Brooks

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Brooks Page 6

by Chelsea M. Cameron


  “Yeah, I don’t see it. But you’d be gorgeous no matter what color your hair was.” She snorted.

  “Nice line, Brooks.”

  “It’s true,” I said as I brushed the deep purple dye on her hair, making sure to soak every strand. Her head looked so strange when I was done and we laughed about it together. Her phone vibrated and she looked at the screen.

  “Ugh, it’s my mom asking where I am. The irony is that if she knew I was here with you, she’d be thrilled.” I gave her a look. This was the first I was hearing about her mom wanting us to spend time together.

  “And why is that?” I asked.

  She ducked her head and hid a smile.

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “Let me guess, she wants to play matchmaker? My mom said as much.” She looked up in shock.

  “Really? Your mom would want you to go out with me?”

  “Why not?”

  She gave me a look as if I was being dumb on purpose.

  “This?” she said, pointing to her purpled head.

  “Remind me to tell you about the time that Callan decided to use peroxide to bleach the shit out of his hair one summer. And then the time Dasen came home with a pierced tongue. And the time that Ezra and Falyn tried to get tattoos while they were underage.” My siblings had done a whole lot worse than dye their hair purple.

  She laughed.

  “Yeah, I guess your mom probably isn’t surprised by much anymore, what with having seven of you.”

  “Exactly. My mom doesn’t judge people based on whether or not they have purple hair.” Remi pursed her lips and then the timer went off. Time to rinse the dye out. I helped her with that, which was a chore because by the time we were done the dye was everywhere in the sink.

  “It looks like we murdered someone who bled purple blood,” I said.

  “A purple people eater,” she said and I burst out laughing.

  I cleaned the sink while she dried her hair with the hairdryer again. The purple was so bright it was startling. But it looked damn good on her.

  “Thanks for the help. You’re learning all kinds of things from me lately.” True. Baking. Hair dyeing.

  I stepped close to her as she packed up the rest of the dye supplies.

  “Maybe someday you’ll learn something from me,” I said and she looked up at me.

  “Maybe, Brooks Benson. Maybe.”

  Remi

  Mom had a hissy fit when I got home with my hair re-purpled. I didn’t tell her Brooks was involved, but she was probably going to find out anyway. Where else would I have gone to do it?

  It wasn’t like I had a friend I could go and see. A friend who was a girl, anyway. Sad? Probably. Whatever. I wasn’t a people person. Or, at least, I wasn’t an idiot person.

  “Look at it,” Mom said to Dad and I waited for him to inevitably take her side.

  “I think it looks lovely on her,” he said. Both mine and my mom’s mouths dropped open.

  “Dale, you can’t be serious,” Mom said.

  “I am,” Dad said, crossing his arms. “I think she looks beautiful with purple hair. I think she looks beautiful no matter what.” His voice shook just a tiny bit. He never stood up to Mom. I mean, I couldn’t remember it happening. Ever.

  “Oh, I can’t deal with either of you right now,” Mom said, stomping off to her and Dad’s bedroom.

  I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Thanks, Dad.” He held his arms out and then gave me a big squishy hug.

  “You’re welcome, Rem. I’m sorry I don’t stand up for you more often,” he whispered in my ear.

  I wished he did too. But better late than never?

  ****

  I started spending more and more time with Brooks. I couldn’t help it. I liked having someone interesting and smart to talk to about anything. He might not read as much as I did, but when I talked about books, he listened and even asked to borrow a few so we could discuss them. And then actually read them. It was awesome. He was also an excellent baking student and I was a little pissed how easily he picked up cupcake decorating. I actually put him to work making flowers for me because he was so good at it. With his help, I could make more things than ever and I actually started turning a profit. Slowly but surely, I was saving a little bit of money after paying my parents rent. I figured it was only fair to give them some money for heat and water, etc. since I was living there and using the resources.

  I still had no idea where I wanted to live.

  “Paris,” Brooks said one night while we were waiting for a batch of chocolate cheesecake caramel cupcakes to finish baking.

  “Hm?” I said. I’d been busy, ah, cleaning up. And not staring at his arms. It got hot back in the kitchen so he often just wore an undershirt.

  “I thought about where I’d want to live if I could and I’d pick Paris. I know that’s such a cliché, but I don’t care.” That definitely wasn’t the city I would have picked for him. Not at all.

  “Why Paris?” I asked.

  He paused for a second.

  “So I could visit the Louvre whenever I wanted. And have croissants.” Huh. Also not what I would have said.

  “Plus the history and the language and, yeah. Paris.”

  “The Louvre? So you’d want to see the art.” He nodded. Things started clicking for me.

  “Oh, that’s it. That’s your thing. Art.”

  “Ding, ding, ding,” he said softly.

  “You asshole, no wonder you’re better at making frosting flowers. Dick.” I shoved him with my shoulder and he smiled, just a little. A shy boy-next-door smile. The kind of smile that made my heart beat a little faster.

  “So, you’re an artist. That makes a lot of sense. Are you any good?” He laughed once.

  “I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

  “Okay, then can I judge for myself?” I knew what a big deal it would be for him to agree to show me something that was clearly so personal for him.

  “Sometime,” he said, easing away from me. I’d never seen him so cagey before.

  “Well, I’m guessing you’re good. Why didn’t you study that in school?” He made an exasperated noise.

  “Do we have to talk about this?” I gave him a look.

  “You were the one who brought up Paris and the Louvre and shit. And I’m not going to judge you or anything. I hope you know me well enough by now to know I wouldn’t do that.

  Brooks sighed.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just... it’s a personal thing for me, you know? Call me sensitive, I don’t even care.”

  “Why do you think I don’t want to bake with my mom in the kitchen? She criticizes everything I do then tells me how to do it better and it drives me fucking nuts. So I get it. I get protecting the thing you love to do from other people. You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to. No pressure, okay?” He nodded and the timer dinged. Very timely.

  “I don’t want to hate it,” he said as I set the tray of cupcakes on a rack to cool.

  “Hate what? Art?”

  “I thought if I did it as a career, with money attached, that I’d hate it. Resent it. Ruin it and not want to do it anymore and then what? What the fuck would I have left?” He made a hell of a lot of sense.

  “But if you never try, you’ll never know,” I said, turning to face him and crossing my arms before I continued.

  “I bake for money and I don’t hate it. Sure, it’s a lot of work, because it IS work now, but I wouldn’t work as hard at something I didn’t love. I put everything into it so I don’t fail. Failing is not an option for me now.” I hadn’t said so out loud before, but that was all true. I wasn’t going to fail at this. I wouldn’t let myself. No matter what happened, I was going to succeed at this.

  “I know you’re right. But I don’t know. I have this,” he said, waving his arm around to indicate the store.

  “I can’t leave it.” I wasn’t going to argue with him on that because I really didn’t know the entirety of h
is family situation.

  “Why not do it on the side and see what happens? Or not. Up to you.” I could see him fighting a battle in his head. It was hard to watch and I had the feeling if his parents knew the extent to which he was struggling, they wouldn’t want him holding himself back. Because he wasn’t happy. Neither of us were. But we might be able to get there, if we followed what we really wanted to do. Chased our bliss, or some crap like that. It sounded corny, but I was really starting to believe that. I was up most nights thinking of new recipes to try and different ways to tweak them and then in the morning I couldn’t wait to get up and try. I wasn’t dreading the days anymore. I didn’t dread my work. I wasn’t even that annoyed at my mom most of the time.

  Things were slowly looking up and I wanted that for him too. I wanted both of us to feel like people with purpose, and not like we were just floating around, waiting for something to happen.

  “Think about it,” I said, brushing past him. He inhaled sharply and I got a hint of his cologne. He always smelled so good.

  “Thanks. You always listen to me bitch and don’t complain.” I shrugged one shoulder.

  “You do the same for me. That’s how friendship works.” We hadn’t talked about being friends for a while. I think he was waiting for me to bring it up again.

  “Friends?” he asked and he looked so sweet and hopeful I thought I was going to die.

  “Friends,” I said with certainty. “Unless you turn into an asshole. Then the deal is off.” I narrowed my eyes and pointed at him.

  “You got it, friend.”

  The way he said it made my stomach flutter.

  Seven

  Brooks

  Dasen had to fill in for someone at work and called me late that night, desperate for someone to watch Pearl on short notice. “I’d drop her off at Mom and Dad’s, but I always feel like I’m imposing and—”

  I cut him off.

  “It’s no big deal. I’d love to have a day with her. I’ll take her to the beach. It’s still warm enough out.” Pearl had taken to the ocean like, well, a mermaid. She’d spend the entire day splashing in the water and playing in the sand and when I finally handed her off to Dasen she’d be so tired she’d fall right to sleep. So far she was my only niece, so she was spoiled, but she deserved it.

  “Thank you so much. I can drop her off at the store in the morning. I know you have to open.” I did, but then Ezra was coming in. Required Benson Variety duty.

  “No worries. Bring her by whenever you need and just text me when you want her back.” He thanked me again and I texted Ezra to let him know he was gonna be on his own.

  I had just hit Send when I got a text from Remi. It was a picture of her making a goofy face. From what I could tell, she was in bed.

  I really shouldn’t think about Remi in bed.

  I shook my head and made a stupid face and texted it back.

  Before I could stop myself, I added a message.

  Do you want to go to the beach with me tomorrow? I’m bringing my niece.

  She responded quicker than I thought she would.

  Yeah, sure. I don’t remember the last time I went to the beach. And it’s only a few minutes away from my house.

  I’d really thought she would say no. I was excited she’d said yes.

  See you at the store at nine?

  Deal.

  ****

  The next morning, Remi showed up wearing tattered jeans, flip-flops, and a t-shirt with the words “I’m sorry I’m late; I didn’t want to come” on it. And her sunglasses, of course.

  Fucking cute.

  “I brought extra sunblock too, since I burn like crazy,” she said, taking the bottle out of her bag and showing it to me. I gave her a thumbs up and went to grab some cold sodas from the case to put in the cooler I was going to bring with us.

  Dasen came in, carrying a wailing Pearl.

  “Sorry, sorry. She didn’t want to cooperate this morning.” I took Pearl from him so he could transfer the car seat to my truck.

  Pearl squirmed to be let down, and raced right over to Remi, staring up at her with wide eyes.

  “Poo pool,” Pearl said, pointing up. Remi leaned down.

  “Do you like my hair?” she said. Pearl nodded and reached out to touch it.

  “Be gentle,” I said, coming over to monitor the interaction.

  “Booful,” Pearl said, softly brushing Remi’s hair with her chubby fingers.

  “Well, thank you very much,” Remi said, giving me a wink.

  “This is my friend Remi. She’s gonna come with us to the beach. Is that okay, Pearl?” Pearl bit her lip and nodded.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Can I get a high five?” Remi asked and Pearl giggled before slapping her small hand against Remi’s.

  “Good deal, girlfriend.”

  Dasen came back in and I introduced him to Remi just before he shoved Pearl’s backpack at me and rushed out the door.

  “He looks so much like you,” she said as I scooped Pearl up.

  “We get that a lot,” I said as we headed out to the truck.

  ****

  While I carried Pearl and her bag and Remi hauled her own bag and the cooler (which had wheels on the bottom), I wondered if people thought we were a family. Me, my wife and our daughter out for a day of sun. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I snuck a look at Remi, but she was too busy making faces at a giggling Pearl to notice.

  The beach was pretty quiet so we were able to find a good spot of white sand to set up on. Remi and I spread out the blanket and then covered Pearl in sunblock. She wasn’t happy with either of us about that.

  But once we were all sunblocked, we took Pearl down to the water. She screeched in glee and toddled ahead of me.

  “Damn, she’s fast for a little thing,” Remi said as she stripped off her top and then shimmied out of her jeans. I was stopped dead by the sight of her in a black and white striped one-piece that looked like one of those suits from the ‘40s or something. Not that I could look too long because I had to chase after Pearl. Once I caught her, I took off my shirt and stripped down to my trunks.

  Remi put her hair up in a bun on top of her head and I could not stop staring. She looked like a pinup. Fucking hell.

  “It’s going to be cold as f—” Remi started to say and then remembered there were sensitive ears with us.

  “It’s going to be cold,” she amended, her face a little red.

  “Don’t worry. She’s probably heard her share of four letter words. It’s kind of inevitable.” We brought Pearl to the edge of the water and I set her down so she could dip her tiny toes in the water.

  She screamed as the waves grabbed at her toes and together we waded in, slowly, letting the water numb us from the bottom up.

  I kept Pearl in my arms as I waded out farther. She slapped at the waves while Remi followed behind.

  “This is cold, but I don’t even care,” Remi said, stretching her arms out and swimming a few strokes.

  “Swim! Swim!” Pearl cried, reaching for Remi.

  “Don’t worry, she’s coming back,” I said as Remi turned and then came toward us, singing the Jaws theme.

  She dove under and tickled Pearl’s toes, which made Pearl laugh one of those joyous baby laughs that was contagious. Remi popped up again and Pearl reached for her.

  “Can she swim?” Remi asked.

  “Yeah.” I put my hand under Pearl’s chest and tilted her forward so she was horizontal in the water. She kicked her little legs and paddled her arms and I let her go, but kept my hands close as she scooted toward Remi.

  “Wow, look at you go, little fish!” Remi said, picking Pearl out of the water and tossing her in the air.

  “Fiss, fiss!”

  The three of us stayed in the water until Pearl told me she was hungry. We got out and toweled off and I broke out the snacks.

  “She’s so cute I can’t even stand it,” Remi said as Pearl scrunched up her face, posing for pictures that I was sending Das
en on my phone.

  “I know. Sometimes it’s physically painful,” I said. “I cried like hell when she was born. Just absolutely lost it in the hospital when I held her the first time.” I hadn’t even cared. I’d had no idea how much holding that little girl was going to rock my life.

  “That’s painfully sweet, you know that? Are you trying to get me to want you?” she asked. I turned toward her and she just lifted her sunglasses, winked and dropped them back down.

  Was everything she did designed to get me to want her?

  “Well, that wasn’t my initial intent, but it if was a side effect, I wouldn’t be upset.” She snorted and crunched a pretzel stick between her teeth.

  ****

  When Pearl finally got tired, I put up a little canopy so she could rest under the shade. While she slept, Remi pulled out a book and started reading. I let her go ahead and closed my eyes for a few minutes, grateful that I was here with these two girls.

  Everything drifted away except the sound of the waves against the shore, the seagulls and the scrape of the book’s pages as Remi turned them.

  It was so peaceful and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this. Everything in my head quieted, and it was like I was painting or drawing. I wasn’t sure if it was the ocean, or the day off, or the girl sitting next to me reading through her heart-shaped sunglasses.

  I cracked my eyes open and glanced over at her.

  “I can feel you staring at me,” she said, not looking up from her book.

  “I’m not staring. I was just...” I trailed off.

  “Staring,” she said, turning a page.

  I put both hands up.

  “Guilty.”

  “You’re just mad I’m reading and ignoring you,” she said.

  “No. Not at all. I don’t need you to amuse me.” She laughed a little and then closed her book.

  “Then what do you need me to do?” My mouth went dry. Was she asking what I thought she was asking?

  She burst out laughing.

  “Oh, that was totally worth the look on your face. You’re so easy.” She smacked my shoulder with her book.

  “Hey, no violence in front of Pearl.”

  “She’s asleep,” Remi said.

 

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