Little & Lion

by Brandy Colbert

  I don’t want to know.

  She gets up and smooths the covers back over that side of the bed and pads down the stairs to the guest room without another word.

  I don’t sleep. I just lie there, waiting for the sun to come up.

  Waiting for my brother.

  twenty-three.

  I must have dozed off for a bit because the next thing I know, my room is bathed in sunlight.

  I rub my eyes and look at my phone, charging on the nightstand next to me. Ringer turned all the way up. Nothing from Lionel, but there are a couple of texts from our friends, saying they’ll let me know if they hear anything. It’s eight o’clock; he’s been missing for almost twelve hours now.

  I don’t have the energy to shower, but I change my clothes and brush my teeth before I go downstairs. The kitchen is a disaster, but there’s fresh coffee and food everywhere. Most of it looks like it’s hardly been touched. I have no appetite, so I pour a cup of coffee and head into the living room.

  Mom, Saul, Emil, and Rafaela are all there, joined by Emil’s parents. Catherine immediately folds me into a hug, murmuring comfort in my ear. Emil’s dad passes us on the way to get more coffee and squeezes my arm, giving me a kind smile.

  “No news?” I say to the room, even though it’s a stupid thing to say because I would know if there were news.

  “None,” Saul responds. He doesn’t look in my direction, but at least he’s still talking to me. Kind of.

  “We’re going to organize a search party for the afternoon,” Mom says. “Emil told us you went to some of his favorite places, but it won’t hurt to check again. And we should definitely look at as many parks and hiking trails as we can during the day—it’d be easy enough to hide out there at night.”

  A search party. For my brother. This isn’t the first time I’ve wished I could turn back time and have a do-over, but it is the one I’ve most earnestly hoped for. My brother being gone is the biggest problem I’ve never been able to fix.

  “Wait a minute.” Emil’s back goes straight, and I notice he’s wearing different clothes. His parents must have brought them over, or maybe he went home and came back. Either way, I’m glad he’s still here. “Has anyone checked the tree house?”

  No one says anything—we just all get up and start running, a flurry of hope headed toward the backyard. Emil reaches the tree first and climbs up in record time. The rest of us wait below, breathless, but it’s only a couple of seconds before he pops back out, shaking his head. “Empty.”

  He doesn’t come down right away, and everyone goes back to the house, shoulders slumping. Hope gone.

  I stay. And when Emil still doesn’t come down, I go up.

  He’s sitting on the futon, his elbows on his knees, head resting in his hands. “I thought he could be up here, you know? That kind of shit that happens in the movies. People are always in the most obvious place you don’t think to look.”

  “It was smart,” I say. “We have to try to think of everywhere. No one else thought of it, not even me.”

  He doesn’t respond.

  “And it could be worse. You could be me. I really fucked up.” The most obvious statement of the year, if not my lifetime.

  I guess he’s back to ignoring me. And I deserve the silent treatment, for a number of reasons. But I’m so relieved when I hear his voice. “We’re sixteen. People expect us to fuck up.”

  I sit down next to him, tentatively. “They don’t expect us to put someone’s life in danger.”

  “You did what you thought was right. And yeah, it was fucked up, but I get it.”

  I look at him. “You do?”

  He sighs and meets my gaze. “I’m sorry I said all those things to you. That wasn’t cool. Especially…”

  “You didn’t know what was going to happen, Emil.”

  “It still wasn’t cool.”

  “I didn’t know all that stuff you said… about the French names.”

  “Mine isn’t spelled the French way, but… yeah. Our moms made a pact.” He licks his lips. “I guess I didn’t realize the Rafaela shit was bugging me until last night, and then I just let everything out at once.”

  “There’s nothing between me and Rafaela,” I say quickly, and Emil looks as if he doesn’t believe me. “It’s not like what I have with you. And I don’t know what that is, but… I care about you, Emil.”

  “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

  “I’m not. But that girl I told you about—my old roommate—I cared about her, too. And I feel like I need to figure things out with her before I start anything new.”

  “You still like her?”

  “I don’t know.” And I don’t. I don’t even know if Iris will ever talk to me again, but I have to try to make things right with her, somehow. “But I like you. And I like being with you. And I don’t know what I would’ve done without you this summer.”

  He looks at me warily. “Yeah?”

  I’m out of words. I put my hands on either side of his face, lean in, and kiss him softly. He’s still for a moment and I freeze, wondering if he’s going to refuse me completely. But then his hands find the small of my back, grazing over my dimples of Venus.

  Emil kisses me back and I know he believes me.

  When we walk into the house, the mood is more somber than before. Mom is halfheartedly taking notes to organize the search party with Catherine by her side. Saul is zoned out on his phone, tapping endlessly at the screen. Kevin, Emil’s dad, is staring at his hands, as if the solution to this predicament rests in his palms. Rafaela is pacing the room; I’d never take her for a pacer, but she’s burning a path back and forth across the hardwood floor.

  If we were in an actual fairy-tale house, like she said, there would be a fat, dark storm cloud hovering over our roof instead of sunbeams that won’t quit slipping their way into every room of the house. Everyone loves L.A. for the warmth and sun, but sometimes I’d give anything for a proper dark, rainy day that matched my mood.

  Emil and I sit next to each other. Not touching, but I’m glad he’s next to me.

  Saul’s phone rings, scaring the shit out of him even though he was holding it in front of his face. He frantically pushes the talk button. “Hello? Hello?”

  Everyone sits up. Rafaela stops pacing. I can’t remember the last time I was in a room so silent.

  “Yes, this is he. Yes… yes. No, I did not. Okay.” Saul frowns. “Listen, I really don’t have time for this.… Yes, I care about the security of my card, but you declined the transaction. Which is good, because I’m not in San Luis Obispo, I’m sitting in my home waiting for my son to—”

  We all sit forward as he stops talking and then, when he starts again, as the tone of his voice noticeably changes, as light comes into his eyes for the first time since last night. He stands up and starts walking around aimlessly, and Mom somehow knows that translates into him needing a pen and shoves one at him, along with a piece of scrap paper. Saul scribbles something quickly and barely says good-bye before he hangs up.

  “What happened?” Mom asked.

  “Was that about Lionel?” I chime in from the couch.

  Saul doesn’t answer us, just begins frantically dialing a number. He’s babbling, not completing a sentence before he gets to the next one. I manage to make out his name and something about the credit card company before he stops talking and starts nodding. Then smiling. Mom is next to him, frozen in place just like everyone in the room.

  “He’s there, with you?” Saul finally says. His voice rises with each word and the room is so quiet I’m sure all seven of us are collectively holding our breath. “You’re sure it’s him?” He pauses, then, “Yes, he does have some of the prettiest red hair we’ve ever seen. That’s our boy.”

  Mom and Rafaela immediately begin crying tears of relief, but I can’t move. My brother is alive, and it sounds like he’s safe, too. Emil slips his fingers between mine and squeezes.

  Saul finally hangs up and his eyes
are wet, too. “That was a bookstore, up in SLO. They specialize in rare books and said Lionel came in this morning. He tried to purchase a book for twenty thousand dollars.”

  He’s laughing, and I’ve never been so happy to hear it.

  Luck was on our side. Lionel is safe. Even without his meds, he led us straight to him.

  twenty-four.

  The drive to San Luis Obispo is just over three hours, and we don’t even run into bad traffic.

  We take the 101 North all the way. I gaze out at the crystal-blue water of the Pacific as we drive along the coast for a stretch. I’m glad to have the sun on my face now. Lionel is safe.

  The bookstore is a family-owned business. The woman who owns it said most of the people who try to use stolen cards get out as fast as they can after they’re found out, but Lionel just stood there and started crying. Sobbing. She said she had a feeling someone might be looking for him, and her husband got him something to eat while she was trying to find Saul’s number. Saul called while she was still looking.

  I haven’t said a word the whole trip, and Mom and Saul don’t say much, either. We just want to get there, and somehow, not talking makes the drive seem faster. The bookstore people said they would take good care of Lionel, but three hours is a long time. Long enough to worry that they won’t keep their promise.

  Lionel picked one of the best places to get lost. San Luis Obispo is on the Central Coast, with a downtown area full of restaurants and boutiques and bars and shops. It has one of those old-time drive-in theaters, and DeeDee and her dad once stayed here at a famous hotel where all the rooms have different themes, with big stone walls like caves and shag carpet and brightly patterned wallpaper.

  Mom and Saul don’t let me go in with them when we get to the bookstore. I know it’s because they don’t want Lionel to get overwhelmed, but I’m antsy the entire time they’re gone. I briefly consider trailing them in, hiding in a corner until they’re ready to go. But they’d kill me. Mom looked back in at me before they left and said, “Don’t go anywhere.”

  And when they come back, it’s not they at all. Just Mom. “Come sit next to me,” she says once she’s in the driver’s seat. “Saul is taking Lionel back in his car.”

  “Oh.” I want to see him, but by the shaken expression on Mom’s face, maybe it’s best that I don’t. I slide into the passenger seat next to her. “How is he?”

  “He’s sick, sweet pea.” She places her hands on the steering wheel, even though the station wagon is still turned off. “But he’s safe. Saul is driving him straight to the hospital when they get back, and Dr. Tarrasch will meet him there. Lionel talked to her on the phone for a few minutes. She doesn’t believe he went into full-on mania, but we want to get him checked out. They’re going to do some tests and get his meds adjusted, so he might be in the hospital for a day or so. Just as a precaution.”

  “I’m really, really sorry, Mom,” I whisper.

  “I know, baby.” She turns to me and nods. “I know.”

  Saul comes home late from the hospital, so late that Mom is in bed already.

  It’s one in the morning, but I can’t sleep. The house feels too quiet with everyone gone now. I’m sitting in the living room, by myself, because part of me is hoping that the doctors will say Lionel wasn’t as sick as they thought, that he just had a bad lapse in judgment and he’ll be fine without too many adjustments. But the other part knows how foolish that is. He drove to San Luis Obispo on a whim on a Saturday night when he was on a date. No matter how much I wanted to believe he could handle his illness on his own, I know it’s not true.

  I hear the engine of Lionel’s car as it pulls up and Saul parks at the curb. His footsteps sound tired as they trudge up the steps and across the front porch. He struggles with the key for a few seconds before realizing the door is unlocked. He’s not expecting to see me when he comes in; he’s too tired to hide his expression, the one that says he’s really not in the mood for me now.

  He nods, but that’s it. Drops his wallet and keys on the table by the door and walks straight back to the kitchen. I follow him.

  Emil’s family cleaned the kitchen while we were gone, and it was sparkling when Mom and I got home. We didn’t have the energy to cook, so we ordered in Thai food that we picked over until she went to bed.

  Saul takes down a pan from the rack hanging above the island. “Egg in a hole?” he asks without looking at me.

  “Yes, please.” Suddenly I’m famished.

  He makes them wordlessly and they are perfect. The bread a buttery, golden brown on both sides, but still soft enough on the inside to soak up the runny egg in the middle. He gives me the first one and I wolf down half of it before he’s started eating his.

  I set down my fork when he stands across the island from me with his plate, taking his first bite. “I’m sorry, Saul. I… I should have said something, and I’m sorry.”

  “Have I ever made you feel like you can’t talk to me, kiddo?” When I look at him, his eyes are almost overwhelmed by the bags under them, but they’re also red-rimmed. “That day at the museum, you could’ve told me. Any day, anytime… I’ve tried to make it clear how much you can trust me.”

  I’ve always known that. Practically from the minute I met him, which is what makes this all so much worse. But what Lionel said—just thinking about it makes tears well up. What if he still hates me? What if things are never the same between us?

  “Lionel said he was done with me if I told you,” I say, the tears bursting forth as soon as I speak. “He said we wouldn’t be family anymore. I didn’t want that to happen.”

  Saul pushes his plate away. “He didn’t mean that. He was unmedicated and—he didn’t mean it, Suzette. Lionel and I will always be your family.”

  “I trust you.” I rub at my eyes but only succeed in smearing tears across my skin, making my face more of a wet mess. “I do. I won’t do anything like that again. I promise.”

  He nods. “That’s a promise I need you to keep.”

  “You’re not mad at me?”

  “A little bit, yes.” He blinks. “And we’re going to have some serious talks about this very soon. But I don’t blame you for this. And I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Saul,” I say as he wraps me in one of his hugs.

  twenty-five.

  Mom and Saul think it’s best that I wait to see Lionel until he comes home in a few days, so I try to keep myself busy.

  I go into the flower shop for my regular hours the day after we get him from San Luis Obispo. Things are different with Rafaela. She treats me the same and we have the same easy rapport, but she doesn’t flirt with me and I don’t really miss it. I wait for the usual flutter to arrive when I see her—it never does.

  We mostly talk about my brother’s health. She knows that my parents are wary of him dating anyone for a good long while, but she says she wants to be there for him. As his friend, if they can’t be more.

  That night, DeeDee comes over and we order a pizza, which we eat up in my room before we try to choose a movie.

  “What’s Alicia up to?” I ask, scrolling through our options on my laptop. We’re sitting next to each other, one half of my computer balanced on each of our thighs as we lounge against my headboard.

  “Hating me, probably.” She sighs and presses Pause. “We broke up. For real, this time.”

  I stare at her. “For good?”

  “I guess. She broke up with me.”

  “What’d you do?”

  Dee rolls her eyes. “She said she could sense that I was bored. Restless. Said I should go sow my wild oats, like I’m some dude who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

  “Well.” I give her a look.

  “Shut up. There’s a difference between being in an open relationship and cheating, you know.”

  “But Alicia doesn’t think so?”

  “She gets the difference.” DeeDee shrugs. “She just doesn’t want any part of it.”

  “Sorry,” I say, li
ghtly bumping her shoulder with mine. “Maybe she’ll change her mind.”

  “Or maybe we weren’t meant to be. Summer isn’t a good time to be tied down, anyway.”

  “Said like a dude who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

  I grin and duck as she swats at me with a pillow.

  Emil’s parents treat us to dinner the next night. Steaks in Beverly Hills.

  “We should be treating you,” Mom says as we pore over the dessert menu. “You were so good to us when Lionel was missing.”

  “We didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done for us.” Catherine takes a long drink from her wineglass. “The most important thing is that he’s back and he’s getting better.”

  “How was he today?” I ask Saul, who spent a couple of hours with him this afternoon.

  “Good. So good, in fact, that he’s coming home tomorrow.”

  “Really?” I’m still worried he’ll be mad at me, but I want to see him. It’s only been three days since he disappeared, but it seems like I haven’t seen him in months.

  Saul says yes, that he’ll be home by lunchtime. He looks as happy as I feel.

  Later, while we’re waiting in line with our parents to give the valet our tickets, I tap Emil on the arm. When he looks at me, I start walking and motion for him to follow. We go down the sidewalk a bit, stopping once we’re around the side of the building.

  We’ve texted a few times since Lionel was found, but we haven’t seen each other since then. I’ve missed him. And though we don’t have a lot of time before they pull the cars around, I’m happy to be alone with him, even for a few minutes.

  “I have to tell you something but I wanted to do it in person. Not over text or the phone or whatever,” I say, and I wipe my palms on my flowered skirt.

  He looks at me, wary and expectant at once.

  “I’m going back to Dinsmore. To Massachusetts.”

  He exhales, nods. “For her?”