by J P Barnaby
“Yeah?” Her wicked smile told him she already knew the first piece of news. Apparently he was the last to know on that score.
“Spencer proposed.”
“And?”
“And you already knew, so you must already know the answer.” He quirked one eyebrow at her and she laughed.
“I have a pretty good idea. Did you guys set a date?”
“He wants to do it soon, and I guess I’d rather get it over with, so that’s okay with me. We’ll probably go next week. He said we just need to register, and then we can go to the justice of the peace. No muss no fuss.”
“No you won’t.” Her voice rose an octave, and even Sophie stopped moving on the kitchen floor to watch.
“I can’t get married?” he asked.
“You can’t go do some clinical thing at a courthouse like that! You have worked so hard building this relationship with Spencer.”
“Mom, we’ll be just as married no matter where we—” Then he sighed and started again. “So I thought we could have the wedding here in the backyard, like Allen. Sorry, I was mistaken about the details of my wedding.”
“See, now that’s better.”
He laughed, he couldn’t help it. It all seemed so absurd. But if it would make her happy to put on their wedding, he could live with that. Let her take care of all the details. She’d be in seventh heaven.
“Now,” she said, lifting Sophie from the floor and dropping the little girl on her hip. “What’s the other piece of news? I don’t think I know that one.”
“We heard from the lawyer.” Aaron dropped his bomb in the middle of the kitchen table—and the flowers were still standing.
“What happened?” Her expression froze for an instant, and then she paled.
“Jane filed for custody in California.”
“And?”
“And our lawyer filed for a change of venue. Sophie lives in Illinois. He wants to bring the battle to us and make her work for it. He says she doesn’t really have a case.” Aaron added the last at her look of sheer alarm.
“That’s a good start. What happens next?” His mother sat down at the table across from him and set Sophie on the floor.
“The lawyer says if they grant change of venue, they’ll calendar the proceedings. It will take a while, and in the meantime, Sophie stays with us.”
“I wish that woman would just go away.”
“I can see her point, though. She was in love with Nell. They were going to have a baby together. She lost the woman that she loves. All she has left of Nell is Sophie.” Aaron shrugged. “You would fight for us. You have fought for us.”
“Yes, but she’s trying to take away my granddaughter. I can’t believe you’re so flippant about it.”
“I’m not flippant.” Aaron grabbed another block and then set it lightly on top of the last. “It would hurt Spencer terribly if she won. I don’t want her to win. I just said that I can see where she’s coming from.”
“Well, she can’t have her. I’ll mortgage the house for legal bills before we let this little girl go.”
“I don’t think it will come to that. Like I said, the lawyer doesn’t believe she has legal standing for custody.”
“Then why try?”
“Why try sending me to dozens of shrinks? Because she loves Sophie.” He shrugged, trying not to remember those times on the floor of the bathroom as the pain screamed in his head.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you love Sophie?”
Aaron could tell the answer would become central to their conversation. So he answered the best way he could.
“I’ve never really thought about it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that something is broken inside me. I love you. I love Spencer. But it takes a long time for me to figure out what that means.” He explained it in the best way he could. Sometimes love filled the deep cracks in his soul. Sometimes it didn’t.
His mother sat quietly for a long time, time enough for him to build several more towers. Sophie came to help, so he let her stand in his lap and put on another block. His mother watched them play for ages, not saying anything, just watching.
Finally she stood up.
“I was going to make meatloaf for dinner, and I forgot to lay out the meat,” she said, agitated, one hand on her hip, the other in her hair.
“I can run to the store for you, Mom,” Aaron offered, but she shook her head.
“No, you won’t know what to get.”
“If you’re going to make up an excuse, it should be better than that,” Aaron said, one eyebrow up.
“Not buying it, huh?”
“Go, I’m twenty-five. I can handle a three-year-old for half an hour.”
His mother glanced down at Sophie, who played quietly with the blocks. She seemed to like the X and the A most of all. Most of her buildings started with them.
“I haven’t been out of the house in nearly a week.” She looked back up at Aaron and then at Sophie once more. “She just ate and finally went potty a little bit ago. It should be fine.”
“Mom, take your time. We’ll be fine.”
“It’s going to storm,” she hedged.
“I haven’t had a reaction to storms in years.”
“It will scare her.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
Sophie gave up on her etymological gymnastics and wandered into the living room to the rest of her mountain of toys. Aaron followed. Between her toys and Tony’s toys, the room had become more of a children’s section of a department store than a living room.
“Okay, I’ll be back soon.” His mother dropped a kiss on the top of his head and then the top of Sophie’s head, like they were the same age.
Five minutes later she was out of the house and Aaron sighed. They all thought he wasn’t capable of taking care of Sophie. It had nothing to do with that. He didn’t want to be responsible for her. Sure, half an hour while his mom went to the store, maybe. But for a lifetime? Letting her walk home alone from school where the monsters lurked? Not a fucking chance.
It didn’t take long for his mother’s meteorological prediction to come true. Rain poured heavily outside, echoing in the gutter drain just beyond the window. It had already been half an hour, so it shouldn’t take too much longer for his mother at the store. He’d lied to her, a little. Storms did bother him, just not to the degree that they once did. But really, her presence wouldn’t make that fear any less. He had to grin and bear it.
Thunder crashed across the house, distant but enough to start his heart racing. He glanced toward the front window to see swirls of dark clouds dancing through the sky. Dr. Thomas had taught him years ago how to push his fear down. He took a deep breath and held it, then slowly released it as he counted to ten. It took him several of these breaths to realize Sophie sat whimpering on the floor. He hadn’t even remembered for a moment that she was there. Some kind of babysitter he was.
“Spenna?” she asked, fear plain on her porcelain face. The doll in her arms peeked at him over her death grip. She must have grabbed it while he freaked out quietly on the couch.
“Spencer is at work, Sophie. He’ll be home in a while.”
“Mama?”
The fear shone so clearly on her little face that Aaron couldn’t tell her again her mother wouldn’t be back.
“Grandma’s at the store. It’s okay. She’ll be back soon,” he assured her—or himself, one of the two.
She went back to playing with the doll until another clap of thunder sent her scurrying to the edge of the couch where he sat. Her pained whimper hurt his ears.
“Sophie, it’s just a little noise. It can’t hurt you.”
It can’t hurt me either. They can’t hurt me. They’re gone.
With the next clap of thunder, she tried to scale his leg. He picked her up and she trembled against him.
“Sophie, honey, it’s just a storm. It can’t hu
rt you. I’m right here.” Something in him loosened a bit as she snuggled into him. Her head rested on his chest and he held her gently.
He focused on her panic instead of his own.
Her head shot up at the next sound, but she didn’t cry out. Instead she gazed up at Aaron with wonder. He watched her, not understanding her sudden change. She reached up and put a tiny hand on his cheek—the cheek with the angry scar. It took everything in him not to pull away.
“Boo-boo,” she said quietly, tracing the harsh line with her fingers.
He swallowed, unable to speak for a second.
“Yeah, Sophie, boo-boo.”
Then she crawled a little higher on his chest and kissed his cheek. A tiny little imagination of a touch.
“All better,” she whispered and laid her head on his shoulder, grasping the front of his shirt in her fist as the rain beat against the windows.
He held her a little tighter then, cradling her as he kissed the top of her little blonde head and sighed.
The cracks in his soul began to fill.
Chapter 12
“NOW YOU see, this is why I stayed in Detroit,” Anthony grumbled when the bundle of sticks in his arms nearly toppled to the ground. The gym had done wonders for Anthony’s tiny frame, and he’d filled out into a man since Aaron had last seen him. The contrast was startling.
“I thought you moved to Detroit for me,” Bren protested from the corner of the yard where he shoved yard debris into an oversized garbage bag. The scarring on his side was barely visible while he worked shirtless in the afternoon heat.
“Well, now you know it’s really because I hate yardwork.”
“That explains a lot about my weekends. You can’t have finals every Monday,” Bren said with a snort.
“What time is Patrick getting here? I need someone to defend me,” Anthony complained, and Aaron grinned despite the rabid tooth-filled butterflies trying to eat their way out of his stomach.
“They’ll be here at about two or three. This was kind of last minute, so she worked late last night. He said they were taking off as soon as they got up this morning.”
“Patrick has a new girlfriend?” Aaron asked, to be polite and to give himself something else to think about besides the wedding that would take place right in that very spot the next day.
His wedding.
“Yeah,” Bren said just as Anthony snorted—outright snorted.
“You don’t like her?” Aaron asked his brother.
“Oh no, I love her. I think she’s great for Patrick.”
“Then, why the—”
“Her name is Patricia,” Bren explained and Anthony grinned.
“Patrick’s girlfriend’s name is Patricia?” Aaron asked, looking between them.
“Yep,” Anthony coughed out.
“Huh.”
“Yep.” Bren lifted the bag he’d been filling, tied it off, and threw it with the other two lying in the corner of the yard.
“Are they happy?” Aaron asked, not directing the question to one or the other.
“Yeah, I think they are. Patrick seems to be more relaxed lately. It’s either the sex or because she makes him laugh,” Bren said.
“Then what does it matter what her name is?”
Anthony and Bren both stood up straight and looked at Aaron.
“I mean, happiness is like that little vein of gold running through a mountain cave. You have to dig like fuck to find it, and when you do, it shines and dazzles you. But it’s a bitch to get that little vein of precious metal out of the rock. You both know how hard that is. They deserve a little happiness.” Aaron found a Matchbox car hiding in the flowerbed and tossed it in the pile.
“That they do, big brother,” Anthony agreed. “We all do.”
“How are you doing about tomorrow?” Bren asked, moving the subject away from his brother.
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t be freaking out, but I am. There will be just a few people here, family and close friends, no one I’m uncomfortable around. I guess it’s just nerves.” Aaron kept searching the grass for stealthy GI Joe figures who had eluded capture.
“Is it the getting married part? You don’t have to do it just for custody. That’s a shitty reason to get married, because someone forces you out of fear.” Anthony stopped working and faced Aaron, hands on his slim hips. He flipped his hair back out of the way, and Aaron saw real concern in his eyes.
“Maybe. Maybe the kick in the ass was a good thing. I don’t know that I’d have had the balls to do it otherwise. I love Spencer, and this feels like the next natural step, but now he’s stuck with me. No one needs to be stuck with me.”
“No one is stuck with you, Aaron. We’re all here, right around you because we want to be.” Anthony took a step forward.
“Even you?” Aaron asked.
“Especially me. You stood up for me when I wanted to stay in Detroit. You helped me be where I was supposed to be. I’m happier there, with Bren and my friends, than I have ever been. And maybe… I grew up a little in the process. None of it was your fault, Aaron. It was just shitty circumstance. I get that now.”
Anthony’s speech seemed to drain him, and he took that last step and held his arms out, giving Aaron the option.
Aaron took it and hugged his little brother for the first time since the world had been whole.
“Okay, no more intervention time. Let’s finish up the yard before Mom comes out and yells. She’s freaking out about this wedding more than I am. Christ, you’d think the pope was coming.” Aaron nearly toppled as one of those Little People came out of hiding and flung itself under his foot to bring him down. He could almost hear the fucking thing laughing.
Anthony grabbed his arm to keep him upright, then said, “Mom isn’t Catholic. I don’t think she’d care about the pope. Now Chris Evans, maybe. I’ve never seen a grown woman have action figures before. I’m almost scared to know what happens behind that shield.”
Aaron snorted, and the tension broke.
“Okay, let’s get this done before—”
“Aaron!” Sophie’s voice broke the air like a shattering glass, and she toddled over to them as fast as her little legs could carry her.
Aaron bent down and scooped her up, swinging her in a circle before bringing her to sit on his hip.
“Before the kids come out and destroy it again,” Aaron finished. He glanced down at Sophie.
“Where’s Spenna?”
“Spenna with Grandma. He’s mad,” she said with a quiet, sad expression.
“What’s he mad about, Sophie?”
She shrugged her little shoulders.
“Anthony, can you and Bren keep her occupied for a few minutes?” Aaron asked and handed the little girl over to his younger brother. He jogged the last few steps toward the house and pulled open the back door. Spencer sat at the table with his head in his hands.
Aaron went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
Spencer looked up and then quickly flipped over the piece of paper on the table.
“Sophie said you were upset. Everything okay?” Aaron signed, his attention focused on the paper.
“Yes. I just… I can not get this right,” Spencer signed and then put a hand on the page, covering it with his large fingers.
“What is it?”
“My vows,” he signed, and Aaron hated the troubled expression in his eyes.
“Spencer, we will be just as married no matter what words we say to each other. From what I understand, there are really only two that matter.” Aaron smiled at him and Spencer smiled back.
“I have waited so long for this. I want it to be perfect for you.”
“Are you going to show up?” Aaron asked.
“Of course I am.” Spencer’s signs were jerky and emotional.
“Then it will be perfect.”
“I love you, Aaron.” Spencer stood from the chair and cupped Aaron’s face.
“I love you too, and I am the one who is supposed to be fre
aking out. Both of us cannot do it. There is some kind of law.”
Spencer laughed. “Well, I think it is my turn.”
“Do you want me to help?” Aaron asked, reaching for the paper.
“No. I want you to hear them from me. Or see them from me.” Spencer kissed him lightly on the lips.
Aaron kissed Spencer on the head, and Spencer’s curly locks tickled his nose.
“Okay, then I am going to go see if Mom needs anything.”
That turned out to be a mistake, as his mother needed a lot of help. They spent a while trying to get this puffy, white piece of material, which he later heard her call “tool,” up into the tree above where they’d say their vows the next day. It looked like a lopsided arch, and she tried to get it to come out even, but the tree just wasn’t cooperating. Finally he took her hands and led her off before she began to look for a chain saw to whack off branches.
He’d managed to rein his mother in about all the decorations she wanted to throw like confetti across the backyard. Allen’s wedding, held in the very same spot, had been elegant, with matching centerpieces and color-coordinated ducks. Okay, not real ducks, but ducks nonetheless. It had held such a different feeling than the simplicity Aaron wanted. He didn’t need fanfare or glitter or even matching ducks. He just needed Spencer.
They put chairs around the tree in a semicircle. One row, maybe a dozen chairs in all. Aaron hadn’t wanted to make it a circus by having a lot of people. He wanted to be comfortable and as nonspastic as he could, and that meant only the essential people: his parents, Spencer’s father, his brothers, and their families, that’s it. Even Jordan hadn’t been included on the limited guest list.
He picked at his dinner that night as they filled the dining room to maximum capacity. Anthony and Bren opted to sit at the kid’s table with Tony and Sophie to keep them occupied while Aaron and Spencer slowly freaked out between bites of lasagna.
Then his mother started ticking off ideas on her fingers. “Anthony and Bren can take Aaron’s old room, and we can put Spencer on the couch with Sophie in the playpen. Aaron can sleep in the—”
“No,” Aaron said quietly but with force.
