Spaces Between Notes

by Kristina M Sanchez

  Niko dug his cell phone out of his pocket. Sure enough, there were several messages.

  Del dropped her voice. “I tried to warn you.”

  “Nikolai, are you finally home? Did you bring the beer?” Vincente appeared behind Del, and he pushed the door open wider. “The stuff you have right now is piss no self-respecting man should have in his fridge. You really drink that shit?”

  Niko shook his head. Hello to you, too, Dad. It’s been two months? Three?

  His father narrowed his eyes into an expression that had intimidated Niko when he was growing up. “Really? It just grew legs and let itself in, huh?”

  Somehow resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Niko made a motion about an inch above his head, waving his hand.

  His father grunted. “It’s your friend’s, eh?”

  Niko fought a grimace. His father went out of his way not to call Jamie by his name.

  “Should’ve guessed the sissy stuff had to be his. Did you get the good stuff?” He stood back so Niko could finally get inside his own place.

  Walking in the door, he raised his hands, showing how empty they were. He sighed and pointed out the door with a questioning look, asking if he should go out and get better beer.

  “Okay, okay,” his father said. “Enough with the charades. I don’t need your excuses, anyway.”

  “Dad, give him a break,” Del said, shaking her head as she turned toward the kitchen. Niko could smell dinner in the making.

  “I’m not doing anything to him.”

  Luca’s “I’m awake and unhappy about it” cry diverted Niko’s attention. He knocked on the wall so Del would see he was going to get Luca. She smiled at him, grateful.

  Niko found his nephew had rolled over onto his belly on a blanket in the living room. Niko picked him up and bounced him, stroking the back of his hair.

  “Shouldn’t you let your sister do that?”

  His father had followed him. Niko just shrugged and stooped to retrieve Luca’s binky. He put it in the baby’s hand and smiled when the boy stuffed it in his mouth, gumming the thing.

  “Here.” Del came in from the kitchen with a teether from the freezer. “This’ll help. He’s teething. Poor bubba.”

  Niko settled on the couch with the baby in his arms, helping him hold the freezing teether to his aching gums. Luca whimpered.

  “He’d feel better with his momma,” Vincente said.

  “Well, his momma’s only got the two hands and dinner to get on the table. Niko’s fine with him.” Del didn’t wait for their father’s argument. She turned around and went straight back into the kitchen.

  His father sat on the opposite end of the couch, still eyeing them with obvious displeasure. It reminded Niko of when he tried to help Del with the twins when they were young. Under his father’s stare, he had the itch to put the baby down but told himself it was ridiculous. His father could get as puffed up as he wanted. This was Niko’s place, and Luca was only going to start fussing if Niko was to put him down.

  Vincente cleared his throat. “So look, boy. We got to talk about whatever’s going on with you here. Your sister’s concerned.”

  Niko bristled, again flashing back to his childhood. Whenever his father wanted to have a chat with him, it was either at the business end of a belt or “Because your mother’s concerned.” After Vincente and Niko’s mother divorced, Del had taken over that place.

  “I don’t know what it is with you two boys.” His father shook his head. “Shouldn’t Nia be the one with the low-life boyfriends? But no, in this family, it’s my queer son who’s got the boy problems.” He scoffed. “This is my life. Then there’s you. Life dealt you a crappy hand. No one’s going to argue about that. But you won’t sue the damn surgeon for what she’s worth, so where does that leave you? Life goes on. You don’t use this as an excuse to be pathetic. Be a man about it, and stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself.”

  Niko looked up and made a “what?” motion with his hand. He could guess Del had been complaining to their father about him, but what the hell did either of them want? They were just assuming he felt sorry for himself because he couldn’t tell them otherwise.

  “So what’s your plan, then? Are you going to sit here on the taxpayer’s dime? There’s got to be something you can do to be useful to someone.” His father glanced at him with a critical eye Niko should’ve been used to by now. “Maybe that pretty face of yours got you by for a bit, but now you have to rely on your own wits.”

  Adjusting Luca on his hip, Niko got up and walked away from his father but only far enough to get to the desk off to the side of the living room. He rummaged through the drawers, ignoring his father’s admonitions not to turn his back when he was talking, until he found a pen and a pad of paper.

  I have a job.

  He thrust the notepad out so his father could read the words.

  “Doing what?” his father asked, his expression dubious. He’d said more than once what Niko did for a living before the accident wasn’t real work. Flashing that pretty boy smile is only going to get you so far, he used to say, so Niko imagined he thought he was all but useless now.

  Niko scrawled another word on the pad and held it up again.

  “Construction?” He laughed. “Of what? You can’t tell me you talked yourself onto a crew.”

  Glad he was holding Luca, Niko flexed his fingers. He huffed out a breath and shrugged again. Well, whatever. His father could believe what he wanted.

  “Come on, boys. Dinner’s on!” Del called, thankfully bringing the unpleasant conversation to a close.

  “I’m sorry. It was dumb to tell Dad I was worried. He’s got about as much tact as a fish likes dry land,” Del said when their father finally left.

  Niko fixed his sister with a disparaging look before he went back to doing the dishes.

  Del stepped up beside him, drying what he washed. “You’ve been a ghost these last few months, Nik.”

  Niko kept washing dishes and didn’t acknowledge his sister’s words.

  So, of course, she continued. “You had so much energy before, you know? I could never just drop in and expect you to be home before. You remember how full of excuses you used to be? ‘No, Del, I can’t hang out. I have to take a few people out for business.’ Or ‘Got a hot date, Del. This one…’” She imitated his whistle. “‘Brains and beauty, Del. I’m telling you.’ Hell, I miss seeing you with the band every other night when—”

  He slammed the glass he’d been washing down so hard that it cracked.

  “Christ, calm down.” She bumped his side. “Sorry. That was a dumb thing to say. I guess I inherited Dad’s tact, eh?”

  Still not looking at her, he threw the broken glass in the trash.

  “I’m sorry, little brother. I don’t know what else to say.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, ignoring how tense he got when she did. “I wish I could make this better for you. You just gotta quit being stubborn. I know you hated those voice boxes. Who the hell wants to go around with a box strapped to their neck? That’s awkward as hell, but there’s gotta be something else.”

  Niko shrugged her arm off, drying his hands. He stalked off toward the living room.

  Del followed. “Come on. So what’s the plan now? I get it, okay? You were on the fast track at your work, and now you gotta figure out something else. That sucks, Niko—it really sucks—but as much as it pains me to admit it, you’re a smart guy. There’s plenty you can do without your voice.”

  He found the notepad he’d scribbled on earlier and shoved it at her. She raised an eyebrow, mimicking their father’s dubious expression from before. “You’re serious?”

  Exasperated, he showed her his hands and arms. It was impossible to do the kind of work he was doing without getting banged up. A couple of his knuckles were skinned, and his arms were scratched and bruised. Growing up with a father in construction, Del knew well enough what working hands looked like. She brightened at the sight. “Well, okay, then. That’s good. This
is a good thing.”

  He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture, but he was glad Del seemed relieved. Maybe she’d leave him alone for a while.

  No such luck. “What about dating?” she asked a minute later after he’d switched on the TV.

  He rolled his head on the back of the couch to look at her.

  “You used to have a date every other week at least,” Del said, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I bet a lot of girls would go for the strong, silent type. Hell, you might even get further when you can’t say anything stupid.”

  Niko threw a pillow at his sister and turned his head to look at the screen. Dating. Yeah, right. Who the hell was she kidding?

  “Okay. What happened to you last night?”

  Niko looked up to where Carys was sitting cross-legged inside the front door, watching him rip apart her stoop. He raised an eyebrow in question.

  “This is you right now.” She knitted her eyebrows and scrunched her nose, putting on the meanest face she could muster. His lips twitched up at the corners, and she looked smug. She was trying to make him smile. “I’m just saying. It’s a good thing today’s all about destroying the old stuff before you get to the new, because you look like you have something to prove.”

  He pointed at her and crooked his finger. Carys stood and took his hand so he could help her around the carnage of her mostly broken stoop. She hopped down to the ground beside him, and he offered her the hammer. He mimicked using the clawed end to pull up boards of the lattice work that covered the back gap. A rummage through his toolbox produced another hammer, and Niko began to pull up boards on the opposite side of the steps.

  Carys watched for a minute, tentatively tugging at a loose board. Niko looked at her as he yanked boards up with gusto. Before she could follow his lead, her phone chimed.

  Niko kept at his work, but he watched her out of the corner of his eyes. Her smile fell almost as soon as she read the text message. She tapped the screen harder than necessary, glaring at it as she responded. Shoving the phone back in her pocket, she picked up the hammer again.

  “Benny has another job interview. Short notice again.” She grunted as she began to rip nails out with force. “The boy has timing. I’ve got a lot of free time between jobs, but of course he needs me today.” She yanked a board so hard that she almost fell on her ass when it came loose.

  Niko made it over to her side of the stairs in time to steady her.

  She gave him a sheepish smile of thanks. “Sorry. It’s just that I was working things out with Craig. We were dating for a while, and I screwed things up.”

  Niko nodded that he remembered.

  “Guess it’s not meant to be. There’s no way he’ll understand if I ditch him for Benny again.” Carys tapped the lattice work. “Do we have to be delicate about this?”

  He shook his head. That was what he’d wanted to show her. Sometimes it was almost as satisfying to destroy things as it was to create them.

  Carys smiled with grim satisfaction as she wound up and whacked the hell out of the board, reducing it to splinters. Niko jumped backward, but Carys just grinned and went at it again.

  It looked like fun, so Niko moved back to his side and took aim. He liked the sound of wood splitting. He swung again. And again. It was much more fun busting holes in the flimsy wood than just yanking them up. He swung harder.

  And flew backward with whatever warped noise passed as his startled yell. He dropped the hammer and clutched at his hand. One of the wood shards had caught his skin and ripped it open from above his knuckle to his wrist. Blood ran in rivulets down his arm.

  “Oh, no. Niko, let me see.” Carys was over to him in a second.

  Niko stared, more startled at what she was doing than at his injury. He could feel it wasn’t too bad, but she’d gripped his wrist as though she expected he’d bleed to death without a tourniquet.

  “Crap,” she said. “We have to get this clean to see what we’re working with. Come on. Come inside.”

  Since he couldn’t argue, he let Carys pull him inside the house and into the downstairs bathroom. She guided his hand beneath the cool tap water, and he hissed at the throb of pain it sent up his arm. “I know. I’m sorry,” she said, but the way she pressed herself against his side and stroked his back was more than enough to distract him from the pain.

  He gave a small tug to let her know she didn’t have to help him hold his hand under the water. She took the hint but didn’t move away. Instead, she crouched and touched his leg. “Move to the left a bit,” she said, and when he did, she opened the cabinet beneath the sink to take out a bottle of peroxide. For once, he was glad he couldn’t groan audibly.

  Carys took his wrist again, holding his hand steady as she poured peroxide over his wounds. He tensed at the sting. “Almost done. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.”

  She was upset. Her hands were steady, but her voice shook as she soothed him. She put down the peroxide, turned the water off, and took his wounded hand in both of hers. As she examined the jagged cut, her thumb massaged his uninjured skin, sending shivers down his spine. The pleasure of her touch mingled with the sting of the cut made for a surreal atmosphere. He couldn’t understand why she looked as though she wanted to cry.

  Niko touched her cheek with his free hand. She looked up, pressing her lips together hard, and his eyes went wide. She was really upset.

  He tapped his chest with his free hand, and gently extricating his injured hand from hers, he winced as he made the signs for “O” and “K.” She closed her eyes and gave a small huff of laughter.

  “I’m fine,” she said, correcting his sign. She put her thumb to her forefinger in the “a-okay” sign and tapped her chest with that hand.

  Fixing her with a patient look, he mimicked the sign, earning a smile. He brushed away the single tear that had fallen down her cheek and looked at her with concern.

  “I’m fine,” she said, making the sign she’d just showed him. “And I’m sorry. I’m a little sensitive when it comes to hand injuries, as you might imagine. I need my hands to work, and Bennett needs his to talk. I mean, he can talk. I don’t know if you knew that. He’s capable of speaking out loud, but it’s not the same. This is his language.”

  She picked up his injured hand, rubbing around the gash. “It was just too much to think about for you. What if this got taken away, too?”

  Shaking her head, she sniffed once and started rummaging through a drawer. “Sorry about freaking out on you. Let’s get this wrapped, and then you should go home. Don’t argue with me,” she said, her look and tone stern. “Humor me. Let me wrap your hand, and then go home and come back tomorrow when it’s had a chance to clot and scab over.”

  There wasn’t any reason why he shouldn’t do it if it would make her happy, and his hand did hurt. He nodded his acceptance, pleased when she smiled again.

  Keeping his promise to Carys, Niko did his best not to use his hand. It was harder than he’d expected it to be. For months, he hadn’t done much of anything, but now, knowing he was supposed to be working, he was restless.

  An incoming text saved him from boredom. Jamie was out of work early and headed to Carys’s house. Niko knew Jamie turned his phone off when he drove. It was as good an excuse as any to head back to Carys’s house. Left to his own devices, Jamie might decide to put in a few hours of work while he was there, and Niko didn’t want him cleaning up his mess on his own.

  Jamie was already there when Niko pulled up. The front stoop was still in the state he’d left it in, and there was no one in sight. He was about to head up the steps when he heard Jamie’s laugh coming from the back of the house. He headed in that direction but stopped short of making his presence known when he heard his name.

  “No, no. This is coming out wrong,” Jamie said, laughing. “Womanizer’s the wrong word for Niko. There’s an element of sleaze there, I think. Niko is,” he sighed, “was a charming bastard. That was what made him good at his job, and yeah, he was good with the ladies
. The women he was with… It wasn’t usually serious, but I don’t think that makes him a womanizer. He was good to them, and they were on the same page.”

  “I can dig it,” Carys said. “I haven’t wanted a relationship with every guy I’ve slept with.”

  “Yeah. Don’t tell him I said so, but Niko can be the biggest sweetheart when he wants to be.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. He’s always been that way. Sweeter than he’d ever admit.”

  “Tell me a sweet Niko story.”

  “Okay. Well, let’s see… So when we were in high school, I guess it would’ve been senior year, he had a girlfriend. Niko, like I said, has got a tough exterior. And maybe we weren’t angels back then. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “Not the type of kid a teenage girl’s daddy wants her to date?”

  “Her mother, but yeah. You got it in one. Betsy Turley was her name—the girl, not the mother. So Betsy’s mother pulls that whole ‘You’re not to see that boy again’ number that never works and yet parents continue to try it.”

  “Sure. It only makes them more attractive,” Carys said. “Been there, done that.”

  “Exactly. So Betsy’s upset, and she’s at school the next day, doing the teenage thing, carrying on about how she’s going to run away and her mother is ruining her life. And I don’t know what to do with a crying girl. If I wasn’t already convinced I played for the other team, that was the clincher.”

  “Emotional teenagers of either sex are scary.” Carys’s tone was wry but friendly. “Though you not being able to handle it has nothing to do with you being gay. A lot of people don’t know what to do with tears.”

  “Right. Anyway, I didn’t know what to do, but Niko just hugs her and says, ‘Baby, I’ll take care of it.’ And I was sitting there thinking he’s full of it, right? We were seventeen. Adults don’t listen to seventeen-year-old idiots. Then he turns to me and says, ‘You’re Betsy’s new boyfriend.’ Betsy and I both jumped down his throat.”

  “Can’t say I blame you.”

  Jamie laughed. “Let me give you a clearer picture of me back then. I was all about the emo punk look; more piercings than I have now, ripped shirt, ripped pants, spiked hair—I think it was magenta that day—guyliner, and my dad had let me get my first tattoo.”