When there was silence, Jayne sighed yet again. “No one is going to come to their senses, are they?”
“No,” Harlow admitted, the guilty inflection of his voice repentant. “I’m sorry.”
Jayne shook his head. “I don’t know why I expected anything different. It’s not like anyone ever listens to me, anyway.”
“So she can stay?” Shep asked cautiously. Simon caught Evie flashing him an excited smile, and in light of it, he looked to Harlow. Although Harlow had moved to talk to Jayne, he had his sights set on Evie, a hint of a smile on his face. It shone with love. “You’re not going to kick her out?”
“No.” Jayne’s voice was bitter. “But if there is any more trouble—anything at all—I won’t hesitate to get Fulch involved. Is that understood?”
Harlow glanced at Simon, and when their eyes met, his smile brightened. Simon’s heart did flighty, desperate things in an attempt to regulate its rhythm, and heat burned all the way from his cheeks to his toes.
“Understood,” Harlow said.
“Gotcha,” Evie confirmed.
“I’ll go run my laundry down to the machines,” Shep volunteered. “I figure maybe if we put the basket in the closet, then Evie can have room for her luggage, and we can share the room so—”
“Absolutely not,” Harlow and Jayne said at the same time. They looked at each other. Simon saw Jayne scowl.
At least, if only momentarily, they’d managed to see eye to eye.
“I’ll change the sheets on my bed and give my bedroom to Evie,” Simon volunteered. “I’m the only one who doesn’t have to leave the house to go to school or work, so it makes the most sense if I give up my space.”
Evie turned her sunny smile on him, her eyes alive with delight. “You’d really do that for me?”
“Well, um, yeah…” Simon’s smile wobbled. When put next to Warwick radiance, he felt like a dull bulb about to flicker out. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Most nights he falls asleep on the couch while on his computer, anyway,” Shep volunteered, grinning ear to ear. Simon couldn’t be mad—it had been ages since Shep had been so truly happy. Piece by piece, they were pulling their family back together, even as it threatened to fall apart. “He’ll be okay. Plus, he keeps his room really neat, so you don’t have to worry about feeling claustrophobic or buried in clutter. And his bed is nicer than mine.”
Adoration sparkled in Evie’s eyes, and she smiled at Shep like he was her world. Teenage love, unencumbered by fear, lived in every word they spoke and every look they shared. It humbled Simon. The brother he thought he knew wasn’t the same young man who stood before him now. There were facets of Shep he didn’t know—perhaps that he’d never know. It was valuable to remember it.
He glanced to Harlow, to his sunny smile and sculpted form.
Very valuable.
A high-pitched wail broke the moment. The remnants of Jayne’s angry expression shattered.
“Parker needs me,” Jayne said. “I’m going to spend some time with him, come down from everything that just happened, then go out, because fuck if I don’t need mindless distraction right now. Simon, are you equipped to make sure ourguestsare settled?”
“Um, yeah. Shouldn’t, um, be a problem.” Anxiety knotted behind Simon’s sternum. How was he going to entertain both Harlow and Evie? As shy and reclusive as he was, it was a task too monumental not to stress out over. “We’ll just… just get the sleeping arrangements set up and take it from there.”
“And make sure you clean the blood off your face,” Jayne advised. “You’re going to want to use a saline solution. I’d recommend you dab at it unless it’s a part of your face that isn’t hurting too badly. You’ll probably want to irrigate your nasal cavity to knock out some of the nastiness in there. Use one of the syringes under the sink and more saline solution to do it. Donotuse hydrogen peroxide, for the love of god. Pat dry. If you’re still bleeding, or if you feel like something else has gone wrong, Mr. 18D should be able to help if you show him our medicine cabinet.”
“I’d be happy to help,” Harlow confirmed. “I really am sorry about breaking your nose. I assumed I was walking into an entirely different situation.”
“It’s okay,” Simon mumbled, smiling. “It, um, it’ll add character and… and I can tell, you know, people or… whatever… that a SEAL broke my nose if it heals crooked. Kind of cool, right?”
“How’d you know Dad was a SEAL?” Evie asked.
Shep smirked and winked at her.
Simon wanted nothing more than to atomize on the spot.
“Questions for another day,” Jayne declared. He waved his hands dismissively. “All of you, disperse.”
Dispersal happened. Shep and Evie went to settle on the couch, Harlow excused himself to the bathroom, Jayne went to care for Parker, and Simon whisked himself into the sanctity of his bedroom under the pretext of stripping his sheets. It was the truth, even if a large part of what he was up to was omitted.
What he really wanted to do was shed every pent-up emotion trapped behind his ribcage.
Terror. Anguish. Hope. Admiration. Bitterness. Irritation. Adoration. Lust. None of them conceded to the other, and the writhing mass shifted and squirmed until at last it burst. Simon’s throat tightened, convulsed, struggled against the breach. Then, as those emotions poured through him in choked, rasped gasps and startled, shallow pants, he did something he hadn’t been able to do since his parents had died—he cried.
Tears met dried, flaking blood. Copper and salt perfumed the air. Simon sank against the door and wept.
For the first time in three years, he was able to cry—and it was as liberating, and limiting, and horrible, and wonderful as Simon had always hoped it would be.
