All That Is Solid Melts Into Air

by Christopher Koehler

  Chapter 19

  GEOFF LEFT for Laurel’s without any hitches, at least not once we assured our parents that we really had made up. Yes, there would be ramifications to fighting under their roof—or for Geoff taking a swing at me, since I’d put a stop to his attempt to start a fight before the fight had started—but I, at least, understood and accepted the consequences. Easy for me, I hadn’t thrown the punch.

  So I joined my parents for a quiet evening at home, or what could’ve been a quiet evening had it been another family. But we were the Babcocks, so you know. Questions, pointed looks, and pregnant pauses.

  “Out of curiosity, where did you spend the holidays?” Dad asked once Geoff left.

  “Ask Mom. Grandma and Grandpa Fischer. Grandma called her, after all.”

  Dad turned to look at her. “Oh really, Dina? Did you not see fit to tell me this?”

  “You know my relationship with my parents is complicated, and—”

  “Your relationship with them is complicated? What about mine? I was worried sick about Jeremy, and you knew where he was this whole time?”

  Mom held up one hand. “I suspected. I didn’t know until Mom called me the day he came home.”

  “Sophistry, Dina.” Dad shook his head. He was pissed, but for once not at me. “On what did you base your suspicions?”

  “The credit card statement. He charged tickets to Chicago. We’re going to discuss your penchant for travelling in the first-class cabin one of these days, young man.”

  Dad sighed. “This family. Dina, you and I will talk later. But meanwhile, tell me, Jeremy. How was it being Fischered?”

  I squinted at him. “What’s that mean?”

  “Bought off, steamrollered into jumping through hoops, forced to be something you’re not. Any of that sound familiar?” Dad laughed at me.

  I thought about that for a moment. “There was an element of that, for sure, but they also listened to me when I needed to talk and helped me to put a lot of things that’d been bothering me into perspective.” I fixed Dad with a beady-eyed stare. “So yeah, they used me in their social-climbing games, and they’re footing the bill for my national team training, but they also told me to quit being a whiny brat, grow up, and come home and talk to you about our issues like an adult.”

  I laughed at Dad’s flabbergasted look. Even Mom looked startled, and they were her parents. “I don’t actually know what to say to that,” Dad finally confessed.

  “You don’t know what to say?” Mom laughed, but it sounded bitter. “Our youngest has apparently gotten out of them the one thing I always wanted. What’s your secret, kiddo?”

  So this was uncomfortable, and I avoided the question. “Did you know that the social climbing, the games, all of that is only a way to keep score? They’re all rich beyond belief, so merely spending money is irrelevant, and they have to work through proxies. Once I figured that out, them dressing me up like a Ken doll and bragging about my rowing and everything else made a lot more sense, and I came to see the fun in it. I even made some friends I’ll keep in touch with at those parties of theirs. If you look at it that way, Grandma and Grandpa are actually proud of our accomplishments.”

  I looked at them both. “So the secret? Work with them. Give them what they want to hear, and then the heavens will open up. They’re lovely people.”

  “Wait. Did you say something about national team training?” Dad stared at me intently.

  “Did I? Maybe you should call my grandparents. They accepted me and my relationship without any judgment. Something to think about, isn’t it?”

  With that, I went upstairs. I’d made my point. I was reasonably sure I heard Dad mutter, “I hate it when he’s right.”

  THE NEXT morning Geoff and I were left to hold down the fort. Surprisingly we both woke up fairly early. I could’ve and should’ve gone sculling but didn’t feel like it, and who knew why Geoff was up. He’d crept in fairly late last night, or early this morning, as the case had been. I tried to be quiet and keep the coffee fresh. I’d wasted no time in acquiring an espresso maker on my return, so it wasn’t coffee so much as that sticky rocket fuel Grandma had plied me with in Chicago. My skills as a barista only kept growing, but I had room to improve.

  “Jeez, Remy, what is this?” Geoff coughed a few times.

  I smiled. “Grandma calls it espresso.”

  “Turpentine’s gentler.”

  “How do you know what turpentine tastes like?”

  “Missing the point.” Geoff thought for moment. “So how were they? What was it like?”

  “Grandma and Grandpa Fischer? They’re delightful. Mom and Dad should be ashamed for letting their issues keep us from our grandparents.” I shook my head. “Honestly, it was just the break I needed, even if it sucked being away from Michael while the shit was apparently hitting the fan. That reminds me, I have a box full of Apple products for you to pick through.”

  “Oh?”

  I shrugged. “I guess they thought I needed new computers.”

  “Plural?”

  “I’m afraid so.” I smiled. “They haven’t seen me—us—for a while and had some indulging to do. There’s no way I can use all that. If there’s anything left when we’re done, I’ll see what Michael and Laurel want. Grandma and Grandpa don’t appear to know the meaning of restraint.”

  Geoff shook his head. “Only you can fall from the frying pan into the fire and emerge covered in diamonds.”

  “I think you’re mixing your metaphors there, sport.” I hoped he wasn’t jealous. I’d ended up in Chicago out of desperation, after all.

  “Can you steam milk on that thing? I’d love a latte to buffer that last dose you hit me with. Seriously, are you brewing paint thinner in that?” Geoff gave me an appraising look while holding his little espresso mug out for more. “You’ve had an interesting fall, haven’t you?”

  I had some things on my mind and wondered if Geoff had been rehabilitated enough to bounce ideas off of or whether he needed to be tormented some more. Then again, maybe being related to me was torment enough. Or perhaps I’d punished him since October, and I needed someone to talk to. Regardless, Geoff provided me with an opening.

  “You don’t know the half of it. Can I run some things by you?”

  Geoff looked surprised and maybe a little pleased, like we were back to being brothers again. “You can’t talk to Michael?”

  “No, this involves him.” I handed Geoff his latte. Who needed Starbucks when you had an espresso machine more complicated than a Kurosawa movie and more expensive than one of those computers my grandparents had given me? I used that contraption to stall by making my own beverage.

  “Sooooo?” Like Geoff didn’t know what I was up to.

  I sighed. “I’m going to rip the bandage right off, then. I don’t want to transfer to a New England school when Michael starts college next fall.”

  Then I braced myself for the fallout. To his credit, however, Geoff stayed silent, thinking about what I said. “I presume you have your reasons.”

  “Yes. I hope they don’t sound lame when I say them out loud.” They probably would. Everything sounded normal inside my head, but I easily became my own echo chamber. At least I was aware of it?

  Geoff leaned back in his chair. “Lay ’em on me.”

  “I guess it’s really two issues,” I said. “The first is that I’ve realized over the course of the fall that as much as I love Michael, I can’t be involved with someone in high school.”

  All I had to do was think of that Yo Gabba Gabba prom and it became so clear.

  Geoff looked at me like I was stupid, and maybe I was. “What do you mean? He’ll be out in six months, then you’ll be a sophomore and he’ll be a freshman. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen those on campus, because they’re all over the place.”

  “It reminds me too much of Josh Brennan—an older man involved with a minor.” Jeez, even thinking of that turned my stomach.

  Geoff, too, apparently. He reared ba
ck like I’d slapped him. “Oh man… that’s… that’s… you two aren’t like that. You two have one of the healthiest relationships I’ve seen.”

  “Then how come you—” Damn, this subject was going to make me angry for a long time.

  “I was blind and I was wrong, as Laurel pointed out quite forcefully and at great length.”

  “I know, but when I first thought of it, it hit me like a tugboat. I ran to the bathroom and puked my guts out.” I smiled faintly. “I scared my therapist.”

  “Yay.” Geoff didn’t look all that amused. “I’m sure that’s one she’ll eat out on when she and the other shrinks get together.” Then the first and probably most important part of what I said struck him. “Wait—you love him? Remy, that’s great. Yet it makes what you told me so sad and horrible. Can’t you… I don’t know, hang on for six more months?”

  I buried my face in my hands. “I know, I know. And he’s put up with so much from his parents because of me. I can’t turn my back on him right now. Talk about a crappy thing to do to someone, and yes, I really do love him, but….”

  I jumped when Geoff put his hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t been aware of him getting up. “Nothing’s ever simple, Germy, least of all being in love.” He pulled out the chair next to me. “What’s the other reason you don’t want to transfer? What did Mom and Dad promise you? I can’t remember.”

  “In return for being forced to spend my freshman year at CalPac—on a full-ride crew scholarship, by the way—that I could transfer anywhere I could get in for my sophomore year, including Boston University.” I looked up. “We didn’t really get a chance to discuss it after my races in October, but I toured BU before the regatta. It’s a great school, but it’s not for me.”

  Geoff laughed. “You know, there might be other great schools in the Boston area.”

  “Ass.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s not actually the issue, though. I like CalPac. A lot. It’s a great school. The rowing program is taking me places. I came in with a ton of AP credits, so I’m almost a sophomore without having done much, although I guess that’d be true anywhere. Okay, my roommate’s a nightmare, but I’ve got him under control. I’m building a life here.”

  “A life without Michael.”

  I exhaled noisily. “Not necessarily, not if he goes to school on the West Coast, but yes, potentially.”

  Geoff looked grave. “Have you spoken to him?”

  “Jeez, no. I’m terrified. He means the world to me, and this will break both our hearts.” Thinking about it made me choke up. “I only recently realized I love him. How can I be thinking about not being with him?”

  “I don’t know, Remy, but it seems like you are.”

  “I know.” I sighed, thinking. What a terrible thing it was to contemplate your own damnation. Wasn’t that what I faced for turning my back on love? What I deserved? All I’d ever wanted was to be somewhere with Michael where we could row and be ourselves. Now it looked as if I had to choose, and when faced with a choice between love and rowing, there wasn’t really a choice to make. What did that say about me? Besides the fact that my priorities were seriously deranged.

  But Geoff was speaking again. “So it looks like you won’t be coming to San Diego, either.”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Was that not implicit in telling him how much I liked CalPac and how far the crew program could take me?

  “We could’ve had a blast, you know.” Geoff shook his head slowly.

  I thought about it. Maybe we could’ve… before October. “Do you think so? Isn’t it time to make a break? Get used to not being constantly in each other’s lives?”

  “You’ll always be a part of my life, Jeremy.”

  “And you’ll always be a factor in mine. That’s part of being brothers, Geoff, but that’s not what this is about.” Seriously, why was Geoff making this about him? This had nothing to do with our past and everything to do with my future.

  Geoff looked as confused as I’d ever seen him, and I was right there with him. “Then what’s it about?”

  “It’s about me doing what’s best for me educationally. It’s about me making it into professional rowing, or as close as my sport comes to the pros.” I took a deep breath and pushed through my fears at even articulating it. “It’s about facing the fact that as much as I love Michael, I don’t think we can be together right now.”

  Geoff said nothing for the longest time. “Okay, all I can say about the rowing is damn and congratulations. I’ve known you were a great rower for years, but I’m not sure anyone knew how great you could be—”

  “I think Lodestone knows, not that he’s talking. Did I tell you I want him to coach me for my push for the national team?”

  “That figures.” Geoff nodded. “I can’t really tell you what school’s best for you. I still think UCSD has a lot to offer, but if the CalPac Titans are what you need for rowing, then UCSD’s Tritons will just have to cope.”

  Geoff and Laurel left for San Diego and the winter quarter the next day. They took a few Apple products with them, but that still left the bulk of the computer hardware and iPads for me and Michael. I think they struggled with the notion that Apples really did grow on trees, at least where our Fischer grandparents were concerned.

  “Doesn’t it feel strange to you that grandparents we haven’t seen since junior high suddenly shower us with consumer electronics?” Geoff said when I showed him the trove.

  I shrugged. “Not really, no. They’d already taken me shopping and treated me like a life-size Ken doll. By the time they convinced themselves I needed a new computer—”

  “Or three,” Laurel said.

  “—or more, I was used to it,” I said. “I tried to tell them that I didn’t need all of this, but it didn’t do much good, as you can see. So I did the next best thing, and that was bring it all home for us to share.”

  Geoff frowned at it all. “I’d feel better if I’d been there, I guess.”

  “Go see them this summer, or even better, spring break.” I followed them out to Laurel’s car and waited while they strapped in. “Go with, Laurel. Granted, shivering on the shores of Lake Michigan isn’t exactly a typical spring break destination, but then, you go to school in San Diego. It’ll be refreshing.”

  “Or bracing.” Geoff snorted. “I’ll think about it.”

  Unfortunately, I knew what Geoff’s “I’ll think about it” meant. It meant it’d probably never happen. “Make sure he does something about it, Laurel, will you? If nothing else, the trust fund they’ve set up for him might see you two through medical school, so it’d be a nice gesture to feign an interest in them.”

  Geoff’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? A trust fund? They’ve set up a trust fund for me?”

  “Oh, did that slip out?”

  “Remy!” Geoff yelled out his window.

  I grinned and went back to the house. I turned and waved from the front steps. “Don’t be a stranger, now.”

  I wouldn’t go so far as to say my brother and I were back to the way things had been before, but at least we’d started.

  Chapter 20

  LIFE BEFORE the spring term at CalPac started had a few bright spots. Michael went back to school about the same time Geoff did, which was about a month before CalPac resumed for the spring semester. As such, he no longer needed to sneak out to see me because he had the perfect excuse to leave the house and it was legally mandated—his last semester of high school. He came to my house whenever he had the chance before, during, or after school. Or I happened to encounter him at the Cap City boathouse, where I continued to scull until I was able to get back into the CalPac facilities.

  Lodestone thought the entire thing absurd until we explained it to him. Then he knew it was absurd.

  “I feel like a pimp,” he groused.

  I sighed. “I’m not fucking him over a boat, Lodestone.”

  “He’s really not, Coach. Total bottom city,” Michael said in a stage whisper.

  Lodestone winced. “Yo
u two will be the death of me, I swear.”

  “Then don’t lead with sexual innuendo.” I examined my fingernails for signs of damage, frowning at my left thumbnail. It actually looked like it was delaminating. I didn’t know that was even possible.

  “You’ve only gotten worse with age, Remy. You weren’t this dreadful last year, or even at the Head of the Charles. You used to be such a nice boy, and Michael! You’ve corrupted him beyond all hope of redemption.” Lodestone shook his head slowly.

  I rolled my eyes. The circumstances clearly called for it. “Are you sure?”

  “Just look at him,” Lodestone said. “I fully expect to see some sort of obscene tattoo the moment he turns eighteen. That, and about five piercings, only two of which will be visible when he’s clothed.”

  “Are you sure I’m the one responsible for the debauching?” I enjoyed this more the longer it went on.

  Michael nodded. “He’s right, Coach. Quiet waters run deep and all that. Maybe I only look innocent, and how do you know I don’t already have those piercings?”

  “Jacob’s ladder piercings and butt sexing give ‘Chutes and Ladders’ a whole new meaning, Lodestone.” I grinned at him.

  Lodestone flinched. He actually flinched. “You… you.” He shook his head. “I got nothing. Congratulations, Remy. You finally did it. You broke me.”

  “I had help.” I pointed to Michael, who waved.

  “One enfant terrible was more than enough, but two of you!” Lodestone continued. “Two! How can I be expected to put up with that?”

  This was why I liked Lodestone, loved—even revered—him.

  Michael slid his arm around my waist. “With your usual grace and dignity, I’d imagine.”

  “‘Usual grace and dignity,’” Lodestone parroted. “Did you have some reason for inflicting yourself on me, Remy, or was this purely a social visit?”

  That question made me twitch because did I ever have a reason, even an agenda for being there, and for once it wasn’t sculling. Or not sculling alone. “Uh… actually, yes. I need to talk to you about some special coaching.”