up as we stand in front of the new building.

  It looks modern and clean, not like one of those over-the-top and in-your-face places. The façade of the building is sleek – grey and chrome, with masculine black letters above the doorway. Michelson’s.

  We walk inside and a woman who could easily be mistaken for Tinkerbell greets us at the front desk. “Hi. Welcome to Michelson’s.” She extends her hand to us as she hops down from her seat behind the counter.

  She crouches down in front of the stroller. “Hey there, buddy. Aren’t you adorable?”

  She asks if we want a tour as Reid pokes his head into the main space. Before he can answer her, his phone rings. “I gotta take this.” He looks at the screen and then steps back outside.

  It’s pretty much empty inside – all I can see are mats and a few unoccupied machines. “We’re running a special for our grand opening. Maybe you and your,” she pauses, seemingly searching for the right word before her eyes settle on Reid. She hands me a flier, listing all the prices and services. “Maybe you and your friend might be interested.”

  “Thanks,” I glance down at her nametag, “Rachel.” I smile at her, taking the slip of paper from her hand. Reid taps on the front window, giving me the “we need to go” signal.

  I step on the wheel lock of the stroller and turn to leave as someone else walks in.

  A hot someone else.

  Tall. Built.

  Tattoos flirt with the edge of his shirt – his employe
e shirt.

  Maybe joining here might not be a bad idea, after all.

  Relationships and thoughts of more be damned. I could use a little eye-candy in my life.

  “Oh, here.” He takes a step back to the door through which he just walked. “Let me get that for you.” His large frame doesn’t leave much room for me to step past him. I actually have to turn sideways just so I don’t touch him.

  “Thanks,” I say, my voice a bit gruffer than it usually is.

  He smiles at me through the glass as I approach Reid before he turns his back and goes to the counter where Rachel was sitting when we walked in.

  “Everything okay?” I have to actually jog a few steps to catch up to Reid who is a few feet in front of me.

  “Yeah, Maddy’s just really sick this morning.” He looks over at me, a curious look on his face. “You okay?”

  “Me? I’m fine,” I lie, because lying to both him and myself is much easier than admitting how much I want to go back to the gym and see just what Michelson’s has to offer.

  “Oh, here. Let me get that for you.” A father and his son slide out beneath my arm as I walk into the gym. I watch him walk away. He’s fit and trim, very easy on the eyes. Smells good, too.

  Figures. The good-looking ones are always taken, I think to myself as I watch him approach his partner on the sidewalk.

  Stepping into the gym, no, scratch that, my gym, feels like stepping on cloud nine. As I walk inside, the new smell of everything filters in. I really can’t believe this is all mine. Years of hard work and planning are finally paying off.

  Thoughts of all I had to sacrifice, of all that was taken from me, float in the periphery, but I choose to ignore them. No point in dwelling on what can’t be changed.

  Scanning the empty space, I see Rachel clicking away on the computer. Now that the gym is open, all I need are a few customers to get things started. And, you know, make sure I don’t lose all my money in this venture.

  “Hey, Con.” Rachel spins in her desk chair an extra time just for good measure. “So,” she stretches out the word, “what do you think?” She waves her arm though the air, displaying the open gym space.

 

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