by Lori L. Otto
“Let me know if the pain is too much,” I’d requested, and she nodded in agreement. Still, as I pushed against her, she’d squeeze her eyes shut as her body tensed beneath me. “Talk to me, Olivia.” Her detached response was another nod as her eyelids once again opened. She looked afraid.
“I can’t,” she said. “I don’t want to spoil the mood.”
At that point, I slid to her side and smiled at her. “Nothing you say could spoil the mood. I mean, Stop would spoil the mood, but that’s nothing I can’t get over.”
“I don’t want to stop.”
“Okay. Well you have to tell me if it hurts, so I know to slow down or be more gentle. I need you to communicate with me.”
“Come back,” she had said, attempting to pull my body back on top of her. I made her task easy and willingly moved back where she wanted me. We kissed a few more times, and I touched her softly beneath the blankets before trying again. This time, I took her left hand in my right and linked my fingers with hers.
“If the pain is too much, I want you to squeeze my hand. Squeeze it tightly, and then I’ll know.” Her fingers went slack. “You don’t like that method?”
“I love the method,” she said, “I’m just showing you there’s no pain because you’re not doing anything right now.”
“I see –”
“And I want you to do something.” I gazed into her then-eager eyes. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I said softly into her ear before taking her lobe between my lips. After that, we began to communicate with hand gestures, and I reacted accordingly until her hand released mine and she desperately wrapped both arms and legs around my torso.
In the seat next to me, Olivia starts to whimper, then cry. I rub her arm with my left hand, but nothing seems to lessen her tears. “Are you alright?” I ask.
She answers by squeezing my hand tightly. The pain is too much for her, and my heart breaks.
JACK
I turn around in my seat to check on Livvy. She’s been crying for the past five minutes, and all I want to do is hug her and assure her that we’ll get through this together, as a family.
But I can’t do that, because she’s clinging to that boy like he’s her only lifeline. Their closeness today is different than before, and I can’t hold my suspicions in any longer. Livvy’s sobs will mask the conversation.
“What happened last night?” I ask my brother. Emi had persuaded me to let Matty chaperone Livvy and Jon on their date, even though I knew my daughter had him wrapped around her little finger. I had a feeling she could convince him to do anything – or to let her do anything. Of course she could do that, she’d done it all her life!
“They went out to dinner,” Matty says, “while I went to a club.”
“How much did you drink?” I ask him instinctively.
“Enough, but not too much,” he answers. I don’t like his vague response.
“And when they got back to the hotel from dinner?”
“I left them alone–”
“Damn it, Matty!”
“Shhhh!” my brother says as he looks behind us. I follow suit, seeing Jon stare back at me. He looks guilty. “I left them alone in the living room of the suite while I hung out in the bedroom. They were watching TV. When I got tired around one o’clock, I kicked Jon out.”
I stare at him hard. I know he’s lying, but my brother’s so good at it that I can never truly tell.
“I know you’d cover for her,” I challenge him.
“I would never cover for her–”
“You covered for me,” I remind him.
“There’s a big difference between a 14-year-old kid not telling on his big brother, and a 46-year-old uncle not telling on his teenage niece. Give me some fucking credit, Jacks.”
“Something’s changed with them,” I tell Matty confidently, turning back around and catching Livvy and her boyfriend kissing. I look away quickly, feeling like I’m intruding on their intimate moment. Any other time, I’d break them up. Any other time, I don’t think either would feel comfortable like that in front of me. But today’s a hard day for my daughter, and I want to be understanding and supportive, in whatever way she needs me to be. All I know is that I wish Emi was next to me instead of my brother. I want nothing more than to feel her comforting hand on mine, her assuring kiss on my lips. I have no doubt she is needing the same from me… and as I relate these intimate moments with my wife to the moments that are occurring two rows behind me, I realize – as a father – I can’t let it continue.
“Nothing’s changed,” my brother says. I unlatch my safety belt and stand up. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to see for myself,” I respond.
“You’re wasting your time.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
I’m happy the private jet has rows with facing seats that double as foot rests. They will allow us all rest, if we get the urge to sleep. Right now, my adrenaline is still pumping from the shock of the news. I hope Emi and Jackson are able to relax on their flight.
The ambient noise on the plane masks my footsteps, and Livvy is still kissing Jon by the time I arrive in their row. I sit in the seat facing my daughter, my presence still unknown to them.
“Ahem.” They quickly separate, both of them looking at their hands clasped in his lap. Jon’s fingers loosen, attempting to escape Livvy’s grasp, but she isn’t letting him go. When I look at their faces, Jon’s is splotchy. He’s embarrassed. Livvy’s cheeks are still wet from her tears.
“Yeah, Dad?” she asks.
“How are you?”
She shrugs and blinks a few times quickly. “It hurts.”
“I know,” I tell her with an empathetic smile. “I miss her already.”
“Me, too.”
“I do, too,” Jon chimes in. Of course Donna’s death affects him, too. She was a creative mentor to him as much as she was to Livvy. She was a strong female role model that I have no doubt he looked up to. She was a stand-in mother to many of the kids in Nate’s Art Room.
“She wouldn’t want us to be sad.” I put my hand on Livvy’s knee, and she finally lets go of her boyfriend to put her hand on mine. I can’t help but feel a little triumphant, although I know it’s petty and silly. She’s growing up. She will go to other people for comfort at times.
She’s never felt loss like this, though. When her birthmother died, she was too young to know. She’s never lost a relative, and she’s closer to Donna than she was to my parents or Emi’s. She knew Donna before she even knew us. My eyes begin to water, as hard as I try to fight the feeling. Livvy quickly releases my hand and leans toward me, hugging me, comforting me.
I embrace her back and hold her tightly. Her stifled sobs make their way to the surface, and she cries as I hold her. “Shhh, Livvy. It’s okay,” I whisper. Jon excuses himself from the row and makes his way toward the lavatory at the front of the plane. I take his seat and hand my daughter a few tissues, emptying the box. “When you use the last one, no more tears,” I tease her. She chuckles lightly, and I’m grateful she remembers the rule from her childhood.
“I just don’t understand what happened, Daddy. She was always so healthy. She took care of herself.”
“Brain aneurisms don’t discriminate, Contessa.” She sniffles and nods, wiping her nose. “I guess it was just her time.”
“I wasn’t ready to let her go. I never said goodbye.”
“You said goodbye before we left. She knows you love her… and with, death, honey… no one is ever ready to let their loved ones go. If anyone knows that, Donna does. She’s with Nate now, and his father. It’s probably a happy reunion for her,” I explain. Emi and I had talked about it before I left England for Greece. She was inconsolable, and I hated to leave her this morning, but that thought seemed to bring her some peace. I hope it will do the same for Livvy.
“Is everyone coming back?” she asks me.
“Over the next few days. I think everyone will be back for h
er funeral.”
“Funeral.” The word escapes her lips like a tiny puff of air. She looks bewildered. “I can’t imagine life without her.”
“My parents will be staying with us this week when they get in.”
“They’re not going back to Wyoming?”
“They’ll stay for the funeral. She was like family to us. Mom and Dad know that, and they shared some good memories with her, too: your birthdays, holidays, Art Room shows. They want to take the opportunity to spend some time with you and Jackson, anyway.”
“That’s cool,” she says to me, trying to smile. “She could never be replaced.”
“They’re not trying to replace her.” I recognize that my daughter has a different view of family than I do. Aside from Emi and Livvy, no one is more important to me than my blood relatives. Livvy doesn’t have those, though, and has an easier time welcoming others into her life as if they were family. She’s accepting of everyone, openminded and ready to let them into her world. This was the case with Donna. It’s the case with me and her mother; with her brother; with all of her cousins, aunts and uncles. I look up to see Jon slowly walking toward us.
It’s the case with Jon, too. She creates strong bonds, putting down roots, holding people as close as she can while they’re in her life. Suddenly, the rapidity of their romance becomes crystal clear to me.
She loves quickly and freely. I was grateful of that trait when she was four. I can’t hold it against her now that she’s sixteen.
“Hi,” she says to Jon as he sits across from me.
“I believe I stole your seat,” I say to him, standing up.
“It’s okay, Jack,” he says, signaling for me to sit back down. I almost do, until Livvy reaches across to tug his arm. She wants him there. I can accept that.
“No, I’m good. I might try to get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” Jon says as he settles back in and buckles his seatbelt. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Maybe you two should try to, as well.” I know I’d sleep better knowing that they weren’t back here making out.
“I’ll try,” he says.
“I won’t be able to sleep,” my daughter responds. Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.
MATTY
“Did you rough him up?” I ask Jacks when he sits back down. He glares for his response. “Well, did you at least get the answers you want?”
“You know I couldn’t even ask such questions,” he says. “And right now, there are bigger things to worry about.”
“Bigger things than your daughter having sex?”
“So they did?” He wrings his hands together roughly and his nostrils flare. I shouldn’t have asked him that, teasing or not.
“No, Jacks,” I assure him, wanting to change the subject. “How’s she holding up?”
“She’s upset. She says it hurts. If I know Livvy, I know it will hurt more when she’s at home, alone in her studio. When that happens, I’ll be there to comfort her. And he won’t be.”
“He’s not a bad kid,” I tell him, standing up for Jon. I can see that he cares about her. I know he would put her needs above his own. I wish my brother would learn to let go a little. I know first hand that people like that are hard to come by.
“I know,” he says quietly. “I just wish they could have met five years from now. Or ten. I sense the heartbreak already, Matty. First loves are never lasting.”
“They can be.” Even after the words come out, I hear how silly they sound. I am not sure I even believe that, but for Livvy’s sake – to save her from that heartbreak – I hope it’s true. Jacks closes his eyes, putting his feet up on the seat across from him. I reach for my bag under my seat to get my headphones.
“Matthew?” I already fear his question. These days, he only calls me by my given name when he’s angry. I stuff my music player back in my tote and shove it under the seat.
“Yes?”
“You let them stay together, didn’t you?”
“Jacks, no!” I answer emphatically. “I already told you–”
“I don’t believe you,” he says, opening his eyes and watching for my response.
I don’t turn away. I don’t blink. I have to convince him. “They slept in separate beds. In separate hotel rooms. Did they make out before I split them up? Yes, they’re teenagers in love, but I didn’t let it go beyond that. That’s the truth.”
I stare until he breaks away. I think I’ve won until I notice the attendant standing over me. “I’d like whatever scotch you have on hand. A double,” Jacks says.
“Mimosa,” I request with a smile. I catch the flirtatious smirk on the steward’s face before he walks to the only other two passengers on the jet. He looks Grecian. What a beautiful man.
He reminds me of Mikolas, one of the men I met last night at the bar. He’ll be surprised when I don’t show up for breakfast at the hotel restaurant. He’d invited me back to his place last night, but I wanted to be available for my niece in case she needed me. I didn’t think she would, but she was in my care. Emi trusted her with me, even if my own brother didn’t.
After we get our drinks, Jack puts on his own headphones and shuts his eyes once more as he takes slow sips of his scotch. I think back to the conversation I’d had with Emi in England. She had come to my room one evening after Jacks went for a run around Middlesbrough.
After settling in with a glass of wine, we chatted about the upcoming wedding of Steven’s daughter, about love.
“Do you remember your first time?” she’d asked me.
“Do I remember? I have sober moments, Em. Give me credit.” I drank the remainder of the champagne I’d been holding and tucked the glass on the nightstand, out of sight.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” she laughed.
“I do remember.” I smiled at her faintly, the memories still very clear. I’d never experienced anything quite like that night.
“Tell me about him,” she encouraged me. Him. I laughed internally.
“He was the head cheerleader.”
“In college?”
“No, high school.”
“Wow, that was pretty progressive for a Jersey high school.”
“Not really. His name was Sundae. And he was a she.”
“Oh! I didn’t realize you’d been with girls…“
“Just one,” I had admitted. “Just her.”
“Well… did you love her?”
“No,” I told her quickly. “Not that there wasn’t plenty to love. She was the ideal girl. The girl next door. Perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect teeth, popular. She wore whatever Seventeen had on the cover. And she was actually really sweet. She cared about other people. There was no reason why I shouldn’t love her. Hell, everyone did.”
“Except for that one big reason,” Emi said. “You’re gay.”
“I mean, yeah. That had something to do with it.”
“So you knew back then, but you chose her to be your first?”
“I knew,” I admitted. “But I didn’t exactly choose her. My heart chose a guy named Jamie. Perfect hair, eyes, teeth, popular… he wore whatever Seventeen had on the cover – late at night, when no one was watching.”
“Really?”
“No.” I rolled my eyes are her naïvety.
“Back to your first. Why Sundae?”
“I figured if I couldn’t love the perfect girl, then it would confirm what I’d always known. Girls weren’t my thing. But I tried, just in case.”
“Do you regret it?”
“I regret that Jamie wasn’t my first, if that’s what you mean.” I’d shrugged my shoulders, still feeling the regret.
“What happened with him?”
“We grew up together.” I smiled, thinking back to a time that was much less complicated. I was not given an easy life. “He was my friend Nick’s brother. He was just a year older than I. I think we both always knew we were gay, but we’d never admitted to it – not to each other, not to anyone. I used to spend the ni
ghts at their house on the weekends, and after my friend would go to sleep, Jamie and I would stay up watching movies. I really considered him my best friend over Nick – that is, when we were alone. When anyone else was around, we kept our distance – except for this one time. We went to the movies, just me and Jamie. We saw some of our classmates there as we were leaving, and that’s when rumors started about us. I blew it off, adamantly.”
Emi had looked at me with empathy. My emotions were bleeding through my story.
“Jamie didn’t want to blow it off.” I started picking at my fingernails, letting the feelings of first love wash over me. “I wanted him so badly. I loved him, I knew I did, and I was so attracted to him. We had chemistry, but I was too afraid to come out. Not just to my family or friends. I was afraid to come out to him, too.
“One night at his house, while we were watching MTV, he brought it up. He told me he cared about me – in that way, he’d said. He said he felt like he could tell his family and survive the consequences if he knew I loved him back. I was too weak, though. Too insecure. Too scared. I didn’t tell him I felt the same… but I didn’t tell him I didn’t, either. The fact that I didn’t leave disgusted, was encouraging to him.
“To prove how he felt about me, he told his parents the next day that he was gay, and on the following Monday at school, he approached me seconds after I’d asked Sundae to go to Homecoming with me. When she said yes, she took my hand in hers and we walked past him on the way to class.”
I teared up, and Emi immediately moved to sit next to me, ready to comfort me.
“It was obvious he hadn’t slept, that he’d been crying. It was obvious that it didn’t go well with his parents. But he looked so hurt when he saw me with Sundae. I couldn’t bear to see him, and I was afraid he’d say something incriminating, so I pulled my new girlfriend into an empty classroom and I kissed her, hard. And I felt nothing.”
