Coming Home

by Priscilla Glenn

  But with Bryan in front of him, everything was suddenly sharp. His impassive face provided the blank canvas for Danny to recreate image after image of his friend—happy, sad, confused, angry, amused—all crystal clear and perfect. Whenever he’d leave after a visit, Danny would always promise himself that this time, he wouldn’t forget. He’d replay the images in his mind like a slideshow as he drove home, trying to commit their clarity to permanent memory. But it was like trying to hold water in his fist.

  He failed every time.

  Bryan’s face was thinner than Danny’s memories, something he’d gradually grown accustomed to, but today his jaw was covered in a light five-o’clock shadow. Gram and the nurses had spent the last year keeping up a steady system of shaving him, cutting his hair, his fingernails.

  Preserving him.

  But no one had shaved him today.

  Dr. Racine approached Gram’s side of the bed, placing his hand on her shoulder. “It won’t be too much longer now,” he said gently.

  Danny straightened as his stomach jolted, sending bile up into the back of his throat.

  No. NO.

  His heart started racing, urging him to do something. Ask them to perform CPR. Beg them to hook the tube back up. Plead with them to restart the drip.

  Don’t. Don’t go yet. Not yet.

  His eyes darted to the monitor above the bed; the nurse had silenced it before she turned the drip off, but he could see the long green line, adorned with miniature spikes—tiny hills that crested with every beat of his heart.

  Getting further and further apart.

  “Come on, Bry. Fight,” he choked out, dropping his head so that his forehead rested on Bryan’s arm.

  And then he heard her voice.

  Gram was singing to him in her soft, ethereal way—the familiar words he’d heard hundreds of times in his life, whenever he or Bryan was restless, or hurt, or sick.

  Or drifting off to sleep.

  He’s my treasure, he’s my joy

  He’s my pleasure, he’s my boy.

  If he ever went away, lonesome I would be

  ‘Cause he’s my angel, my baby.

  Those words had soothed him so many times, but today they rolled off him like drops of rain down the window—fleeting and futile.

  Danny squeezed his eyes shut as a barrage of images assaulted him. Bryan’s life, flashing before his eyes—he wasn’t the one dying, but he could feel it happening. He could see it all unfold, as if Bryan were sharing the last few moments of his life with him.

  Danny under the deck with a broken leg as Bryan held his hand, reciting batting averages with him to help keep his mind off the pain.

  Bryan hanging over the fence of the dugout, shouting and cheering as Danny scored the tying run in their high school’s championship game.

  Danny helping Bryan sneak out of his bedroom window to go meet up with his girlfriend on Valentine’s night.

  Bryan and Danny sitting on his bedroom floor, laughing hysterically.

  Hanging out in the garage, talking into the night under the hood of car.

  Trick-or-treating in their matching Batman costumes, because neither one of them wanted to be Robin.

  Sharing their first beer in the alley behind the grocery store the summer before eighth grade.

  Standing in the middle of the vacant building they’d just purchased, toasting with embarrassingly cheap champagne to the shop they envisioned within its walls.

  And then, two little boys. One sitting on the steps outside his house and the other stopped on the sidewalk.

  “Hey,” he said curiously. “Why are you sitting outside by yourself?”

  The one on the steps shrugged. “‘Cause my mom’s not home.”

  “Oh. Well, when will she come home?”

  The boy scratched his knee. “Dunno.”

  After a few seconds of silence, the other said, “Well…you wanna come to my house? I have a new video game, but it needs two players. My gram doesn’t know how to play it.”

  The boy on the steps looked up. “Um…okay.”

  “Cool. I’m Bryan.”

  “Danny.”

  “Do you have any video games?” he asked as Danny approached.

  “Not a lot.”

  “That’s okay. You can bring what you have next time. We can play every day.”

  And for the first time since he woke up that morning, Danny smiled. “Okay.”

  “You saved me,” he whispered into the sheet, his forehead still pressed against Bryan’s arm. “You saved me, and I didn’t save you.”

  I’m sorry.

  I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

  He gritted his teeth until he felt pain in his jaw, chanting the words like an incantation, until they lost all meaning and form and sounded odd in his ears, like indecipherable words from some foreign language.

  “Time of death, one nineteen p.m.”

  Danny whipped his head up; the monitor was still, the long green line smooth and placid.

  Final.

  Amanda was hugging Gram, rubbing her back gently as she said something in her ear, and Danny felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dr. Racine said. “Please, take as much time as you need.”

  Danny didn’t move as the doctor and the nurse left the room. He didn’t move as Gram tucked the blanket around Bryan, as if she really had just sung him to sleep. He didn’t move as she leaned over and kissed his forehead before brushing his hair out of his eyes.

  “My angel boy,” she said gently. “You always had my heart, and you have it still. It’s how I’ll find you when it’s time for us to meet again.”

  She turned then and gathered her things before walking carefully toward the door. As she passed Danny, she placed her hand on his arm, giving him a feeble squeeze before she continued out into the hall.

  And still, he didn’t move.

  He couldn’t. Not before he memorized all of Bryan’s facial expressions. Not before he committed the images to memory. Not before he was sure he could preserve the exactitude of each and every one. He couldn’t let them fade away this time.

  Because now, there’d be no way to get them back.

  Leah held on to Catherine’s arm as they walked her through the side yard toward her house with Danny supporting her on the other side. She had cried silently on the drive home, the tears trickling discreetly down her face. Every so often she would lift her hand to dab at them with a tissue, but otherwise she didn’t move.

  Leah had checked the rearview mirror frequently throughout the drive, but this time Danny wasn’t looking for her. He wasn’t looking for anything. He sat with his forehead on the window—his glassy, bloodshot eyes staring without seeing at whatever was passing by.

  As soon as they parked in Catherine’s driveway though, he seemed to snap out of it. His expression was guarded, his voice detached, but he was moving and functioning as he took care of Catherine, helping her out of the car while whispering reassuring words to her.

  They helped her into the house, and Danny put on a pot of tea as Leah helped her change out of her clothes. The doctor had prescribed her a small script of sleeping pills for the next few days, and as soon as they all sat down with their mugs, she was asking for one.

  Leah could remember that desperate desire for sleep, the need to disappear into a world that offered some type of reprieve from reality, or better yet, a world where—if you were lucky—you would have the good fortune of seeing the person you missed more than anything. She used to dream of her mother often when she was younger, to the point that sometimes she’d have her pajamas on before dinner was even on the table, anticipating the moment she could close her eyes and find her.

  Danny spent a few minutes reading the label of the pills, checking the warnings and the drug interactions. Leah could see he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of giving them to her, but she also knew that he’d move a mountain with his bare hands right now if she asked him to.
>
  He wasn’t going to deny her, no matter how much he disapproved.

  They sat with her after she had taken the pill, and when she started to fade, Danny lifted her up like a child, carrying her to her bedroom and tucking her in.

  When he came out of her room a minute later, Leah looked up from where she was rinsing their teacups in the sink. His eyes found hers, holding them.

  She turned off the water before drying her hands on the towel. “Hey,” she said softly.

  He slid his hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorjamb of Catherine’s room. “Hey.”

  Leah tossed the towel over the drain board. “Is she sleeping?”

  He nodded.

  She stepped out of the tiny kitchen, stopping just inside the living room, and the way he was looking at her made her feel like someone had punched a hole in her chest.

  God, she remembered that hurt.

  She remembered the feeling of being so lost, she thought she’d never find her way again. The feeling that things were always going to be this bad.

  That she was going to spend the rest of her life trying to be whole again.

  She wanted to tell him it wasn’t true. That eventually, the hurt lessens. That one day he’d be able to think of Bryan and smile instead of curling up in a ball to ward off the ache. That while he’d never get this piece of himself back again, he’d find other pieces to counteract the pain and make it manageable.

  But she knew the words would mean nothing to him now. They meant nothing to her when people said them countless times in those early weeks. They were empty promises, meant to appease, and nothing more.

  Instead, she asked him the one question no one had ever thought to ask her in the weeks that followed her mother’s death.

  “What do you need?”

  Danny took a breath before lifting his eyes to hers. “I need to go home,” he said. His voice was soft but resolute, and Leah nodded before she turned to grab her purse from the couch.

  He was quiet again once they got in the car, and when Leah reached over and placed her hand on his leg, he covered it with his own, prolonging the contact as he held her there.

  As they drove back to his apartment, Leah couldn’t help but think of how many times she’d wished she had the chance to say good-bye to her mother. It had always been one of the things that hurt her the most about the situation—the fact that she was suddenly gone, with no notice or warning. Leah had managed to convince herself that if she had just gotten the chance to see her, speak to her, say something to her before she passed, it wouldn’t have hurt as much.

  But watching Danny today, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Having to say good-bye to someone you love carried its own caliber of pain, and she couldn’t be sure which was worse anymore.

  His hand was still on hers when they pulled up to the curb in front of his building, and Leah turned to look at him.

  “Do you want to be alone?” she asked.

  Danny turned to her, his eyes meeting hers before he shook his head.

  “Okay,” she said gently, and he released her hand as she put the car in park and cut the engine.

  They rode the elevator up to his apartment in silence; Danny’s eyes were trained on the floor as he chewed the inside of his lip, and Leah rested her head on his shoulder until they arrived at his floor.

  He seemed distracted as he opened the door to his apartment, and Leah followed him inside, putting her purse on the entryway table.

  “Do you want me to make you something to eat?” she asked.

  “No,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

  He was standing in the living room with his back to her, and she walked over to him, placing her hands on the sides of his waist as she rested her forehead against the back of his shoulder. After a few seconds, he turned to face her, and Leah lifted her head, looking up at him.

  He stared down at her for a moment before he dropped his eyes, watching his hand as he hooked two fingers in the front pocket of her jeans. She saw him wet his lips, and then he gave a gentle tug, pulling her a step closer as his other hand came to the hem of her shirt, taking it between his thumb and forefinger.

  Danny’s eyes were trained on his fingers as he toyed with the soft fabric, and then his knuckle grazed her belly button as he started pulling it up slowly. When her stomach quivered in response, he glanced up, his eyes meeting hers before they dropped again.

  And then he slid it up a bit higher.

  She lifted her arms out of reflex, and suddenly, her shirt was off. He tossed it somewhere behind her before he hooked his fingers in the front of her jeans and gave her another tug.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of her shoulder as his fingers came to the button of her jeans. She felt it pop open as he exhaled against her skin. “I’m sorry. I just…”

  Leah closed her eyes as she brought her hand to the back of his head. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Take what you need.”

  He made a small sound in the back of his throat as he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “God, how do you do that?” he asked, easing her zipper down.

  “Do what?” she asked softly, running her fingers through the back of his hair.

  “You make it stop hurting,” he said against her skin. “Every time.”

  Leah exhaled as she brought her hand to his chin, lifting his head before she brought her mouth to his.

  He kissed her hard as he pushed her jeans and underwear down over her hips, and she shimmied her legs before stepping out of them. Danny’s hands came to the clasp of her bra, and Leah slipped her hand into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and opening it as she continued to kiss him.

  When she found was she was looking for, she dropped his wallet on the floor and started opening the package, and Danny released her momentarily as his hands came to the buckle of his belt, undoing it quickly. His mouth never left hers as she put it on him, and then he wrapped his arms around her waist and spun them so her back was up against the wall before he reached down and gripped the back of her knee.

  He hitched her leg up and entered her in one smooth movement, and Leah gasped as she wrapped her arms around his neck, using his shoulders as leverage as she held herself up and hooked her other leg around his waist.

  His hands came to the back of her thighs, holding her weight as he pressed her into the wall and rocked into her.

  “Leah,” he groaned, but there was contrition in his voice.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly before kissing his mouth. “It’s okay.”

  He cursed under his breath as he moved against her again, and Leah held on tight as her head fell forward, her cheek rubbing against the scruff on his jaw.

  She was prepared for him to be rough, like the night after the fight at Paddy’s, but after his first few thrusts, the movement of his hips slowed, and his lips on her neck grew gentle. The sudden change in pace caused goose bumps to erupt over her body, and she made a tiny noise of approval before she could stop herself.

  She didn’t want this to be about her. She didn’t want him to be concerned with making her feel good. She wanted him to get lost in her and forget that he was hurting for as long as he could.

  Leah rolled her hips against him, showing him it was okay to take her the way he wanted, but he shook his head, the movement of his hips now torturously slow.

  “Like this,” he said against her mouth. “I need you like this.”

  Her eyes rolled back slightly as she tried to stifle a moan, but the hum of her approval escaped anyway, and he leaned forward, taking her bottom lip between his own as he pulled almost completely out of her. He held himself there for several seconds before he pushed back in, and her head fell back to the wall with a thud as she tightened her legs around his hips.

  Danny pressed his lips to the base of her throat. “Sweet girl,” he whispered against her skin, and then he released one of her thighs as he wrapped his arm around her lower back and turned them from the wall.

>   He walked them the few steps over to the couch before he let go of her other leg, using his hand to support them as he lowered her back onto the cushions. She made a tiny sound of protest when their bodies disconnected, and Danny reached up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head before he lowered himself onto her.

  He slid his arms between her back and the cushions, holding her against his body as he starting moving again, his strokes long and unhurried.

  “I love you,” he said against her neck. “I didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much.”

  “Danny,” she breathed, tightening her hold on him.

  The scruff of his jaw scratched her collarbone as he kissed along her throat and the top of her shoulder. “I don’t want you to ever leave me.”

  “Never,” she said, tilting her head back.

  “I need you,” he said hoarsely. “I need you, Leah.”

  “I’m yours,” she promised. “Always.”

  He lifted his head and brought his mouth to hers, and her hands came to his hair, twining her fingers in it as she kissed him, pouring her promise into it, wanting him to feel the weight of her words, the sincerity of her vow.

  He loved her slowly for as long as he could, but as the sounds began falling from her lips at regular intervals, he lost himself to his desire, gripping the arm of the couch behind her head as he sent her over the edge before he quickly followed.

  And as he lay on top of her with his forehead on her shoulder and his breath hot and fast against her skin, Leah closed her eyes and trailed her fingertips along the vale of his spine.

  “Always,” she said again, because in that moment, she knew she would spend the rest of her life loving him.

  No matter where he was.

  “Stop staring at me. You’re making me nervous.”

  Jake and Tommy laughed as Danny tried to stifle a smile. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just an oil change, and it’s one of our beater cars. You can’t screw it up.”

  “Yes she can,” Jake said. “If she strips the drain plug, that shit’s gonna be leaking everywhere.”

  “See?” Leah said, gesturing at Jake.