The Long and Winding Road

by T. J. Klune

  “Noted. But Otter, being Otter—and also me being essentially illegal since I was sixteen—decided that instead of owning up to his feelings for me, he ran far, far away to the mythical land known as California.”

  “Wow,” she says. “What a wuss.”

  “Right? But to be fair, I was dating Anna at the time, and—”

  “You what?”

  “Yeah, we were together for, like, three years. Maybe four.”

  “And now she’s married to your best friend.”

  “Right.”

  “And you’re married to your best friend’s older brother.”

  “This is true.”

  She gapes at me. “What kind of messed-up drama is this?”

  I grin at her. “Oh, you have no idea. It got a lot worse before it got better. There was… well. Otter and I kissed before he left—”

  “You were jailbait,” she says, sounding scandalized.

  “He just couldn’t resist, I guess. And it got weird, and then—well. Mom left and Otter left, and it was just… it wasn’t good. For a long time, it wasn’t good. It felt like part of me was missing. And it wasn’t because of her.”

  “It was because of him,” she whispers.

  I nod. “I didn’t know it. Not at the time. But yeah. It was him.” I smile weakly. “But then he came back, and things got… strange. But it worked out, in the end. And you know what I found out about him?”

  “What?”

  “When Otter Thompson loves you, it’s for life. He doesn’t do things halfway. If you’ve earned his love, that’s it. There were… others. Before me. For him. But I don’t think he ever truly loved them. Not like he does us. He told himself he was happy, but I don’t think he ever truly believed it. He’s built differently. Than you. Or me. Or Ty. We’re more… reserved. We protect ourselves and our hearts because of everything we’ve been through. It’s harder for us. But it got easier. Because of him. He’s—there’s not a single thing he wouldn’t do for us. For you. And I know you know that, but you need to hear it out loud, okay? When Otter loves you, it’s for life. And he loves you, Izzie. As much as he loves me or Ty. Because you’re his now. And you’re very lucky because of that. You will always have someone who has your back. Someone who will fight for you. Protect you. Make sure you have everything you could ever want. Sometimes—I think even I can forget that. Things… they weren’t always easy. And that will still happen every now and then. He’s not perfect. I’m definitely not. Obviously. We’ll make mistakes. But just know there will not be a time that we won’t want you here with us. It may take you a long time to believe it, and that’s okay. We’ll be here when you do.”

  She’s quiet for a long time after that. I’m not sure if I should say more, but I don’t know what else I can say to reassure her. She’s watching me, but her expression is giving nothing away. Just when I’m about to open my mouth to say something, she beats me to it.

  “Can you hug me now?” she asks in a small voice.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. I’m very happy to do that.”

  And then I’ve got a lapful of little girl, though maybe she’s not so little after all. She’s not crying, but I think it’s close, because she’s trembling in my arms, and her face is in my neck, her breath harsh. I wrap my arms around her and hold on tight. It feels good to have her like this.

  It goes on. For a time.

  And that’s okay.

  HE THROUGH kicking his own ass yet?

  Nah. But JJ apparently decided that he wants to be a singer too, so I’m pretty sure he’ll agree to anything to get out of here.

  Oh dear god. Your child.

  Right? ISN’T HE THE BEST THING EVER???? Like, he has NO discernible musical talent, but do you think that stops him? NO. HE’S A MOTHERFUCKING THOMPSON.

  How’s Anna doing with him being a motherfucking Thompson?

  She took AJ and went to the store. She didn’t pack a bag, so I think she’ll come back.

  Maybe get rid of the guitar.

  LOL. Never. I spent five bucks on that thing.

  That… makes so much more sense.

  I am the best. Want me to send your lump of self-loathing home?

  If he’ll come.

  Wow. I’m insulted. I told him and he practically RAN out the door. Dude, that is so rude. He didn’t even tip JJ. We set the guitar case in front of him and everything!

  Thanks, Creed.

  You’re welcome, Papa Bear. Go easy on him, okay? He’s mad enough at himself.

  Got it.

  Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to take my son and his guitar to the boardwalk and see how much people will pay him to stop playing. I’m betting I get at LEAST two dollars.

  Father of the year.

  And don’t you forget it!

  I’M SITTING at the kitchen table going through my lesson plans from last year when I hear Otter’s SUV pull into the driveway. Izzie’s up in her room, googling more statistics to ruin the Kid’s life with. I’m surprised when I hear the front door open almost right away, assuming Otter would have sat in the car a little bit more, trying to psych himself up.

  His shoulders are slumped when he slinks into the kitchen, like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. But his jaw is set, and I know he’s steeling himself against whatever I’m going to throw at him.

  God, how I love this stupid, stupid man.

  “Hey,” he says quietly.

  “Hey, yourself,” I say, glancing up at him before looking back down at the notes on the table. “Heard you had a nice time with JJ.”

  “I—” He sighs. “I don’t know that it was nice.”

  “That’s your nephew,” I tell him, trying to keep from laughing. I’m still a little angry, but I’m more relieved that he’s here and this didn’t stretch on longer than it needed to. Younger me would probably be astounded how mature I’ve become.

  Mostly.

  “He is,” Otter agrees. “But sometimes, I think a little reality needs to set in.”

  “I think a lot of us could use a reality check, don’t you?”

  I can practically feel the full-body wince he does then. “Yeah. I guess.”

  “Izzie’s upstairs if you want to go talk to her.”

  He nods. “Okay. I’ll go talk to her, but I need you to know that—”

  “I’m okay,” I tell him. “She needs to hear from you first. I can wait.”

  He doesn’t look too happy at that, like I’m sending him away, but he turns toward the stairs. He stops before he leaves the kitchen. He says, “I love you.”

  “Damn right you do,” I say loftily. “I’m the light of your life.”

  “Jesus,” he grumbles as he heads upstairs.

  “Love you too!” I yell after him, just because I can.

  I DON’T know what they talked about. I could guess, and knowing Otter as well as I do, I’d probably be right. But I think whatever it was should stay between them. I had my say, and Izzie knows where I’m coming from, with her and with him.

  They don’t come downstairs for close to an hour, and by the time I hear them thumping down the stairs, Izzie is laughing at something Otter’s saying, and I hear the low rumble of his voice, warm and sweet. They sound good together like this. Like they always should.

  And when they come into the kitchen, Izzie’s eyes are a little red, her face a little puffy, and Otter looks exhausted, but they’re both smiling. They look like they’re back on even ground, and that’s all that matters.

  Izzie’s at the fridge, digging for a bottle of water, asking me if there’s still enough time for us to go out school shopping. It’s late afternoon, but since I’d already planned for us to be gone most of the day, I’m not too worried about it.

  “Sure,” I tell her. “You have the list the school sent you?”

  “I left it upstairs,” she says, coming to stand by my chair, leaning against me just a little bit. I knock our shoulders together, trying not to make a big deal about the casua
l touching. She’s never really done this before, and I don’t know what exactly has changed, but I’ll take it.

  “Why don’t you grab it and we’ll get going?”

  She looks between Otter and myself, eyes narrowing just a little. “Are you guys going to get weird about your feelings right now?”

  Otter is still standing at the entryway to the kitchen, like he’s unsure about his welcome. There’s an ache in my chest at the sight of him trying to smile at me but failing miserably.

  “Maybe give us a minute, huh?” I ask her.

  “You guys are so strange,” she mutters, but she sets her water bottle on the table and walks out of the kitchen, reaching up and punching Otter in the arm as she walks by. “If I don’t hear from you in ten minutes, I’m going to assume you’re having makeup sex and will be scarred for life.”

  Otter and I both choke a little at that.

  “How do you know what that is?” I demand.

  “It’s 2016, Bear,” she calls as she climbs the stairs. “I know what many things are.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I groan into my hands. “We need to check her browser history and then put parental locks on her computer.”

  “We can do that.”

  I peek at him through my fingers. He’s shuffling nervously, still standing in the entryway. “You’re an idiot.”

  He nods, like he’s been expecting this.

  “But so am I.”

  He nods, and then his eyes widen, and he shakes his head furiously. “No, it’s not—you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  I drop my hands onto the table. “Well. Let’s not go that far. I’m pretty sure I’m as culpable in all this as you are.”

  “But I’m the one that—”

  “Otter.”

  He sighs. “Bear.”

  “I love you.”

  His lips twitch. “Yeah?”

  “Like, so much.”

  “That’s… that’s good.”

  “I think so too. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to keep on loving you, even when you say stupid things. Because chances are, I’m going to say stupid things, and you’re going to love me anyway, right?”

  “Right,” he says promptly.

  “And you’re going to take that contract, and I’ll go to the appointment with Megan.”

  He shakes his head. “Already called and had the date moved.”

  “You did?”

  He shrugs. “I’m good at what I do. They want me. They’ll wait. And this is more important.”

  “Wow. That… should not have turned me on as much as it did. Your overinflated sense of self is apparently a kink of mine. Talk dirty to me.”

  “They bent over backwards to accommodate me,” he says, taking a step toward me.

  “I’m going to bend over backwards to accommodate you,” I say with a leer.

  He huffs out a laugh. “That didn’t sound as sexy as you think it did.”

  “Still worked, didn’t it?”

  “How so?”

  “You’ve got that look on your face.”

  “And what look is that?”

  “The one where you love me so much that you’re having all these feelings inside and you’re not sure which one to grasp on to first.”

  “That right?”

  “It is,” I say smugly.

  “Funny, that.”

  “Say something else that sounds egotistical.”

  He’s standing right next to the table, towering over me, looking more relaxed than he had when he came home. “I’m highly sought after in my field because there’s really no one better than me.”

  “Wow. Okay, I was kidding at first. But I’m actually getting turned on right now.”

  He rubs a big hand up my arm and shoulder, fingers curling around my neck as his thumb brushes over my cheek. “I’m sorry. For earlier.”

  “Me too,” I say, turning my face to kiss his palm.

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “I know.”

  “I told her that.”

  “I know that too.”

  “She said you’d already talked to her. About me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Said some pretty nice things.”

  I shrug. “What can I say. I kind of have a crush on you.”

  “Do you?” he asks, his hand heavy and warm.

  “A little.”

  “That’s good. I’m sort of crushing on you too.”

  I grin up at him. “Maybe we should see if this goes somewhere.”

  “Maybe,” he echoes, and he’s watching me like he can’t believe I’m real. That I’m here, with him. He gets that look every now and then, and no matter how many times I’ve seen it, it still knocks the breath from my lungs. “Do you really think all that about me?”

  “Fuck yeah, I do. I pretty much think you’re the best thing in the world.”

  He kisses me swiftly, almost knocking me off the chair. I squawk unattractively against his mouth, sure I’m going to fall over, but he’s got me, he’s holding on tight, and I laugh as he kisses my cheeks and forehead and nose and lips. He’s whispering to me, telling me he loves me, that he’s gonna love me forever, that he’s sorry, that he’s never going to leave us. And he’s shaking a little, and it hits me then, just how much he’d berated himself for today. I stop his words with my mouth, making sure he feels every single thing that I haven’t said.

  He gets it, because he gets me.

  It goes on and on until Izzie shouts down the stairs, “It’s been ten minutes, and from the sounds I can hear from all the way up the stairs, you guys are either scooping juicy watermelon or making out, which, good god, can you please act like adults!”

  “Yep,” I say, pulling away. “The juicy watermelon thing absolutely killed any erection I might have had. Good game.” I smack his ass and stand up. “Izzie! Get your butt downstairs so we can go buy you things you probably don’t actually need, but for some reason, the school district says you do, and who am I to argue with that? I’m only a teacher in said school district.”

  She’s grumbling as she stomps down the stairs.

  “This isn’t over,” Otter whispers hotly in my ear. “Later, I’m going to apologize all over you.”

  “That sounds disgusting,” I whisper back. “I’m so in.”

  He pinches, and I laugh loudly. Izzie frowns at the both of us as she comes into the kitchen, but something rights itself in my chest, and I know, in the end, no matter what, we’re going to be okay.

  13. Where Bear Sees Everything Change

  LIFE. IT turns and turns and turns.

  And even though you know it’s coming, it turns again, and everything changes.

  It’s Monday, September 12, 2016, and I’m in front of a classroom full of the wondrous future of America, trying to get them to give two shits about authors that have been dead for decades. It’s barely twenty minutes into the school day, and I’m thinking about something another teacher had said to me just this morning, that this would probably be the very last Monday I’d work in a long time, given that Megan was due in almost a week. I’d been dazed at the thought, barely able to function because she was right. It’d hit me harder than I expected it to, even though I’d known that, however unconsciously. But it’s almost here, and I’m struggling to maintain my focus when my husband bursts into the classroom, looking frantic, being trailed by the lady from the front office and the principal.

  I know what this is.

  I know it.

  But I’ve been through too much shit in my life. I’ve had bad thing after bad thing dropped on top of me out of nowhere. People we love have left. Have been hurt. Have died. For all I know, it’s just more of the same.

  Again and again and again.

  So I think I’m forgiven when the first thing I say is “What the fuck has happened now?”

  The kids in my class gasp dramatically, because apparently Mr. Thompson knows the goddamn f-word.

  The principal groans, putting
his face in his hands.

  The lady from the front office clutches her pearls, even though she’s not even wearing any.

  Oliver Thompson says, “I tried to call you on your phone, but you didn’t have it on you because you’re in class, you’re in class, so why would you? Bear. Bear. Megan’s in labor. She’s on her way to the hospital now. Bear, it’s happening. It’s here. We’re going to be dads.”

  God, how it turns on a fucking dime.

  And it can surprise the hell out of you.

  Because in moments like this, moments of great upheaval, I’m the one to lose my shit. I’m the one to babble and freak out and talk and talk and talk about anything and everything. My eyes bulge, and I worry about all the little things that could go wrong.

  That doesn’t happen.

  It doesn’t happen, because I can see Otter, the love of my very strange life, beginning to lose his shit.

  He’s wringing his hands and his shoulders are shaking, his eyes darting all over. He’s scared and nervous, and he’s saying, “We gotta go, we gotta go, we gotta drive to Eugene, and I forgot to bring a toothbrush. Bear, we packed an overnight bag just for this moment, and I forgot my toothbrush. I can’t brush my teeth and I don’t know what I’m doing. Okay? Bear, I don’t know what I’m doing right now.”

  And wonder of all wonders, a measure of calm falls over me, because yes, life turns, but we’ve spent years building toward this moment, and it’s here. It’s finally here.

  I say, “Tom, can you take over the class?”

  The principal nods. “And I suppose we’ll talk about proper language in front of pupils upon your return in three months.” He smiles.

  The kids are buzzing around us, because they know something is happening, but they don’t know what. I ignore them and focus on Otter. His hands are clammy when I take them in mine. “You have to breathe,” I tell him evenly. “You got this, okay? We’ve got this. I promise you.”

  His smile is a trembling thing, but he breathes. “I’m going to be a good dad, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “You are.”

  He nods. “Okay.”

  “Okay.”