Family Forever

by Valerie J. Clarizio

  The ordeal that just occurred with Luke was exactly why he pushed Marissa to sample life. He couldn’t bear the thought of saddling her with such responsibility at such a young age. Nope, he couldn’t do that to her, and Luke’s episode tonight was probably a sign from God substantiating his decision. And truth be told, how could he compete with someone like this Terry guy anyhow. He was rich and probably had no baggage. Someone like him was better for Marissa anyway.

  A car pulled up the driveway. Doors slammed. The kitchen door opened and the sounds of Cole, Marissa, and Terry’s voices and laughter carried into the living room. They quieted when they saw Dylan rocking Luke. Luke’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Why are you guys down here? What happened?” Marissa asked. Her beautiful blue eyes filled with concern.

  “He had a bad dream.”

  She stepped toward them, crouched down and placed her hand on Luke’s cheek. “You poor thing. Everything’s okay now?”

  Luke nodded.

  She smiled warmly at Luke and shot a quick glance to Dylan, and then looked back to Luke. “Your brother took care of everything for you, didn’t he?”

  “Ah huh.”

  Luke reached for her and she scooped him up, holding him tight against her, swaying back and forth. “How about I tuck you in?”

  “No, I want to sleep with Dylan.”

  Her soft blue-eyed gaze drifted to him and he nodded.

  “Okay then, how about I tuck you into Dylan’s bed?”

  Marissa disappeared into his bedroom and returned a moment later. She scanned the length of him. “Why are you all dressed up?”

  “That’s the same thing I was about to ask,” Cole said with a knowing smirk.

  “I decided I was going to Jake’s party until Luke had his bad dream, anyway. Now just leave it alone,” Dylan snapped at Cole.

  “You were going to come to his party?” Marissa asked. Her bright eyes lit with excitement. Did she know what he’d planned to do once he got to Jake’s?

  Behind her, Dylan caught a glimpse of Terry and his excitement to her reaction quickly diminished. Yes, Terry, the other man in the current picture.

  “Well, yeah, but it didn’t work out.” He looked at his watch. “I guess I better get some rest, four o’clock comes mighty early.”

  “Cole, since Luke will be sleeping with me tonight you can have Luke’s bed. Braden pulled the plug on the air mattress and claimed his own bed back.”

  Dylan purposely fixed his gaze on the couch, before focusing on Terry, hoping the man would get the hint that the couch was where he should sleep. Nowhere else.

  Marissa swung her gaze from Dylan to Terry. “The couch is a pullout, I’ll get some bedding for you. But just to warn you, the boys will probably get up early. Sorry.”

  Everyone parted ways.

  Dylan pushed Luke over and slid into bed but sleep didn’t come. He lay on his back with his hands clasped behind his head as visions of Marissa in that beautiful red dress invaded his mind. What was he to do? He couldn’t have it all, could he? A beautiful woman at his side, one who would accept his brothers into her heart, unconditionally. Was having such just a pipe dream?

  His alarm buzzed, Luke didn’t flinch. Dylan rolled out of bed, dressed, and nearly tiptoed through the living room as to not wake their guest, who, he was happy to see, had remained on the couch. A small part of him worried he wouldn’t find him there.

  Aric met him at the foot of the stairs and gave him the once-over. “You look like death. Did you sleep at all last night?”

  “No, but as you know as well as I, the cows don’t care if we slept or not, they need to be milked.”

  “Yep.”

  The two headed out to the barn. By the time they returned to the house, Marissa was in the kitchen whipping up breakfast for everyone. Cole and Terry sat at the table sipping coffee. Luke sat next to Cole, running his toy tractor back and forth over the tabletop. Braden and Nate were setting the table, under Marissa’s direction he assumed.

  The lovely woman cooking breakfast glanced at him. “I thought we’d all have a nice breakfast together before Cole, Terry, and I head back to school.” Her voice trailed off, and the sad look in her eyes let him know she was going to miss them as much as he and his brothers were going to miss her. He almost wished she hadn’t signed up for the January interim class, and though she wasn’t that far away, he tried not to pressure her to come home more often. Secretly, he’d love for her to stay longer and visit more often.

  Dylan quickly showered and returned to the kitchen just as Marissa was setting the serving plates on the table. Marissa took the seat between him and Terry. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the two interact comfortably, yet not overly enthusiastically like new couples sometimes act. How long exactly had they been dating? His heart sunk, evidently long enough to create ease among their interaction with one another. Yet, not a word or inkling had been said about him at Thanksgiving. Skepticism inched its way into his thought process, or was it wishful thinking?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dylan sat at the kitchen table with Luke as he filled out the valentines for his classmates. It was taking him forever to assign the correct valentine to the proper person, and then fill out the to and from as perfectly as he possibly could. When it came to this sort of thing his little brother demanded perfection and had a tendency to go overboard. Luckily, Dylan had swindled Nate into helping with the assembly of the little candy heart pouches Luke wanted to hand out with his cards.

  Braden bounded into the kitchen and glanced at their handiwork. “Aw, Nate, how nice of you to make little sweetheart gifts for your friends.”

  “They're not for me, I’m helping Luke,” Nate shot back.

  Braden’s smirk widened. “Sure they are.”

  Nate leaped off his chair toward Braden. “They’re not mine!”

  Braden ran around to the opposite side of the table.

  “Knock it off. Leave your brother alone!” Dylan yelled at Braden. Why did he always have to irritate his brother, and get him worked up?

  Nate perched his hands on his hips and stared at Braden from across the table. “Yeah, leave me alone.”

  “Baby. Go back to making your valentines.”

  Nate made a move around the table, Braden did as well.

  Dylan threw his hands in the air, then slammed his fist on the table so hard it actually bounced and moved over a few inches. “Stop it! Both of you just stop it. Why can’t you just leave each other alone?”

  All eyes were on him, Nate and Braden’s as big as saucers, and Luke's filled with moisture. Nobody was even yelling at him. The boy was so sensitive.

  Dylan sucked in a calming breath and swung his gaze between Nate and Braden. “You know what, both of you, just get out of here. Go to your rooms.”

  “For how long?” Braden asked.

  “Until I tell you that you can come back down.”

  “But I’m hungry, I was coming in here to get a snack.”

  “Too bad. You can wait. Maybe you’ll learn to stop fighting with Nate.”

  “Fine,” Braden spun, “crab.”

  “What did you say?”

  Braden ignored him and stepped out of the kitchen.

  “Hey, get back here," Dylan yelled. "And repeat what you said.”

  Braden stepped back into the doorway. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere but where he was.

  “He called you a crab,” Nate happily answered for his brother.

  The anger coursing through his veins intensified. “Well, maybe if you guys weren’t at each other’s throats all the time I wouldn’t have to yell at you all the time,” he barked back unable to keep the volume of his voice from rising. Nate and Luke’s eyes widened to the size of saucers again. Tears ran down Luke’s cheeks. Branden’s gaze landed on the floor.

  Dylan was about at his wit’s end. He needed a break, or help, they were driving him crazy lately. It had crossed his mind several times in the recent past to call
Cole home for a weekend, or perhaps his Aunt Mitzi, so he could get away, but guilt always set in and he didn’t. This was his responsibility, and they were just boys, doing what boys do. It wasn’t any different with him and Cole when they were kids. How did his parents do it? And do it so well? How did they never seem to lose it, like he was now? It probably helped that they had each other.

  Aric stepped hurriedly into the uncharacteristically silent kitchen, his unmistakable concerned gaze darted between his brothers and then landed on Dylan. “Everything okay?”

  Dylan’s heart raced, his extremities went numb as he stared at the frightened boys before him. He must have yelled louder than he even thought, seeing as how it drew Aric away from his video game. Yep, he was on the verge. Not good. He raked his hand over his face.

  “Well?” Aric asked.

  “Braden spouted off to Dylan and called him a crab,” Nate answered in not much more than a whisper.

  The corners of Aric’s mouth twitched upward. Why suddenly did Aric look so much like Cole? Cocky and knowing. “I see.”

  Dylan eyed Aric. That’s it? He was sure his brother had more to say.

  Aric looked at Braden. “Did you call Dylan a crab?” His brother’s tongue-in-cheek tone irritated him.

  Braden nodded.

  “Do you think you should apologize?” Aric asked.

  His brother’s silence let him know he didn’t think so, and he knew his brother was right, but he still shouldn’t talk to him that way. He deserved respect, he earned it.

  Braden must have come to the same conclusion. “I’m sorry, Dylan.”

  Why did his brother’s apology make him feel like more of a heel? All eyes were on him. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry I snapped at you guys the way I did and I’m sorry it’s me you’re stuck with. You guys deserve better.” He nearly choked on his last words. He looked away from his brothers so they wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

  “I’m not sorry,” Aric stated with such conviction Dylan nearly burst into tears.

  How did Aric, his cocky, smart-mouthed brother, of all people, know to say just the right thing, exactly what he needed to hear at that very moment? Relief ripped through him, knowing at least one of his brothers felt he hadn’t totally screwed things up. Yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to look back at them and the tension in the kitchen was killing him.

  “I’m going to take a ride. Aric, can you please help Luke finish his valentines?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dylan grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door and exited the house. He slid into his truck, started the engine and drove off. He didn’t know where he was going, he just needed to go and clear his head.

  Night had fallen by the time he reached town and pulled into the church parking lot. The church was dark and he supposed the doors were locked but just looking at it brought comfort to him. His heart-to-heart with God was quickly interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. Cole’s face flashed across the screen. He didn’t want to talk to his brother now. He just wanted peace and quiet. The phone stopped ringing and he resumed his mental conversation with God. His phone rang again, and Cole’s face reappeared. One of the boys must have called him and told him what had happened. Out of guilt he answered.

  “Hi.”

  A couple of beats passed. “You doing okay?” his brother asked in an unusually soft tone.

  “Yeah.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In town.”

  “By Grandpa?”

  Dylan had thought about going there. Though his grandfather could hardly communicate, he always found comfort when talking to him, but this time he was too embarrassed by his behavior with the boys. He couldn’t bear to look his grandfather in the eye.

  “No, the church parking lot.”

  “That would have been my next guess. When do you plan on going home? The boys are worried about you.”

  Good Lord, making them worry was the last thing he wanted. I’m such a screwup. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on the steering wheel.

  “Dylan, are you there?”

  He couldn’t seem to speak.

  “Dylan?” Cole’s voice raised an octave.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Do you need me to come home for a few days so you can get away for a bit? I can leave now, it’s not a problem.”

  “No. You’ve got classes to attend and you need to focus on that. I’m fine. I’ll head home in a little bit.”

  After a brief pause, his brother spoke. “I’m going to come home this weekend so make some sort of plan to go somewhere or do something for yourself. I’ll call Aric and let him know you’re fine and you’ll be a while. Clear your head.”

  “Thanks, see ya this weekend.”

  Dylan stared out the windshield at the large, mesmerizing snowflakes falling from the sky. They were thickening to the point where he could hardly see the church across the street any longer. His cell phone rang, knocking him out of his empty trance. His heart skipped a beat when Marissa’s beautiful face flashed across the screen, then it plummeted into his gut at the thought that one of his brothers probably called her to inform her of his meltdown. Yet, he couldn’t ignore her call. He needed to hear her soft, lovely voice.

  “Hello.” Though he tried to sound upbeat, his tone was bleak, even to his own ears.

  “Hi, Dylan. How are you?” Her sympathetic tone alerted him to the fact she knew what had happened.

  “I’m fine, and you?”

  “Talk to me, Dylan, I just hung up with Braden and he told me what happened. Are you okay?”

  Excruciating silence filled the air. He was so embarrassed he didn’t know what to say to her. No, he wasn’t okay but the last thing he wanted to do was tell her that or lie. He couldn’t bear the thought of her knowing how very out of control and weak he was at this very moment. Nothing was working out right or even remotely going according to plan.

  “I’m coming home. I’m leaving right now.”

  “No, stay there, I’m fine,” he snapped in a tone nearly as abrasive as the one he’d used on his brothers earlier in the evening. He’d give anything to suck the words back into his mouth and respond all over again. On second thought, what was he worried about? She couldn’t come home. She didn’t have a car. Her silence made him edgy and he fought for a controlled voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You can’t miss your classes. I’m fine, really.”

  “You know, it’s okay to let people help you. You don’t have to do everything yourself all the time.” Hurt emitted from her tone. Great. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, or any of his family for that matter, yet he managed to do an excellent job on the whole lot of them in less than an hour.

  With as much as he wanted to keep hearing Marissa’s voice, he knew he needed to end the call or he’d probably find himself begging her to come home.

  "Marissa, I really appreciate your call but I have to go. I need to get home to the boys."

  She bid him a reluctant goodbye.

  He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and put the truck into gear. He wasn’t even out of the parking lot when his phone lit up again. He put the truck back into park and snatched his phone off the seat. Yep, Aunt Mitzi.

  “Hi, Aunt Mitzi. Which one called you?” he asked, happy he was able to keep his voice in check.

  “Nice try, Dylan, but you can’t fool me. Nate was too convincing on the phone.”

  He wondered who Luke had called. He was the only one left.

  “Would you like me to come up for a few days so you can take a little break?” his aunt continued.

  His lungs deflated. “Thanks, but I’m okay. I got this, I feel better already, and I’m on my way home.”

  It took about fifteen minutes to convince his aunt that he'd regained control of himself and would head home shortly. He drove around a bit longer before pulling into his driveway. He had been gone for over two hours and was sure the boys would be starving to death by now sin
ce it was way past their normal dinner time. He walked into the house to find Aric washing what appeared to be dinner dishes. Braden was wiping off the table and Nate was sweeping the floor. Luke stood by Aric’s side and looked up at him with his big puppy-dog eyes. The fear emitting from his little brother’s gaze felt like a punch to his gut. He needed to fix this mess.

  “I take it you guys ate dinner?”

  “Yeah. Aric made hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.”

  Hmm. Aric, who never helped in the kitchen, made dinner.

  “We made a plate for you, it’s in the fridge. I’ll get it for you,” Braden said as he stepped toward the refrigerator. “What do you want to drink with it?” he asked as he glanced over his shoulder.

  He yelled at them and now they were going to wait on him hand and foot. Why did he feel so guilty about it? Then again, they did sort of have it coming.

  “Milk.”

  Braden put the plate in the microwave and poured a glass of milk, and then he set them both at Dylan’s spot at the table. The kitchen was unusually quiet as he ate.

  When he was done eating, Aric swiped his dirty dishes and washed them without complaint.

  Dylan herded the younger boys upstairs to get ready for bed.

  Before he finished tucking in Luke, Aric climbed the steps as well and poked his head into Nate and Luke’s room. “I think I’ll turn in early. Good night.” He took a step out of the doorway and Dylan called after him.

  Aric poked his head back through the doorway. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for taking care of things tonight.”

  His brother nodded at him and disappeared out of sight.

  Dylan returned downstairs, pulled a beer from the fridge, and sat in his recliner staring at the blank TV screen, pondering his life, particularly the most recent issue that occurred in the kitchen several hours earlier. His brothers did deserve to get yelled at, but perhaps not as harshly as he had. The fear in Luke and Nate’s eyes when he snapped scared him. So often when he reacted to his brothers he tried to think first about how his parents would have handled the situation, but not this time. He just reacted, and he’d give anything for a do-over.