by J. Nichole
As I hear the people take the staircase I wonder if Bryan is amongst the footsteps I hear. I selfishly want to see him, I want to wrap my arms around him and comfort him, but from our encounter earlier at the hospital I’ll just give him his space. If he wanted me to comfort him I’d expect he’d come around; he hasn’t been shy about that before.
My curiosity is getting the best of me and I would like to walk around the house and explore. Explore the world that Mr. Clark created and Mrs. Clark cared for all these years. Instead I shut my eyes tight and count the imaginary sheep bouncing around in my head. The living room lights flip on and I hear Laila’s voice, “Hey, are you sleep?”
If she planned on whispering why the hell did she turn on the lights? “No, Laila. I’m wide awake. I can’t sleep here.” I turn on my side and watch her take a seat across from me in an overstuffed love seat. This room looks like it’s hardly been visited, and is probably just a show room. I should have found the couch that everyone sits on, if one exists, to fall asleep. “It feels strange to be here for the first time under these circumstances.”
“I’ve been here before and it still feels strange for me too.” She looks toward the stairs. “Bryan and Chris came home but I don’t think they plan on staying long. I came out of the room to let Chris rest.” She takes a deep breath. “Before he laid down he said it’s not looking good for his dad.”
I gasp. “No, that’s horrible. I couldn’t imagine losing my dad at this age.” I sit up on the couch and stare in the direction of the window where the intricately ordained curtains are closed shut.
“I just can’t imagine how they are feeling right now. In the hospital I was thinking about my mom’s hospital stay and all the emotions came flooding back.” Laila stops and looks at me. “Bryan checked on me.”
I smirk before I realize that wasn’t necessary. “Sorry. But I probably shouldn’t have come here unannounced.” Laila shakes her head. “I don’t think he was excited to see me.”
Laila raises her eyebrows. “Think anyone would be excited in this time?”
“You have a point. I’m tripping.” I grab a decorative pillow from the couch and hold onto it. “This is going to be a difficult time.” Laila nods her head. “How long are you staying?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a couple of days. I talked to my manager and he said I can work from here for a few days.” She picks at her shirt. “But working from here is difficult.”
“I’m sure it is. Especially in the waiting room.”
“What about you?” She crosses her legs in the chair.
Laughing I say, “I had no plan. I told my manager I’d be back in a couple of days.” I scrunch my nose and say, “I wasn’t even really sure how to explain my visit here.”
“Like you’re going to visit a friend’s dad in the hospital. Simple, right?” Laila sounds much more at ease with this situation than I am. I’ve been overthinking every aspect of this visit. Had Bryan and I kept to my normal routine, casual fucking, I wouldn’t be thinking this hard about being here. It would have been no big deal. But now that I’ve given up my bench of prospects and I’m trying to be a one-man woman, everything has come into question. In the past I could give two shits about how a guy was feeling about my actions. Whether he had feelings was not my concern.
Laila looks at me as I contemplate all these thoughts. “Looks like you need a drink, girl.” She stands from her chair reaches for the pillow on my lap throwing it to the side. “Let’s see what the Clarks have available.” Her idea of easing my mind brings a wide grin to my face. I follow closely behind her to the kitchen. She stops walking and looks at me. “Personal space, damn Nicole.”
With my hands in the air I say, “Something about this house makes me nervous.”
“Something or someone?” she teases. I shrug my shoulders and she continues into the kitchen. “This seems like a house that would have a wine cellar or at least a bar.” She looks around the kitchen through a few of the cabinets and says, “Where do you think it would be?”
“What are you looking for,” I hear from behind me. I turn to face Bryan whose eyes are red and his clothes disheveled.
“Was trying to find an adult beverage.” He points to the door and Laila follows his hand. “Ah,” she says from the other room. “Jackpot.” She returns with a decanter of brown liquor. “I think this will do.” She opens the refrigerator and pulls out a couple of cans of soda.
Bryan sits on a barstool at the counter and watches as she pours a couple of glasses of the liquor. He doesn’t speak another word but graciously takes the glass of liquor she offers him. After his first sip he says, “My dad would be disappointed that you added soda to this liquor.”
Laila looks down at the decanter and says, “Not sure I can drink anything without chaser. My pallet isn’t that sophisticated yet.”
I take a sip from my glass, closing my eyes as I let the liquid seep down my throat. When I open my eyes, Bryan is staring at me. “Before we head back to the hospital, let me give you a tour of the house.”
After another sip of my drink I nod my head and follow Bryan out of the kitchen. Walking through the many rooms I stay paces behind him as I admire the decor of the house. “Your mother has done an amazing job decorating.”
Bryan doesn’t respond. He continues walking and describing rooms. Then when we get to his father’s office he takes a seat across from the desk. I walk around the room stopping in front of a wall full of accolades, some recognizing Mr. Clark individually but most recognizing his firm.
“Last time I was home, my dad asked about me leaving the company. Leaving Tennessee. And after explaining my goals for my art it seemed as if he understood.” His head falls and his shoulders heave. When I hear him clear his throat I watch as the tears stream down his face.
I grab him by the shoulders and pull him into a hug. With his head resting against my stomach I rub the top of his head. It’s during these times when words escape me. There isn’t anything that I can verbalize to take his pain away. Unlike Laila, I haven’t experienced my mom or dad being seriously sick. I definitely can’t act like everything is going to be okay, because it’s not and to say so would be foolish.
My shirt scoots up and Bryan’s hands are on my back with his lips on my stomach. His tongue dips into my belly button. I lean closer into him with my hands down the back of his shirt and my lips kissing his neck. This is the language I’m fluent in; the actions may not remove the pain but can ease the stress. At least for now.
As I kneel down into his lap, he pushes my shirt over my head and with a thumb between my nipple and bra, he flicks the fabric aside. I moan as he takes my nipple into his mouth. His hands make their way to my waistband and I feel feather light touches while his teeth tug on my nipples.
He releases my nipple and looks up at me. “I’m sorry,” he rolls his eyes. “I can’t even believe I’m thinking about sexing you right now.” He pulls my shirt down and stands me in front of him.
With my arms still draped over his shoulders I pull him into me again. “Don’t worry about it.” With a kiss to the top of his head I say, “Let’s get out of here.”
Bryan runs up the stairs and I find Laila in the kitchen. “How was the tour?” Laila wriggles her eyebrows. I sigh and put my head back. “Uh oh. Doesn’t seem it was the tour you wanted.” With my head draped down I shake my head. “I don’t think any of us are going to get any sleep here.”
“I think Bryan went up to grab Chris. We can head back to the hospital.” I don’t plan to stay in Tennessee for long, and before I leave I should probably try to get some sleep. “I’ll need to find some place to crash before I drive back to Georgia.”
“Yeah driving back will be much different from me being a passenger on a flight.” Laila walks out of the kitchen and I follow closely behind her. We stand at the bottom of the stairs and I take one last look at the immaculate house in case I’m never back for a visit.
Chris appears at the top of the stairs. “
Y’all ready?” Watching him come down the stairs is like watching a sloth. I look at Laila sideways and she shrugs her shoulders. “We can ride together.” When he reaches the bottom of the stairs he says, “Nicole, when you need your car we’ll bring you back by the house.” He looks between me and Laila. “If that’s cool with you.”
With Chris leading us to the car, Laila and I climb into the backseat. I assume Bryan will be joining us in the passenger seat. Bryan runs from the front door to the car. “David just called and said we need to hurry back.” He climbs into the car and looks at Chris, “Do you need me to drive?” Chris starts the car and shakes his head. We peel off from the driveway and take off to the hospital. My heart begins to race as fast as the car is moving along the winding road. Laila grabs my hand and neither of us speak but I know both of us are praying that we make it in time for the guys to see their dad.
Before Chris can park I lean forward between the front seats. “Don’t worry about parking. You two hop out and we’ll park.”
Between sniffles Laila grabs her purse with a tight grip. “Let’s go before I lose my shit.” None of the Clarks are in the waiting room when we arrive. I take a seat next to Laila and try to keep my leg from bouncing.
My stomach growls. “Think we can head to the cafeteria for something to eat?” Laila nods her head.
“It smells half decent.” I grab a tray and look behind me and realize Laila has stopped walking. “You okay?” She looks across the cafeteria.
“That’s Shelby.” I follow her glance to the lady she was calling Shelby. “She came by to visit Bryan. His ex from college.”
I look down at the clothes I am still wearing from my trip. “Wonder why she’s here.” Or like us she could know his dad may not make it. But who called her? An older woman walks beside her. Maybe her mom?
“Let’s just get some food.” Laila grabs a tray and we walk through the food line. When we sit down Shelby and the older woman walk over to our table on their way out of the cafeteria.
Because we haven’t been introduced I continue eating as Shelby addresses Laila. “Hi. I believe you were here for Mr. Clark also?” Laila nods her head and looks across the table to me. “I’m Shelby, and this is my mother.” She reaches her hand out to shake Laila’s hand.
“Nice to meet you. This is Nicole.” Shelby reaches out for my hand and we also shake.
“We’ll be in the waiting room for a while. My mom was hoping to see Mrs. Clark.”
“We just left from there and none of the family is in the waiting room, yet.” Shelby looks at her mom.
“Okay dear.” Shelby’s mom pats her shoulder. “We’ll just go home for now.” I’m thankful her mom spares us from the awkwardness that would be all of us in the waiting room together. Shelby waves at us and they walk away.
“Could you imagine?” I say once they are no longer in earshot.
“Girl, no. It was awkward enough introducing her to you.” Laila looks down. “I wanted to tell her you were Bryan’s girlfriend but…”
“The words got caught in your throat?” I laugh. “It would have been a lie anyway.”
Laila rolls her eyes at me. We finish eating and head back to the waiting room where we find the brothers sitting. When Bryan looks at me, I inhale. Chris walks to Laila and before he can begin speaking I already know what he’s going to say.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bryan
“Honey,” my mom sits across from me. “You and your brother need to get back to your lives in New York.” Chris and I have been in Tennessee since my dad got sick, stayed to help for the funeral arrangements, and both decided to stay to make sure my mom was okay. Chris has also been helping David get the records in order at the firm.
I look at my mom, who through it all manages to smile, and say, “Are you ready to get us out of here?”
“No, Bryan. It’s been tough but we all need to get back to some sort of normalcy. Unless the two of you plan on moving back in, it’s time to rip off the Band-Aid.”
Despite being back in Tennessee I haven’t taken a break from my art. I’ve actually painted more than I’ve done in a while, escaping to my apartment daily to create a new piece. “You know…”
My mom cuts me off before I can continue. “Boy, before your dad passed he had just become comfortable with the fact that you were going to be an artist.” With her hand reaching out for mine she says, “Go be an artist.”
“But I can be an artist anywhere. Maybe I should come back for a while.” Like everything else in my life, I hadn’t thought out this plan. I’d need to get out of my lease in New York. Move all my stuff back to Tennessee and find a place to exhibit my art, but it all can be done.
“Here you go again, making spur of the moment decisions.” My mom stands walking toward the windows of the kitchen. “I haven’t shared this with anyone yet. But I’ll be selling the house.”
“What?” I jump up out of my seat and walk up behind my mom. “Is that what you want to do? We’ve lived here our entire lives, mom. Why would you want to sell?”
Without looking at me my mom says, “Even before your father passed we had talked about downsizing. He was going to start working less and we had plans to travel the world.” The thought of my dad not getting to retire and live out his last days enjoying life with my mom tugs at my heart.
“And now?”
“I’m going to do it. I’m going to do everything your father promised me before he decided to go have that damn heart attack.” My mom has hardly ever cursed, at least not around us. She turns to look at me. “And I suggest you continue doing what you had planned. If any of us should have learned anything from your father’s death, it’s that life is short and we need to enjoy it. Tomorrow is not promised and although we shouldn’t just make rash decisions, we shouldn’t wait our whole lives to do what we would enjoy.”
I understand exactly what my mom is trying to tell me. “You’re right mom.” I nod my head. “You’re right.”
“And while I’m on my soap box, between my travels it would be nice to come home to some grand-babies.” She looks at me with a wide grin. “That girl who drove all the way from Georgia.” She holds up two fingers. “Twice. Do right by her.”
Smiling I say, “Nicole. I don’t even know if she wants to be with me. And I’ve done a horrible job of showing her I want her lately.”
My mom pats my shoulder. “No time like the present my dear. Tell her you want to be with her. You may not have finished college but you know how to use your words.” I smirk at her low blow about college. “Then show her. Show her that you care about her.”
“Okay mom. Seems like you are handling this situation much better than I am, obviously.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Bryan, it’s hard. Each day will be a new challenge. Each milestone without your father will be tough. But if I live life as if I died that day, what would be the point of living?”
She walks away from me but before leaving the kitchen she looks back at me and says, “So you and Chris need to have your stuff all packed up and ready to go soon. The house will be on the market next week.” She leaves the kitchen and I feel better about leaving my mom, but now I don’t know what’s next.
I walk to my room to do as my mom says and pack my shit up. I find my phone to call Nicole. She should be at work but I don’t want to wait till she’s off to let her know how I feel. Like my mom said, there’s no time like the present.
“Hello.”
“Hey, are you busy?”
“Not too much, just heading out of a meeting about to leave for the day.” My bravery has subsided and she says, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I mean I’ve been out of touch with you for weeks.”
“Bryan.”
“Wait, I know it’s been a lot going on. And first, let me thank you. You didn’t have to come to Tennessee, let alone twice. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. That’s what, that’s what friends do.”
; “Friends?” I was hoping we could be more than that. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay.”
“Would you be willing to…” When I consider asking her to be my girl over the phone after weeks of not talking to her I feel lame. “Could we try for more than friends?”
“I’m still in Georgia.” She sighs. “And you’re. You’re not.”
Before I commit to moving to Georgia without thinking about it I close my mouth. My mom is right, I make rash decisions before thinking them through. Instead, I ask if we can at least try.
“I’m willing to try.” She laughs. “Besides my bench is empty and was starting to get a little cold.” I laugh knowing how difficult that’s probably been with me avoiding her for weeks. “Call me later?”
“Sure will.” I finish grabbing my clothes that have been scattered around my room since I’ve been home. I’ve moved most of my childhood things out of my room over the years since leaving the house, but I do another check of my room. I can’t believe when I leave this time it could be the last. But I understand my mom needing to leave. I haven’t been able to enter my dad’s office since the funeral. I’m sure, for my mom, it’s the same experience with most of the house.
“Yo, you packing up?” Chris plops onto my bed. “When are you leaving?”
“I haven’t decided yet. But Mom gave me the ‘you ain’t gotta go home, but you gotta get the hell outta here’ speech today.”
Chris squints. “She did?” I nod my head. I’m hesitant to fill him in on the rest of our discussion. “Guess I better get my shit together before she has to give me the same speech.” Chris laughs. “I thought we’d need to stick around longer to make sure Ma was okay.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” I sit across from Chris at my desk. “She’s definitely doing better than I am with all of this.”
“Maybe we can catch the same flight back?” I haven’t decided where I’m going yet. After my mom schooled me about my outlook on a relationship I may reconsider New York. But for now, I need to get back and plan an exhibit before I’m broke.