“Rumor has it you’re in town,” Jason begins without any other greeting. “To what do we owe the honor? And why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have called Deena to stock the kitchen and air the place out.”
“Because I didn’t realize I was going to be out here until about three hours before I pulled into the driveway.”And because I didn’t want you sitting on my doorstep with a welcoming party.
“Well, now that I know it’s true, I’ll be there in an hour,” he informs me, hanging up before I can protest.
In my haste to return to my pity party, I forgot to call him this morning and now I’ll have no choice but to face the good doctor. Jason means well, but I’ve pulled away from him over the years because he pushed too hard for me to talk about what happened that day on the water. Knowing him, he probably psycho-analyzed me and based a term paper on the effects of post-traumatic stress. I know I thought about using myself as a research subject a few times, but decided against it because it’d be too painful to revisit that part of my life.
Just you. I know you’ll still show up even if I tell you to give me the space I came up here to find, but please don’t bring Deena with you.
Hopefully my quick text response will be enough for him to realize that I’m not in the mood for company.
“What, no welcome home kisses for me?” Jason teases when he walks through the door exactly fifty-nine minutes later. He bumps the door closed with his hip before setting a mountain of grocery bags on the faux-woodgrain laminate counter.
“What’s all that?” I ask, pointing at what appears to be enough food to feed a family of four for a week or two.
“Just the staples,” Jason assures me. He pushes past me to begin loading food into the cupboards and the refrigerator. “How long are you up here for?”
Originally, I thought I’d be here for the night and head back to face reality, but now that the desolation is easing its grip on my heart, I’m beginning to feel like I’m home. There will likely never be a day when being here doesn’t remind me of Brandon, but with nothing more than a knowing smile and a six-pack of microbrew, Jason’s made me see just how far I have come. I’m no longer the eighteen and nineteen year old boy mourning the loss of his first love; I’m now a thirty-four year old man remembering the boy who taught him that it’s okay to love.
Love? Where did that come from? You, Dominic Tricoli, are delusional if you’re already thinking about falling in love with him. He’ll leave you, too. The difference is youknowthat Tony’s not going to be around for long.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Jason asks, cracking open the tops on two bottles of beer. The clock on the wall says it’s only eleven-thirty, but I figure drinking might be the best way to get out of my head for a little while.
“Nowhere,” I lie, taking a long draw of my beer. “If you’re going to go all shrinky on me, you might want to head back into town because I’m not in the mood for it. Not today.”
There’s a gray mist hanging over the choppy waters; it’s a view so different from the one I remember when Brandon and I shared breakfast at this table, but it seems to fit the mood. Every day with Brandon was filled with sunshine and vivid oranges, pinks, and blues reflecting off the water. I can feel Jason watching me as I stare into the distance, wondering what Brandon would say to me if he were here.
Within these walls, both of us were free to live our lives openly and honestly. There was no need to hide or be afraid because anyone who crossed the threshold was trusted with our secrets and our demons. Thinking back on the fear in Tony’s eyes yesterday as he realized that he was going to have a man he’d been intimate with in the same room as his entire family, I wish Tony was able to know the peace that Brandon felt for the short time we were here together.
“No need to get all defensive on me,” Jason chastises. “All I did was ask what you were thinking about. You didn’t hear a single word I said for over a minute. But now that you brought it up, I’ll admit that I am worried about you.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine. Better than fine if we can just kick back and relax for a while.” I look around the kitchen, and I realize how stupid it is that I’m holding onto garish rooster wallpaper. If Brandon was here, I have no doubt he’d tell me it’s time to take the cocks off the walls. I’m beginning to see more clearly just how much of my life is stuck in the past, and I need to catch up to the world around me.
Jason runs out to his car, returning with a bottle of Malibu. It’s too sweet and I can’t stand the taste of coconut, but it’s become a bit of a tradition since the summer we met. When you’re eighteen and raiding whatever alcohol you can get your hands on, you can’t afford to be picky. Jason and Deena’s mom was more like a really cool big sister most of the time and she turned a blind eye to the fact that she never got more than one or two drinks out of each bottle. In retrospect, I think she got a kick out of making us drink the tropical, fruity liquid.
“Do you remember the time Deena dared Brandon to go drink for drink with her and he almost fell into the fire?” I ask as Jason pours each of us a drink. He stands there, stunned by the fact that Brandon’s name not only crossed my lips, but that I have the slightest hint of a smile on my face. “What’s that look for?”
“You’ve spent the past fifteen years avoiding talking to me about him. Maybe moving to Phoenix has been good for you.” His praise only sounds mildly condescending.
He sits down across the table from me and we keep talking. Every time I start thinking aboutthat dayJason steers the conversation back to happier memories. My heart skips a beat when I hear the front door open and immediately drops into my shoes when I realize it’s only Deena. I should have known better than to think Jason wouldn’t have told her to come out after work. Her arms are loaded with pizza, wings, and even more beer. On the other hand, who else would it have been?
“You guys can keep drinking that fruity shit if you want, but I outgrew it right about the time we turned twenty-one,” she teases when I try to hand her a drink. Deena pulls plates out of the cupboards and disappears into the living room after instructing us to load up because it’s going to be a late night.
“Dom, your phone’s buzzing in here,” Deena yells from the other room. She hands it to me when I walk into the room, announcing that I must be Mr. Popularity because I have so many missed calls and texts. I shove the phone into the cushion next to me so I don’t have to think about how pissed off Andrew probably is right now. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Not really. Just a series of stupid coincidences biting me in the ass,” I blurt out, clamping my hand over my mouth. Now that Deena’s been given a tiny nibble of gossip, she won’t quit. It’s why I didn’t want her here in the first place.
“Okay, spill it.” I’m given a brief reprieve as she spreads a blanket out in front of the hearth and lights a fire. “It’s too damn cold for a bonfire, but you’re always willing to talk when we get your drunk enough that you’re mesmerized by the flames.”
As I move to the floor, I can hear my grandmother’s words reverberating in my mind.You can’t create a future if you’re being held captive by your past. We all have pain, it’s how we manage the pain that determines whether we thrive or wither.I’ve been lying to myself for so long, I’ve forgotten how to live. Whether conscious or not, the ghost has made too many decisions in my life. I love my job, but being here in my heart’s home, I realize I gave a dead man the power to move me across the country to fulfill a dream he shared in almost this exact spot one rainy night.
Andrew teases me, saying that I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I couldn’t get an adrenaline high. He has no clue that I became addicted to that feeling during a time when the rush of endorphins was the only thing that could make me forget about the pain of loss for a little while. Everything I did was to feel closer to Brandon, strengthening the invisible tether between us.
Over time, the tears stopped, but I was so used to finding the next high that I couldn’t think about stopping. Rock climbing became my favorite pastime because I felt so close to the heavens when I was sitting on the edge of a cliff. There was even a time when I considered parasailing so I could feel like I was flying through the heavens with Brandon, but I couldn’t do it because that would have meant overcoming my fear of being on the water. The day Brandon died was the last time I did anything more than wade into the waves.
“Come here, Dom,” Deena coos, opening her arms to me. I look at her and her brother; their worried eyes the only thing identical about the twin siblings. Neither of them urges me to talk as I stare into the flames. Her nimble fingers swipe away tears that I didn’t realize were falling. Deena rocks me gently, whispering that they’re here for me whenever I’m ready. But they’re not who I need this time.
I miss the feel of Tony’s strong arms wrapped around me as he sends text messages to Kennedy, sharing way too much information about what we did after the reception. I want to wake up knowing that his face will be the one I see when I roll over. There will always be a part of me that misses Brandon, but I want Tony to be the one to help me heal. I try to convince myself that it’s not Tony that I need, just someone to share time with, but I’m lying to myself. He’s the one I see.
