by Alan Conway
“And I said I understood then, and I understand now. I know it's not perfect being with me. We both have something missing from us that keeps us down. But you also have to realize that we have more than most people do. We have a child together. A beautiful child that loves us because we're his parents and we love him, too.”
“It just sucks, Brian. Why do we have to be so boring?”
“We've always been boring,” I say.
“Yeah, but we're worse than ever. And I'm a fuckin wreck because I might wake up tomorrow and you won't. Do you see? Do you see why I'm falling apart here?”
I take his cigarette and toss it over the side then pull him close to me. We hold each other for a long time and I don't care who's watching us.
“I'm not mad at you,” I say to his shoulder.
“Yes, you are. I know you,” He says to mine.
I push him away and wish I could wipe that distressed mask off his face. I know he's worried. I am, too.
“No, I'm not. I just don't want us to take for granted this time we have left together. We've let ourselves fall away from each other because we're afraid and we don't know how to deal with it. All we know is that we don't like the way we feel. Promise me we'll make an effort to change things even if it's the last time. I don't know if we'll get another chance.”
He strokes the few hairs left on my head. He holds me again and kisses my forehead. His strong arms grip my tired body as I hear him whisper for the first time in seventeen years, “Brian, I love you.”
The shock keeps me from saying it back, but I finally do and mean it more than I ever have. The door swings open and Lauren's standing there with Adam behind her.
“Sorry, no one answered the door. I didn't mean to interrupt.”
Before she can close the door, I tell her it's okay and we go inside to visit with our guests. I've already forgotten about Lauren's surprise. Hearing Damon's baritone voice utter those three words was the biggest and best surprise I could have ever hoped for.
Damon
I can't believe I said it, but I'm glad I did. I can't believe it took this long, but some things take a really long time to work their way out of you. After I confessed what had been weighing on me and then telling Brian I love him, a blanket of serenity wrapped me up and everything suddenly felt all right again.
Devin is on the floor watching cartoons, ones that I remember watching as a kid. I lie down next to him and ruffle his hair, which needs to be cut. I almost tell Lauren, but I decide not to. All we need is to start bickering over stupid shit.
Alan bends down to shake my hand and I notice he's looking quite excellent today. He's wearing a suit that must have been tailored. It's pimp. I comment on it and he tells me that it was in fact tailored and solemnly enlightens me on the occasion.
He's going to a funeral. His aunt passed away from liver disease last night. It's too bad, really. Adam pulls me aside while Brian and Lauren chat it up in the living room. He asks me if I've ever considered going back to school. I tell him I have, but it has never been the right time. Now is certainly the worst time for me to go back, especially while Brian's sick and Devin's still young. I must admit that part of me should start thinking about what I'm going to do when Brian's gone, but I don't want to think about that right now. I need a drink.
I make one.
Brian
I look out at the apartment building across from ours. It's gilded with golden sunlight as it approaches six o'clock. I suck down one of Damon's cigarettes just to see what the fuss is all about. I cough a few times and pitch it over the balcony. I check my phone. No messages. Two frat boys carry a beer pong table out onto their patio. They don't notice me watching from the third floor, but to be honest, I'm not that interested. I just need focus my attention on the mundane in order to avoid worrying. I go inside, turn on the news, fix a sandwich. No messages.
He should have been home an hour ago, but maybe he stopped off for groceries. Maybe he ran into an old friend he hasn't seen in a while. That's it. No need to worry, Brian.
I do worry. Too much, in fact. When I pass the TV and see the helicopter footage of the tangled wreckage on I-24, I notice a burning car in the southbound lane that looks eerily similar to Damon's. Before another chestnut of reassurance passes through my brain, I notice the faded “Soldier's Fury” sticker on the rear bumper and my body goes numb as if I've been shot up with quarts of novocaine. I drop my sandwich and run to my car, dialing Benton Memorial with a hand that doesn't seem to belong to me.
Lauren
I’ve tried calling Brian but the line is busy. Adam calls me and says he’s waiting for them to bring Damon in. The air-flight helicopter is in route. Five minutes, he says. Five long minutes.
I leave Devin with my sister and spend the next hour on the interstate, waiting in the swelling traffic caused by the pileup. I try Adam again. No answer. I’m pissed off and scared out of my mind. Now I’m getting angry. You better not die, Damon. You better not fucking die. Don’t you die on us. Don’t–
Adam’s calling. I answer it and he tells me Damon’s badly burned. Oh sweet holy Jesus. He’s unconscious and he’s not breathing. They’re trying to resuscitate him right now, but it doesn’t look good.
Brian’s there but they won’t let him see Damon. He’s delirious and completely mad. Adam forcibly gave him a sedative. He’s in the burn unit waiting room on the third floor.
Once I finally get there, my head throbbing and my stomach chewing on shards broken glass, I find Brian. He’s staring out of the big glass windows overlooking the courtyard. His eyes are bloodshot and glazed over. The thin patches of hair on his head stick out like wheatgrass raped by a windstorm. I touch his shoulder and say his name.
Silence. I might as well be a ghost.
“Brian, is Damon all right? Dammit, talk to me!”
I shake him, wanting to hear something, anything. But he doesn’t have to say anything. His face already told me.
“No. No, Brian.” My voice comes from far away through a tunnel or a cave, a long distance transmission from reality. I pound Brian’s chest with the back of my fists but I don’t know why I do it. He lets me for a while until he wraps me up in his arms and holds me. We hold each other. His whiskers are rough on my forehead and I want to tell him to shave – it’s almost automatic and it nearly makes me hee-haw into madness for thinking of something as trivial as that at a time like this.
A time like what? I’m overreacting. I must be. Damon’s fine. He’s probably banged up pretty good and burned a little, but he’s going to be okay. He’s Damon. I just talked to him this morning and he was fine. We were all going to go to–
“Are you the… family of Damon Loveless?”
Brian nods to the nurse without looking at her.
“They’re taking him down now,” she says. “You’ll need to sign–”
Brian waves her away, nodding. She gets the message and walks away quietly.
“What happens now?” he asks. I’m still against his chest listening for his heartbeat but I can’t hear it. I wonder if it stopped beating when Damon’s finally gave up.
Brian
I stare at him for a long time, waiting for him to speak. He doesn't. I try not to imagine what he looks like now. Nothing like in this framed photograph in my hand, I’m sure. I hope he's comfortable. I want to kiss his cheek and smell him again, but I'll never have that chance. I touch the casket and it's cold like he must be. My legs move without my control, carrying me to the front pew marked reserved where I sit and watch the others take their turn to reflect on a life lost. A life lived and now gone. There's music playing but I can't hear it. Not really. I blink. My eyes burn. I decide to keep them closed for a while until a hand rests on my shoulder. Lauren leans over and squeezes me. I shake Adam's hand. They don't speak. A world of silence. Quiet. Empty. I look over at Devin, his legs dangling, coloring a picture with a stubby blue crayon. He has no clue what's happening. At this point, neither do I.
The s
ervice drags by. Six of us carry him out and push the box across the casters in back of the hearse. As I follow the procession through the mist, I'm tempted to play our song. Just one last time. I don't. Can't handle it. Not right now.
There's a brief speech from Reverend Motley. I drag my feet against the astroturf, touch the ring dangling behind my shirt. Before I know it, Damon's being lowered into a hole. He's gone. I'll never see him again. It doesn't make sense to me. I can't fathom this notion even after swallowing a handful of pills Lauren gave me to relax. I can't take it anymore so I just start weeping pitifully without caring how sensitive and unreasonable I seem. I begin questioning this reality I've made for myself – this waking world dressed with hopeful fantasy. My guts twist into a knot, jerking and spasming like I'm devouring myself from within. Suddenly the world begins to melt away slowly, flickering. My perception becoming abstract and senseless. Memories become that of which dreams are made – ghostly matter lingering like stale perfume. Breathing is something I've forgotten how to do. It seems laborious and superficially unnecessary. I watch as everything shrinks down, compressing into a dot.
I strap Devin in his car seat and crank the A/C. Once we're home, I cook us some fish sticks, watch him smile and look around, expecting his other father to come home after a long day of being dead. The permanence of death is something I wish I could explain to him. Devin is a smart boy, but I fear he’ll spend his days waiting for Damon to return. Unfortunately, I’m more afraid I’ll be doing the same thing.
E P I L O G U E
“Brian died not even a year after Damon was killed,” the boy said, leaning back in his chair and pulling his jacket tighter. “Doctors said it was the cancer, although I think it was a broken heart, which is way more lethal that the big C. But that’s my opinion.”
Sarah's jaw hung open, hovering above an empty soul bowl.
“That was…definitely a bizarre story,” she said.
He smiled a bit, satisfied, wondering when she'll get it. Part of him didn't expect her to, but he felt like going the subtle route might be the most effective in this situation.
“So whatever happened to this kid?”
A car horn cut the tension. “Devin!”
He spun around to see his stepfather parked at the curb, waving at him.
“Be right there, Adam!” Devin winked at Sarah and got up from the table, grabbing his backpack. “Call me okay?” He dropped a few bills on the table, weighted them with his coffee mug, and hoped off the patio.
“Wait!” Sarah yells. Devin turned back to her, watching her hair waver in the breeze, trying to freeze her in a mental snapshot. “Was all that true?” she asked.
“What do you think?” He winked at her again and got into the car. As Sarah watched them drive away, she felt as though her head might explode at any moment.
Adam's BMW eased through the gated driveway of a Spanish hacienda on Macklin Avenue. The place was hard to see from the street, but Dr. Weiss took great care to maintain his family's privacy even though those edgy days were far in the past.
They rounded the circular driveway and parked at the front steps. The front door opened. Lauren stepped outside, her beauty and stellar character intact. She crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow. Devin got out and ran up to her. She ruffled his thick, moppy hair.
“How was school?” she asked.
He bobbed his head. “School was cool.”
“Dinner's almost ready, I promise. You'd better be hungry.”
Adam hobbled up the steps and kissed his wife on the cheek. “What are you talking about, he's always hungry.”
“Always,” Devin said and ran into the house and up the elegant, carpeted staircase.
Adam sat his briefcase in a chair at the bar, braced his hands on the granite countertop. Lauren worked over the stove preparing a remarkable feast of pork roast, carrots, potatoes, squash, and even an Italian cream cake – a recipe she had gotten from Brian's mother many years ago.
“Good to be home,” Adam said. “It's been a nightmare today.”
“I'm sorry.”
“That smells really good.”
“It should. It's your favorite.”
Adam smiled and went over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “It was someone else's favorite, too.”
Lauren smiled without humor. “Brian had good taste.”
Adam walked away and loosened his tie, stared at an oil painting next to the stainless steel fridge. “I'm not expecting anything, you know?”
Lauren went to him, kissed him, wrapped her thin around his. “Baby, he's still young,” she said. “He probably just forgot.”
Adam let a yeah escape him and took a deep breath.
“Don't worry about it. It's nothing personal. Have you met that girl he's been talking to?”
“Haven't met her, no,” he said, taking a beer from the fridge. “I've only seen her from a distance.”
“She's very sweet.”
“When did you meet her?”
“When I picked him up from school last week. Here, taste this.” She held out a fork with a sliver of beef dangling from its prongs. Adam took it, nodding.
“Tender enough?”
“Perfect.”
Lauren smiles and turns her head towards the stairs. “Devin! Come eat!”
The three of them ate quietly. Devin picked at his food.
“How's Sarah?” Lauren asked.
“She's good. Really good. We had coffee together today.”
“Third time this week,” Adam said, going for another beer.
“Yeah, I'm trying to make it a regular thing, but–”
“But what?” Lauren leaned in, waiting for it.
“I think I may have scared her today.”
Adam laughed. “Women are so fragile, so easy to scare. I wouldn't worry about it.”
Devin took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I told her about Brian and Damon.”
A fork fell from Adam's hand and chattered as it struck his plate. Lauren touched his arm.
“I'm sorry. I just thought… Well, I know you guys are worried about people finding out.”
“We just don't want you get into any trouble,” Lauren said. “The world's full of narrow-minded people.”
“You shouldn't worry what people think. From what you've told me, you use to not care. I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of. Sorry.”
“We're not upset,” Adam said. “I would just be careful who you tell, that's all.”
The door bell chimed three times. Adam got up, wiped his mouth, and went to the door. Lauren squeezed Devin's leg underneath the table.
“I love you,” she said.
“I know.” He winked back.
“Devin, you've got company,” Adam called.
Devin ran to the door. Sarah stood in the doorway against the setting sun through the maples that lined Macklin Avenue. Adam invited her in, but she said, “Thanks, but I can't stay long.”
“I'll leave you two, then.” Adam went back into the dining room. Sarah just stood there smiling.
“Aren't you gonna say something?” he asked.
She shook her head, leaned in and planted her lips easily on his cheek. His fingers touched the spot, which seemed to tingle once her lips withdrew. Victory! he cried out in his head.
“Can I come over tomorrow?” she asked.
“I'll have to ask… Fuck it, come on over.”
“You sure?”
He nodded without looking like a love-drunk fool. She turned and walked out the house and into the sunset. Devin expected to see credits rolling as she turned the corner.
He ran past Adam and Lauren and bolted up the stairs, hooting and hollering as if he had just won the lottery. Big win, baby.
A steamy discharge of water shot out from the shower head. He adjusted the temperature while kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt, revealing two rings on a chain around his neck. His eyes moved from the rings to his face, then back to the rings
. His hand closed around them. Devin took the chain from around his neck and hung it next to a photograph of Damon, Lauren, and Brian – one that Lauren had saved after Brian passed. Devin examined every detail just as he'd had many times before.
“Love you guys.”
He showered and pulled a shirt over his damp hair, tossing the towel aside. He hopped into bed, checked the clock, felt for the light switch. A knock came before he could escape into the darkness. He smiled. Adam peeked his head in slowly.
“You still up?” Adam asked.
Devin sat up in bed. “I was about to give up on you.”
“What do you mean?”
Devin reached into his nightstand and pulled out a small box, crudely wrapped. “Did you really think I'd forgotten?”
Adam took it from him and opened it. An antique pocket watch. Light flashed off the crystal.
“It doesn't run, but I thought it would look good in your collection. Did I do all right?”
Adam nodded. “You did fine. Thank you. I don't really know what else to say.”
“You don't have to say anything.”
For a moment, the words seemed to echo Brian's, which made him shiver. He just shook his head and hugged Devin as though he wouldn't be able to again.
“Happy Birthday.” For the first time, Adam felt like the sentiment was deserved. He had helped raise Devin since he was just a tyke, and being recognized as his father figure was a tougher road than he initially planned to take.
Adam kisses his forehead. “Get some sleep.” He went out and pulled the door closed, startled but not surprised to see Lauren leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed.
“I'm not going to say you told me so,” Adam said.
“You don't have to.” And after that, they made love and felt better about everything. Life had finally begun to seem normal in spite of how different their family history might have been. But who's to say any family is normal?
