I turn to Brooks. “Do you mind giving us a minute, babe?”
“Sure…” Brooks says hesitantly. “I’ll be nearby if you need me.”
I nod. “I’ll be fine.”
Once Brooks is back over with Mum, I spin to Gordy. “Did your dad abuse you?”
Gordy’s face goes ashen. He looks like he’s going to be sick. “More than that,” he barely manages to choke out the words. “I was just a fucking kid…” he adds, vaguely, as a single tear rolls down his cheek.
Suddenly, Gordy looks like he’s about to pass out. I guide him over to one of the lawn chairs and sit him down in it. “Gordy, fuck, hold on. Let me get you a water or something.”
“No,” he croaks. “I-I need to get this out to y-you. S-so you know…”
“You don’t need to tell me anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”
More like I’m getting way too uncomfortable with whatever it is he has to tell me.
Whatever it is, it’s bad…
He shakes his head. “I-It d-doesn’t ex-cuse what I did to you. It m-makes it w-worse. I’m s-so fucking sorry,” he barely gets to whisper that out, between panic-stricken breathing. “He never told you…”
Whonever told me, and what the hell am I missing here?
I haven’t seen him look this sick and worked up since we were back at our own summer camp experience. The year I met him, and the yearI stupidly acted on a crush I had on him… and I made what I thought was an innocuous move on him. The way he freaked out on me then is so similar to how he’s freaking out on me now—
Oh… my… fucking… god. No. No, fuckno. I myself suddenly feel like I could throw up. What the hell have I done? What the hell did I do then? Fuck, I am such an idiot!
Gordy hasn’t said the words out loud, but the insinuation is goddamned crystal clear.
If Marlin Masterson wasn’t already dead in the ground, I’d fuckin’ kill him right now. Seeing his grown son here nearly having a panic attack—trying to apologize to me, when he so obviously had more going on beneath the surface—is gutting me. His face is blank, and he’s hugging himself, rocking back and forth on the chair. He’s mumbling nonsense now, cowering as if he expects me to attack, looming over him the way I am.
“Fuck, Gordy…” I get down on his level to try to calm him down. “Breathe, Gordy. It’s okay, he can’t hurt you here.”
I’m shell-shocked. I don’t know what to do, or how to react to this. Talking Brooks through a panic attack is one thing, but this is on a whole other level. Not to mention, I have my own complex baggage built into Gordy’s own obvious traumatic experience, and I’m the one that just triggered this.
Fuck. Fuck!
The terror I see in his eyes as he clutches his chest, gasping, isn’t something that can be faked to divert attention from his actions. He’s going through something horrifying in his mind right now. I need to try to get him out of that place, buthow?
“Gordy?” I try to get through to him without touching him, because I don’t want to spook him any more than he already is. “Gordy, listen to me. If you can hear me, I’m going to get you help.”
Brooks, spotting trouble, comes rushing over. “Can you call an ambulance?” I hastily ask him. “Gordy’s having a panic attack, or a flashback, I can’t tell. He’s had trauma. I think I just spooked him bad.”
“I’ll sit with him,” Brooks tells me. “You make the call. You know the address here. I’ll stay with him. I got this.”
I nod, and take off to go get help. After that, I fill in my parents on just the essentials—Gordy’s having a medical event and needs an ambulance—because it’s not my place to give up information I don’t think he’s told anyone else before. Then, I ask them to tell everyone to give us space and privacy. Gannett fills me in that this is Trista-Lynn’s weekend to have Taryn, so he’s not going to be at home wondering where his dad is.
When I get back, Brooks has got Gordy down on the ground with him, holding Gordy and gently rocking him as he uses the same grounding techniques I used on him a couple weeks ago. “Good. We’re going to get you an ambulance here, okay?”
Gordy nods. “Th-anks.”
“You’re gonna be alright. I know it’s hard bringing up the past, but I’m proud of you for doing it,” he soothes. “Takes courage to apologize the way you did. You’re brave. You’re going to continue to be brave. I know you’ve held onto this for a long time. It’s good to get it out. Okay?”
I am so damn glad that Brooks came to the rescue here. I don’t know what Gordy told him while I was making the call, if anything at all. But all that doesn’t matter, Brooks is comforting him nonetheless. Cradling him gently, soothing him with his positive affirmations.
He’s so genuinely good at what he does. I don’t know how else he would have gotten Gordy to calm down as much as he hasalready—like he’s known him for years, even though they just met minutes ago.
Gordy sucks air in through his nose, then purses his lips and exhales, shuddering. “Evan- y-you have e-every r-right to be m-mad,” he croaks disjointedly. “Didn’t… mean… for this… I always fuck up…”
