by Shelly Crane
Maya and I had become that gross, disgusting couple people didn't want to invite out to dinner because they couldn't keep their hands off each other long enough to make it through a course.
Man, did I love that.
Just about every night I was at Maya and Will's, she was at mine, or we went out for dinner and a movie or something. We went to an NA meeting every week and sat through every one of them together. Will seemed to perk up the past week, too. He seemed relieved that I knew about his illness. He was strange that way. Most people with an illness didn't want you to know, but him—he wanted you to know and just get everything out in the open. We wound up becoming pretty good friends, and I even took him to the doctor once for Maya, who had run out of sick days.
Of course she was going to take it off anyway, but I insisted, and Will insisted even more than I did. It was a long drive into the city to the Cancer Treatment Center—about three hours. He said, and I quote, that riding with his nail-biting sister was like pulling out his hair one by one because she was just so worried the whole time. Will and me? We got greasy burgers, and we jammed to The Black Keys the whole way. I didn't go into the doctor's office or caner wing of the hospital with him, but I sat in the waiting room. It was pretty uncomfortable, and it made me feel bad for Mason having done this for Mamma so many times and I hadn't been there for any of it.
Will and I didn't talk about what the doctor said. I figured if he wanted me to know, he would have said. He didn't, so I didn't. He fell asleep halfway home, and I was forced to think about my own brother. I felt guilt pile on me in a way I hadn't in weeks. I was doing something like this for someone else's brother and not my own.
When we got home that night, I don't know how she knew about the junk food and loud music and the pit stop to the smoke-filled arcade, but she knew. It was the first time I got chewed out Maya style. Will took it like a champ because obviously he was no mere novice of the inner workings of his sister's psyche.
I, on the other hand, saw the tirade as a ticket to the crazy train and used that term to describe the fight. Yeah, I said "crazy". That only escalated things to nuclear levels, to which I was saved by Will, who hugged his sister to him and with three words reduced her to a sobbing mess.
I'm still here.
It hit me, like a ton of idiotic bricks. But before I could apologize, she was apologizing to me, and before I knew it, when we were doing more than that.
The make up make out was worth the fight, believe me.
A few days after that, I was getting ready for dinner out with Maya and her brother. He said he felt like the squeaky third wheel, but I knew she worried about him. He rarely ever left the house, so we were taking him to a new restaurant in town that boasted the best breakfast for dinner food you can find. So we were going to sample to whole-grain pancakes. Maya said it was the best of both worlds. She still felt like Will was eating well and healthy but eating bad at the same time. He just shook his head and didn't argue.
I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard Maya talking to someone in my living room. I didn't even know she'd gotten there yet. With my towel wrapped around my hips, I peeked out my door and gave her a small wave. She was on the phone, but she gave me an uneasy look.
She was on my phone.
"Sorry. Here he is. He just got out." She handed it to me and looked at the floor. "I'm really sorry. It rang and it's habit to answer Will's all the time. I'm…sorry."
I gave her a funny look. "It's all right." She looked at my chest and I realized I was only in a towel. Her eyes drifted lower and closed.
I took the phone. "Hello?"
"Milo?"
"Mason?" I said in surprise. I hadn't heard his voice in so long…it sounded so foreign yet so familiar.
"You said to call when she was having the baby, and she's having the baby. She went into labor about an hour ago. I don't know where you are, but…if you left now, you might make it before he's born."
I looked into Maya's eyes that were now open and searching mine. I didn't know why I did. I hadn't even told her about my family or anything and she hadn't pushed me to. I thought she might make me feel guilty about her spilling all her guts and me having yet to spill mine, but she didn't. And now, she searched for clues as to whether or not I was going to slam the door closed. Now that the opportunity was knocking, was I going to slam it in her face like I'd done before, or face it?
"Milo?" he asked again, defeat in his voice. He thought I was bailing, too.
"We're on our way," I told him, my eyes on hers—always on hers.
"I don't know who she is," he said quietly, "but, man, I like her."
"Yeah, I kinda like her, too." I hung up and took a step closer to her. "Call Will and tell him our date is cancelled. You and I are going to meet my nephew."
"You're not angry with me?"
"Why would I be?"
"For answering your phone," she whispered. "I know you don't want…"
"No," I whispered back. "I'm not angry."
"I thought you didn't want me to know them," she confessed.
"I didn't want you to know the old me."
She swallowed and put her hand on my chest. "You really want to take me with you? To meet your family?" She looked up, her eyes burning into mine. "You can do it alone if you have to."
"You don't want to come?" My heart ached at the thought of that.
"I do. A lot. I just don't want you to feel like I'll hate you if you don't bring me. It's a big step. It's been years, right?" I nodded. Long, hurtful, stupid years. "I won't. I'll be right here for you either way."
"I want you to come with me," I insisted and pulled her to me, my arm hooked around her hip. "Can I ask one thing, though?"
"Anything."
"Can we wait until this is over before I explain anything to you? Because I want you to fall in love with them before I tell you and you hate me. That way you won't leave me."
She palmed my cheek, taking a deep breath before blowing her peppermint breath against my lips. "I won't leave."
"Please. Don't ask me anything until we get back, okay?"
"I won't push either."
"I know," I said, and knew it for truth. I pressed my lips against her cheek. "And I love that about you."
She sucked in a quick breath. I moved, searching for her lips until I found them. Her cool hands on my warm-from-the-shower bare skin had my own hands gripping her to me tighter with the amazing feel of it. Her mouth opened under mine as I pushed her against the back of the couch. One of her legs lifted a little as her butt took the hit. "I would love to let you violate me as long as you wanted to," I said against her lips, "but I think babies probably don't wait."
"I think you have this backward, mister." She giggled at her joke. Good night, it was adorable. "You're going to meet your nephew!" she squealed happily. "You're an uncle. Oh, my gosh. That's the hottest thing," she breathed.
"Really?" I asked, really, really intrigued.
"Babies make a man…" She shook her head. "That's it. Babies make a man a man."
I chuckled. "Uncles aren't really classified as men. We're supposed to be silly and throw the kids around, get them in trouble, and pump them with sugar before we take them home."
"Yep," she agreed with a small smile.
"You are pretty confusing right now, woman."
She laughed and pushed my chest, turned me, and slapped my butt. "I'll call Will and get Marybeth to babysit him. Get dressed, uncle."
I was more nervous now than I had been on the ride over to see Mom weeks ago. I was irritated, agitated, anxious, and though I knew I was being a jerk, Maya trying to make me feel better every five minutes was making me feel worse.
I knew when all this was over and we were on the other side of this thing that I wasn't going to have Maya any longer. I just knew it. It almost felt like I should just piss her off now so it would be easier to walk away when she left me later.
The more we drove, the more nervous I got. The farthe
r we got, the harder I gripped the steering wheel.
"Milo, it'll be okay."
I gritted my teeth. "Just stop, Maya."
"I don't understand. You seemed so excited before and now…"
"Now, what?" I looked at her in the dark of the car and back to the dark road. "Now I'm just understanding better that I was naïve to think that a baby was going to make everything better. I can't just walk in there after all this time and expect them to just open their arms."
"They want you there," she insisted harder. "He called you." She covered my angry thumping fingers on the steering wheel. "Let me drive."
"I can drive. I’m fine."
"Milo, you're not fine. Just let me drive so you can relax and think."
"Good night, Maya," I growled angrily. She sat back, her face tight. "I said I'm fine. Just stop already." I sighed and looked back at the road. "It's been a long time, and you have no idea what I've done. I don't think it's too much of a stretch to be a little apprehensive about seeing my brother that I haven't seen in years!" I was yelling. Yelling, like a freaking ass. "I was awful to him. He tried to save me over and over and over and all I did was spit in his face and yet, he still tried to save me. He took care of me when we were kids when my dad left. He takes care of my mom and his wife, and now he's having a baby. A baby." I shook my head, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight it hurt. "So don't make out like I have no right to be upset."
I was doing it again. I was letting my bubbling anger at myself turn me into the person who turned and ran when he faced down his past. I couldn't seem to stop.
"Milo, I know it's hard—"
"This isn't some boo-boo to kiss better."
"I'm not saying it is. I've been there." I felt her hand on my arm. "It's hard to believe they'll forgive you."
"Maybe I don't want him to," I yelled. My voice bounced against the glass so hard it hurt my ears. I felt bad. I felt so bad, but I couldn't stop. "I certainly don't deserve it."
"That's not for you to decide. You do what needs to be done, try your best to make up for what you've done, move on, and work hard every day to go forward, not fall back."
"That all sounds a little easier said than done."
"It is."
I scoffed. "Do you hear yourself? This is an awful pep talk."
"I'm not going to sugarcoat things for you because that's not going to help you in the end. I'm not going to tell you things are going to be easy when they aren't. You need to know that things are always going to be hard," she said loudly to the side of my face. I hadn't looked over at her in a long time. I was being such a coward. Her fingers dug into my arm harder. "But family can make it easier."
I scoffed again. "Wow. No, they don't."
She yelled as she continued. "And the fact that you have family, and are considering not reconciling with them at all because you're a coward makes my sympathy for you plummet." I gulped, understanding her anger coming at me from all sides. She had one family member left to her name, and he was about to taken from her, too. But…how did family make addiction and crap like that easier? How did they make me not want to get high? That made no sense.
"Just stop, okay? Just stop. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Maya, I'm sorry you think I'm being selfish. Or childish, or naïve, whatever it is that you think about me right now, but every person is different and handles things differently. I'm not sure I'm ready to…ready to…" What the hell was the matter with me? "Ready to stop hating him. Ready to stop hating myself."
I took a courageous breath and turned to look at her. She was staring patiently at me, not smiling, not frowning, just being there, just like she said she would be. She'd been here herself, done this, walked people through this. I gently knocked my fist on the wheel a few times.
I would not do this to her right now. And more importantly, I was not going to do this to myself again.
I was done running.
I looked behind me and pulled off the highway into a gas station. Under the awning, I put the car in park and sighed, leaving the Jeep running as I leaned my head back on the seat. "Damn it," I growled, "why does this have to be so hard?"
She leaned over and put her hand on my cheek, pulling my face to look at her as she leaned over. The black hair fell across her shoulder, and she looked like my own personal raven-haired angel right then.
"Milo, I wish I could tell you that it wasn't and that it was all going to be okay. That you'd never want to get buzzed or drink again, that you'd never want to run, scream, or… But that's just not true. It's painful and it's our burden to bear, but we don't have to do it alone."
I looked at her. Just looked at her. She was still there, and I couldn't believe it. Why? After all the awful, stupid things I said. Why would she even want to be there?
I met her in the middle of the console and took her face in my hands, pressing my forehead to hers. She closed her eyes and I got so much happiness that she could still feel safe with me after the ass I was. "Maya," I whispered and kissed her lips once, "I'm so sorry."
"Aren't we all," she whispered back.
"No, Maya," I started, but she stopped me, putting her thumb over my lips. Both of our hands were on each other's faces, our breaths collided between us.
"Everyone, but especially people like us, just want to be forgiven. We want to be welcomed back in with wide open arms and told that people make mistakes." I caught a tear that raced down her cheek with my finger. "I'll always be here, baby, with arms wide open."
Baby. She called me baby. "That goes double for you," I said, my voice gruff. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry for talking to you that way."
"It's forgotten," she promised.
I had to tell her. I just had to. I hurt with whiplash from the way this whole conversation was going from one end to the other, but I had to say it. "Maya, remember when I said I'll catch you if you fall?"
She sucked in a breath so hard that I felt the cool of it against my lips. "Yes."
"Well, I hope you'll do the same for me." Her breaths were rapid against my chin. "Because even though we just had that stupid fight and this may be the most idiotic time to say it, I'm falling so hard for you."
She pulled back to see my face full on. I kept going. "You bring me back from the ledge. You make me feel like I'm not just…existing." She gasped and covered her mouth with her fingers. I didn't know what that meant, but I kept going. "You give me a reason to see a future for myself. I never saw anything there except a blank space. I don't know if it was blank because I was scared or I was just vacant, but…you make me feel alive."
She let her hands fall from her mouth and stared at me. I couldn't go any further. If she was disgusted, then I had to stop. I scoffed and shook my head. Gah, I was such an idiot. Of course she was disgusted. I had just been yelling at her not five minutes ago and now I was spouting my love for her? She was probably looking for the nearest exit.
Her hand on my face brought me back to her. "I'm sorry," I said immediately. "I shouldn't have."
"Shouldn't have what?" she asked. She laughed and I was more confused than before. "Wow, Milo. You're really working yourself into frenzy, huh?"
"Uh…What?"
"You are the most cocky…self-conscious boy I've ever met."
"Is there such a thing?"
"Yes. I'm looking at him."
"I don't know what that means."
"It means that you are comfortable enough to come out of the shower with nothing on but a towel, then ask me to come meet your family which you haven’t seen in years, yell at me with no mercy, then tell me you almost love me, and then backtrack with an apology, assuming that I will assume that you're crazy or something, like I'm not just as crazy about you as you are about me."
All the air left my brain. "Maya," I whispered.
She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. "Milo."
This time when I took her face in between my hands, I kept them there for a good long while. This wasn't a make out session; this w
as a love on session. This kissing was deep and slow and all consuming breaths and hands and fingers and tongues, moans, groans, aches, and so achingly slow.
I know, I know. There was a baby coming, but that baby was coming either way. And either way, I was going to meet him, and either way, I was going to reconcile with my brother.
Right then, I had to do this.
I had to love on Maya the only way I could and thank her for bringing me back to life.
I did let her drive the rest of the way and I was glad because by the time we reached the hospital, I was a wreck. She gripped my hand so tight as we went inside. I felt like such a little pansy for being so scared. I mean, this was Mason. My brother, Mason. I didn't even know how I was going to feel about him yet. What if I saw him and still hated him? What if I saw him and wanted to do nothing but run the other way?
I hated this so much.
Maya asked the lady at the desk for Emma's room number, but she didn't need to. Mason stood at the end of the hall, pacing. He looked up and saw me, almost as if he could sense me in that moment. The second his eyes locked on mine, I knew I was going to be okay—everything was.
Maya rubbed my arm soothingly, noticing the way I'd stiffened.
All I wanted to do was hug him and tell him how sorry I was, how I was such an idiot, how I was sorry for leaving Mom like that. Before I knew it, my feet were moving. He seemed surprised, even more so than I did.
When I reached him, I bear-hugged him and felt his arms wrap around me. I felt years of hate crumble around me—an avalanche of pain and hatefulness and stupidity and doubt. It was awful and wonderful. It was beautiful and painful. I hated it and loved it. I felt Mason shaking and realized he was crying.
That added more guilt for all the pain I'd caused him. I could hold it in no more. I put my mouth to his ear and told him quietly. "Mason…you have no idea how sorry I am. Forgive me for…" I couldn't finish. I was going to lose it.
"Don't," he said, his voice gruff. He pulled back and looked at me. "Don't. You don't have to say anything. I'm just happy to have you back. That's all I ever wanted. You look so good." He laughed and wiped at his eye embarrassingly. "Emma told me you looked really good, but I didn't believe her."
