What is this?
I take the paper from him and unfold it to see what is clearly a man’s handwriting—Jason’s handwriting.
He wrote me a letter?I thought he doesn’t communicate with anyone. Not even like this.
Dear Mara,
Fuck, this feels weird. I haven’t written in years. But you asked me to try. So I am.
First off, I want to apologize for last night, for almost hitting you and for losing my temper. Last night, I morphed into a version of my father, the man I’ve hated for so fucking long. I didn’t even realize I was becoming him until last night and that’s not who I want to be. That’s not who my mom raised. I’ve been angry for so long and I don’t want to be. I’m trying. I’m trying for you.
Secondly, I’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t talk to me. I’m sorry you had to hold so much in for so long. I wish I could change so much about our story but I can’t. I wish you and I had had a better start. And that you’d had a better life. You don’t have to tell me what led to you driving to the bridge. It’s none of my business. I want to be here for you if you need to talk about it. I want to be more for you. I want to be enough. I know there’s so many obstacles and my speech issue doesn’t help. But I hope you can accept it for what it is.
Lastly, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad we got a second chance. I didn’t realize how much I needed you until now. You were right, last night, we are more than just casual. We’re more, Mara. We’re more.
Sincerely,
Jason
PS Sincerely sounds weird. Scratch that.
I giggle at the post script. I can’t believe my eyes. I can’t believe hewrotetome. I have no idea what his voice sounds like but in a way he’s showing me. His voice doesn’t have sound but it has meaning. It has character.
I look back up at Jason and the worry etched into his features. I’ve never seen him look so helpless. I eliminate the space between us in two quick steps and wrap my arms around him, hands clasped behind his neck. Our lips come together in a searing kiss that binds us together.
“Jason,” I utter as I stroke one hand through his hair. His arms band around me as he nestles his face in my neck and breathes like I’m a life force he thrives on.
“Thank you.” I have no other words for this gesture because I know it must have been hard for him. He’s trying. It’s not perfect but it’s a huge step in the right direction. The fact that he acknowledged our relationship means the world to me.
We’re more.
Those words will be branded on my soul for eternity.
While the roast is in the oven, I set to work trimming the boys’ hair. I think they just agreed to it because we’re all so bored. Cabin fever is a real thing and we are seeking anything new to entertain ourselves with.
It’s clear Jason’s last haircut was quite a while ago, longer than Dylan’s based on the length of his hair.
As far as tools go, I have a pair of scissors and clippers with only the two, four, and seven length attachments. Looks like I’ll be getting creative.
Dragging one of the dining chairs into the center of the kitchen I ask my willing victims, “Ok, who wants to go first?”
The two brothers exchange worried glances before Dylan makes an executive decision. Waving a hand as if he’s presenting a grand gift to his brother, Dylan declares, “She’s your girl, you get to be the guinea pig.”
Jason rolls his eyes then takes the chair like a man, unafraid and confident. But that doesn’t stop Dylan from asking, “Have you ever cut hair before?”
“A couple times in college,” I answer while assessing Jason’s hair, running my fingers through the long strands fully knowing what that does to him. Maybe I’m being a little devious. “Some of the guys in my hall neededhaircuts but starving college students don’t really want to pay for haircuts. So I was nominated to give it a try. I watched a few YouTube videos and did a pretty good job if I do say so myself.”
I start to wet Jason’s hair by dipping my hand in a bowl of water since I’m lacking a spray bottle.
“I’m going to be honest,” I lean over Jason’s shoulder, “I like your hair a little longer. But it seems a little hard for you to manage. How about I just give it a trim?“
He smirks up at me. He knowsexactlyhow much I like his hair. Then nods in agreement so I take the scissors in hand and start trimming off an inch or so, shaping it a little bit better so when it’s down it looks less like a mop. Less unintentional and more like he styled it that way on purpose.
“When was the last time you had a haircut?” I ask Jason. His hair was more like Dylan’s length in high school.
He holds two fingers in the air in a peace sign which confuses me, at first I think he means two months which isn’t accurate since we’ve been stuck at the cabin since November. Then I realize, “Two years?” He nods. “So this sexy hipster man bun thing wasn’t to look like a lumberjack, just pure neglect.” I can’t help the laugh bubbling out of me. Only Jason Alder would look sexier when he neglects his appearance.
“What about you, Dylan?”
