The Blessing

by Elizabeth Price

  “I’m fine,” I finally manage to spit out. “Got back into town recently, found a job, and I started taking care of Greyson.”

  Grey looks back and forth between Travis and I—as if he were trying to detect a threat coming from my old friend. He looks as though he’s trying to place him, but he can’t quite figure it out. He’s probably too young to remember Travis ever being in his life anyway.

  “That sounds amazing, man. I’m sure your brother would be really proud of you.”

  I don’t think I can handle this right now. I don’t like to think about the past, let alone speak about it. I’ve not even discussed this shit with Ronnie, despite how calm she makes me feel. I just want her to see me, and not my past. I just want to start my life anew—and Travis is a reminder of the boy I once was. Although, I know it’s not fair to shut him out completely. We both lost the same person and we’d probably benefit from healing our wounds together. However, I’m not cut out to do that shit right now. I just want to be alone with my thoughts.

  “I don’t want to talk about him right now,” I say in a clipped tone. “Especially with you, Travis. I see him when I look at you and it fucking kills me.” I feel like I’m inches away from an anxiety attack. Images of Dean flash through my mind like a movie reel running rampant.

  Travis frowns at my curtness, but it’s obvious he understands. “Trevor, I don’t want to make this more difficult for you. We used to be close and I’d love to be a friend to you again, but if you don’t want to see me, then you don’t have to. But I think Dean would’ve wanted us to remain friends.”

  That’s it. I’m tired of this “What Dean would want” bullshit. “My brother is fucking dead!” I state through gritted teeth. “Who knows what the fuck he’d want? He’s not here to tell us and he never will be!”

  Grey begins to cry, startled by my outburst. I can feel all the color drain from my face as I look at him. I don’t know what made me lash out at Travis like that. This built-up rage inside of me is growing harder to control. It’s like caging a wild fucking bear in the confines of my body. It’s going to tear its way out sooner or later. I didn’t lash out because of Travis, but instead, of what Travis represents. He symbolizes the past with my brother and a time when we were all happy. Someone once told me that pain was good because it proves you’re still alive. If you’re still living you’ve got some fight left in you. If we can’t feel pain, then we can’t feel anything else. I wish I could will away these feelings. I wish I was numb and unfeeling like my mother.

  I watch as Travis’s eyes widen in surprise, disbelief, and—dare I say—understating. “Sorry, Travis. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around. Hopefully,” I say as I stand up with Grey in my arms and take a few steps away from the booth.

  “That’s fine, Trevor. I understand, man. I really do. I just want you to know that I’m here if you need me.”

  I pull my wallet out and toss some cash on the table to cover my lunch and give Travis a tense smile, which I’m sure looks more like an annoyed grimace, before walking out of the diner. I feel like a fucking coward. It’s evident he misses Dean as much as I do. But I’m just not ready to face him yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Maybe one day I’ll be able to openly talk about my brother and what he meant to me. But today—I’m in pieces.

  I’m a fucking zombie on the drive home. I go through all the motions with an emptiness that makes Grey uneasy. He looks at me like I’m an alien in a familiar body and doesn’t seem too happy at the idea of going home with me. As soon as we enter our apartment, I sit down on the couch with him on my lap. How long we sat like this—I don’t know. Time eludes me completely; seconds pass by as quickly as an hour. I don’t look at the clock. I don’t look at anything. I’m too numb to do anything beyond staring off into space. The memories won’t stop coming, causing me to grow fearful that they’ll consume me completely.

  Dean surrounds me as if he were still alive. As I sit here, holding his son, I can’t help but wish I was the one who had died. I would’ve gladly taken his place, and I’m not saying that to be a fucking coward. I don’t hate my life, but I love Grey enough to wish he had his father instead of me: a piss poor substitute. Dean had the entire world at his feet and I doubt there’d be a single person who’d miss me if I was gone. To Grey, I’m a sad excuse for a father, and to my parents, I’m an embarrassment for a son. I close my eyes and let my mind drift to a time where everything seemed so simple.

  Mom throws her head back and laughs as Dean and Travis give her a play-by-play of their last football game. She looks beautiful like this. Like the young, carefree woman she once was instead of the ice queen I’m used to. Dean’s stories always put her in the best of moods. She loves nothing more than to sit on the porch with her vodka and cranberry juice drink in hand, listening to the stories of her heroic, athlete son. I like to listen to my brother’s stories, as well—although, I can tell my presence annoys the fuck out of her. When I’m around, it’s a reminder that her family isn’t exactly “perfect.”

  Grey’s cries pull me away from my train of thought and bring me back to the present. I don’t make a move to comfort him; despite how much my heart yearns to, my body can’t seem to move an inch. There’s a hastened knock on the door and when I don’t answer it, Ronnie lets herself in.

  I hear her approach, but I don’t turn to look. I don’t want her to see me like this. Finally, my body is under my mind’s control again and I bring a crying Grey up to rest against my chest. Ronnie must think I’m a walking disaster because as soon as she sees me her beautiful face pales and it takes her a moment to recover.

  “I’ve been trying to get in contact with you all day.” Her voice is quiet and unsure.

  “I didn’t know. My mind has been somewhere else I guess.”

  “Can I sit down?”

  I slide over and offer her the cushion next to me on the couch. She sits in silence for a long moment, as if she were trying to gauge the situation before opening her sweet mouth. I appreciate it—I really do—but part of me just wants to be alone, while another part of me yearns for her like a moth to a flame. Seeing Travis has fucked with my head and now I feel like I barely know which way is up.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Fuck, do I want to talk about it? I’m aching to get these thoughts off my chest, but I don’t want it to change the way Ronnie looks at me. I don’t feel comfortable showing my emotions period, let alone with a girl I’m so insanely invested in. We haven’t even fucked yet and here I am considering baring my soul to her. This is a far cry from something the “old” Trevor would do. Hell, I wouldn’t even attempt to connect emotionally with anyone at all.

  I turn to her and she looks at me with a face contorted with confusion. My eyes sweep over her huge green eyes, her high cheekbones, and her luscious lips—enjoying the way her bottom lip is slightly plumper than the top. What I wouldn’t give to bite that lip and pull it gently between my own right now. I feel my tongue dart out and run across my bottom lip before I bite down to stifle a groan. I’m trying to control myself from doing what I really want to do. Her eyes fall to my lips and her face flushes as she watches the motion play out. I don’t want to talk—I just want to get lost in the feel of her. Before I know what I’m doing, I bring my lips to meet hers.

  My lips gently toy with hers, relishing in their salty taste. They’re softer than I imagined and I wonder if the rest of her is just as soft and sweet. Before I can deepen the kiss with my tongue, she pulls away, blushing a little. She’s no innocent—but she blushes like one. It only turns me on even more. I just want to pull her into my room and corrupt her completely. However, the crying baby against my chest prevents me from doing that. My judgement prevents me from moving further as well. I don’t want to rush things with her. I want to show her just how much I care about her.

  “What was that for?” she asks, breathlessly.

  “Do I need a reason? I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw
you.”

  She smiles and tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I’ve thought about the same thing.”

  As soon as I don’t have something physical to focus on my demeanor returns to the grim one I’ve been sporting since I ran into Travis.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Ronnie asks as she notices the change in me.

  I’m quiet for a long time. I rock Grey in my arms and wonder if I’m ready to open up to someone like this. If I’m going to tell anyone what’s on my mind, I’d tell Ronnie. I turn to face her, taking a deep breath before I say the words I never want to admit out loud. I feel as soon as I say them—admit to the truth—I’ll finally have to face my grim fucking reality.

  “My brother, Dean, died a little over three months ago.”

  Her eyes widen and fill with sympathy. She reaches out to take one of my hands in hers. “Trev, I’m so sorry. You two were very close, weren’t you?”

  I nod, feeling the muscles in my jaw tense and my eyes sting with tears. I take a moment to get control of myself. “He and my sister-in-law died in a car accident.” My voice fucking cracks and I pause before continuing. “A drunk driver hit their car…” I trail off, closing my eyes as they sting with tears.

  Her eyes fill with tears. As one falls down her cheek, I let go of her hand to gently wipe it away. “Don’t cry for me. It’s all over now and I’ve been trying to move on.”

  “I would’ve never known, Trev. You hide everything so well.”

  “I don’t know about that. I feel like I’m constantly on the verge of falling apart.”

  “You’re so much stronger than you think.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I know you.”

  She says this without any hesitation and I can’t begin to describe the way her words make me feel. She always knows just what to say to me and I’m so fucking thankful for that… for her.

  “I saw his best friend today when I was at a diner having lunch with Grey. I haven’t seen Travis since I attended Dean and Cat’s wedding,” I tell her with a bitter laugh.

  Ronnie’s quiet, grasping my hand again and allowing me time to continue when I’m ready.

  “It was so fucking weird seeing him, Ronnie. It’s as if I’d been confronted with my past and it stung more than I’d ever could’ve imagined. When I looked at Travis, I couldn’t help but see my brother, Dean. I feel like shit for feeling that way because I know he’s suffering, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. It was just that he and Dean are so fucking alike. It’s just a morbid reminder for me.”

  When I finally meet Ronnie’s gaze, I find a plethora of understanding. She’s obviously been through some shit, too—maybe one day she’ll tell me about it. Until that day comes, I wouldn’t dream of pressuring her. I can’t believe I doubted her before. I thought she’d look at me with pity, something I’ve gotten far too much of recently. However, while she’s sympathetic, she doesn’t feel sorry for me. Instead, she connects with me on an even deeper level.

  “I understand. I understand more than you know, Trev. I promise it’ll get better. Time may not heal your wounds, but it makes them bearable.”

  “Am I selfish for blowing him off? Should I reach out to him?”

  “Just do what is right for you. I’m sure he’d understand that. When the time is right, you’ll know.”

  Time dulls all wounds. God, I hope she’s right because I can’t bear this pain forever.

  Chapter 14

  wide open

  “I wanted to show you something.” Ronnie’s holding a picture frame against her stomach as she slowly approaches me. She insisted I come over with Grey, stating she didn’t want us to be alone tonight. I don’t know what she’s about to say, but she looks so incredibly nervous. Her body gently shakes as she comes over and sits down next to me on the couch, then hands me the photograph. “This is the last picture I ever took of her.” Her voice wavers and she pauses for a moment, collecting herself as she looks at Grey, who’s playing with his stuffed bear on her living room floor.

  “Hey, please don’t feel like you’ve got to tell me anything, Ronnie.”

  “No, I—I want to.” She stares at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’ve got to know that you’re not alone with this sort of pain, Trev. I’ve been dealing with it myself for so many years.”

  I lean forward and kiss her again, wanting to provide her with the only comfort I know how to give. The kiss is chaste and as soon as I feel her body relax, I pull away. She’s quiet for a moment, as if she were looking for the right words to say. As she seems to contemplate this, I take a moment to look at the photo she handed me. The woman in the picture is beautiful, with short brown hair, hazel eyes, and a smile that’s just like Ronnie’s. This is her mother.

  “She’s gorgeous, Ronnie.”

  “Thanks,” she smiles, wiping away a tear before it has a chance to trail down her cheek. “This was the last picture she let us take of her. She’s wearing the wig I picked out for her. I chose my hair color so she and I could match,” she tells me with a shaky voice.

  I wrap my arm around her shoulder and wish I could absorb some of her pain. I fucking hate seeing her like this.

  “She passed away when I was twelve. She’d been suffering for a long time and while my dad was sad—he said it was good because her passing meant she was no longer in pain. However, as a pre-teen I didn’t see it that way. I was angry for such a long time. I was constantly looking for someone to blame. I blamed the doctors, nurses, my family… until I realized there wasn’t a single person left to point the finger at. Things like that just happen. Life doesn’t care if it’s being unfair, Trev.”

  “How did you deal with her death? How’d you get better again?”

  She gives me a small smile, her eyes filled with empathy. “You never really ‘get better’ again. Not fully. I’ll always bear a scar—the weight of her death. I just learned to carry it. You go on because you have to. My mother wouldn’t have wanted me to wallow in my sorrow or self-pity. She would’ve wanted me to live, to be happy and accomplish all of my dreams. It took me a while to realize that, but once I did, I moved forward with my life and did everything I could to make her proud.” She looks at me for a moment and then looks back toward Grey. “It’s just like what you’re doing, Trevor. Grey’s your brother’s son, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re doing the right thing. Your brother, Dean, would be so proud of you.”

  I don’t know why, but her words rip me open. My calm demeanor crumbles and I bury my face in my hands, crying like I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. The release feels too good for me to be embarrassed in front of her. While I’ve shed quite a few fucking tears, I’ve never allowed myself to lose control like this. I cry for Dean; I cry for Cat; I cry for my parents; I cry for Grey. With whatever left over energy I have—I cry for myself. I cry because Ronnie is just as broken as I am. I feel her arms wrap around me and she gently brings my head to rest against her chest. She holds me for a moment, but as soon as I hear Grey’s cries, she kisses my head and leaves me to retrieve him. I manage to pull myself together by the time she returns to the couch with him in her arms. I wipe away my tears and turn to find him reaching for me, looking absolutely devastated.

  “I’m sure all the emotion in this room is overwhelming him,” Ronnie says as she hands Grey over to me.

  He stares up at my face as though he was trying to figure out if I was all right. I’ve never seen him look so shaken up and I know he’s never seen me look so fucking devastated. I hold him close and pat his back as I wait for him to settle down from his crying jag. Finally, they turn into faint whimpers; I pull him away from my chest, so I can kiss away a few of the tears from his wet cheeks. “I’m okay, buddy. Everything is going to be just fine. I promise you, Greyson.” He looks up at me with wide, curious eyes and as soon as he sees I’m not crying anymore—a small smile graces his pink face.

&nbs
p; “I’m sorry I broke down like that,” I say, feeling foolish all of a sudden. I fucking hate that she saw me like that, but I love how close I feel to her right now. “I don’t know what the hell came over me.”

  “It’s okay,” she says with a tender smile. “You haven’t had any time to grieve, have you? You’ve been thrust into the role of a parent before you really had the time to say goodbye and grieve your brother.”

  One of the things I love about Ronnie is she fucking gets me. She sees the truth inside of me and understands it more than I do. I don’t have to tell her everything for her to know everything. It’s like we’ve known each other all of our lives.

  “Thanks for telling me about your mom. I know that must’ve been hard for you.”

  “It’s not as hard anymore. It’s personal to me, but you’re part of my life, Trev. I want you to know about my past.”

  “I want to tell you everything, Ronnie. I’ve just got to wait until I’m ready. I just don’t want you to think…”

  “Don’t want me to think what?”

  “I don’t want you to think that I’m fucking weak.”

  “I could never think that.”

  “But you don’t know everything about me. Once you do, you might not look at me the same way.”

  “No matter what you tell me—I know nothing would ever change the way I feel about you.”

  How do you feel about me? I wanted to ask. God, I’d love to tell her that I think I love her. I only say “think” because I’m not sure I really know what romantic love is. Even after all the thought I’ve put into it, it’s still a mystery to me. I want her desperately and I can’t imagine her not in my life… Is that love?