by Cara Dee
Because…because… Someway, somehow, he had to be part of what I called home. I couldn’t do this anymore, the hiding, the running away.
Something was seriously fucking wrong with him, though. I'd been reeling all day from seeing him earlier. Matt had barely been able to get a word from me because I'd been so distracted.
I wondered if my heart had permanently lodged itself in my throat.
Looking at Will now, all my protective instincts came rushing back as if they'd never left. Physically, he'd been able to hold his own and then some. Few dared to fuck with him when we were younger. The heart he wore on his sleeve was another story, and I could see he was hurting like a motherfucker.
He'd changed a shitload. I couldn’t call him skin and bones, but he wasn’t far off. His forehead was creased in worry, his pale slate eyes were accompanied by shadows, and he didn’t have a beard 'cause it was trendy. He'd stopped shaving for some other reason.
I was supposed to be the unkempt bastard. He was the guy in Oxford shirts.
Coming back here because it was home—and to make amends—kinda flew out the window. I needed to know what was going on with him.
"I'm the new Keeper." I threw that out there to see if I could get him to talk.
"I figured, what with you staying on Little and all," he drawled.
Right. "Do you remember I talked about being—"
"I remember pretty much everything from back in the day."
Right in the gut.
"Will." I grabbed his arm, and the way he flinched made me recoil. "What the fuck, man?" I wasn’t a damn leper. I knew I'd fucked up royally that last summer, but he had to consider the fact that I'd been a kid. Confused, young, pissed, and scared outta my mind.
"William has a bright future ahead of him. You know that, right?"
I stared back at Mr. C, Will's dad, and hoped my buddy would come downstairs already. "Yeah, I know."
Mr. C nodded sharply. "Good. He can't afford any distractions when you're off to college. He'll need to focus on his studies."
I snapped out of the memory before it could get worse.
Will blinked rapidly a few times and kept his eyes fixed on the main island. "I want to know what you think this means—your being back. What're your plans, what do you expect, where do I fit in, etcetera."
I huffed, frustrated, and ran a hand through my hair. "Look, can we sit down and talk? I feel like you're one second from bouncing."
"I'll be on my way as soon as you answer my questions," he confirmed. When he rubbed his jaw, I caught sight of a wedding band on his finger, and it made me avert my eyes.
You knew this was a possibility.
"You're married." I didn’t know why I had to say that shit out loud. I didn’t need another confirmation.
He looked at me questioningly, then eyed his ring and nodded once. "Wife, two kids, house, the whole nine yards."
How perfectly Will. I bet his folks were proud. "Makes sense." And it did, though the words tasted bitter. It had never made sense for him to plant one on me that night. Going off to college, meeting a nice girl his folks approved of, and starting a family did.
Would he laugh at the irony when he found out I was the one who ended up being gay?
I hadn't laughed when I didn’t have an ounce of denial left in me. I'd tortured myself for years, and when I'd started considering moving back here, I'd kinda hoped I wouldn’t be alone. Not necessarily in a romantic way; I wasn’t so arrogant as to believe my feelings would be reciprocated. Just…having someone to talk to, someone who could relate. I guessed that was a no-go if he had a fucking wife.
"I have a kid, too."
He looked surprised at that. "You do?"
"Why's that so weird?" I furrowed my brow. He wasn’t the only one who could raise a child. For being a single parent, I thought I was doing a decent job.
"It's not." He frowned. "I haven't thought about it, that’s all."
Fair enough.
This was better. Tense and ridiculous, but better than waiting for him to bolt. It was as good a time as any to tell him our boys were getting to know each other.
I'd dodged a bullet earlier when I found out Matt and Brady had discovered they were both named after each other's dad, though I wasn’t sure now was a good time to bring that up to Will. To Matt, I'd made it sound like the most natural thing. Friends named their kids after each other all the time. No biggie. For Will, it probably wasn’t. I think.
Actually, it was a mind-fuck. He was supposed to be angry at me for bailing and throwing a goddamn fit for a little kiss. Instead, he'd given Brady my name.
"Boy or girl?" Will asked.
"Boy. Matt." I looked behind me, up toward my cabin. I was only supposed to be gone for ten minutes to make sure everything was in order in the bay. "He and your son have been talking."
"What do you mean?" Will was instantly guarded.
I didn’t get him.
"They're around the same age." I narrowed my eyes. "Is that a problem?"
He was stuck. If he told me yeah—which was obviously what he thought—then he owed me an explanation.
"Your son is eighteen?" Pussy.
"Sixteen," I replied flatly. "Seriously. You mind if our kids become friends?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, I don’t mind—damn it, Kelly."
"What!" I threw out my arms. "Jesus Christ, when did you become a riddle? It's impossible to get a straight answer from you, you sack of—"
"Lissa doesn’t know about you," he spat out.
I tensed up and folded my arms over my chest. "Your wife?"
He nodded stiffly.
My mouth opened, only to snap shut as I processed. Nineteen years. We'd been attached at the hip practically since the day we were born. It was okay that it hurt to find out those years had been erased, right? What in the actual fuck? Here I thought married people shared stuff like that. Here I thought we had meant more.
"Don't take it the wrong way—"
"And what way would that be?" I got heated and just barely managed to keep from snapping.
He stared at the water, the soft waves sloshing and splashing against his boat. "It's been twenty-four years, Kelly. I don’t know what to say that won't turn this into a therapy session."
"Pretend I'm your shrink, then. Just tell me."
"No, thank you, I already have one." He shook his head grimly. "I need to process this and come up with a solution." He side-eyed me. "Can you promise not to do anything stupid and give me some time?"
Translation: don't do anything Kelly-like and go near my wife.
"On one condition," I said. Fuck if I was letting this go. He'd dropped enough bombs. Something was wrong; he had a shrink, looked like shit, and admitted to hanging on by a thread. I demanded answers sooner or later. "Give me your number, and when I text you, you gotta answer."
"Are you a child?" he asked irritably.
That was sorta funny. I shrugged and scratched my nose. "Those are my terms. I was a dick when we were kids, I'm a dick now. And arrogant enough to think I might be able to help you."
The fight seeped out of him, if only a bit. He looked exhausted. "I don’t need any help."
"Yeah… Try selling that bullshit to someone who believes it, buddy."
"Christ, you're as stubborn as ever." He looked away and grimaced, then pulled out his phone from his pocket. "Give me your number."
I rattled off my digits.
"Forty-seven…" His forehead wrinkled, and I repeated ninety-six. "Thanks. My memory—I forget."
He was depressed.
That was it, wasn’t it? I'd been there. Holy fuck, had I been there, and if that was what Will was going through, my resolve to find a way to help only strengthened.
My phone vibrated in my jeans, and now I had Will's number. I'd be using it frequently to reconnect with my best friend. Whatever happened twenty-four years ago, I had to believe we could work shit out.
"All right, I'm going home."
He slipped his phone back into his pocket, refusing to look me in the eye.
"Hey, Will?"
He sighed heavily and faced me like it was the biggest chore. Or maybe he feared I could still read him so well.
"It's good seeing you." I meant that more than I could say.
Will's guard was all but stripped away, leaving a heavy blanket of weariness. He needed to leave, and I understood that. He wasn’t ready to confide in me; I understood that, too.
He nodded with a dip of his chin and returned to his boat.
Before long, I couldn’t even hear the engine anymore, but I stayed for a while, gathering my thoughts. Making plans.
*
The next day, it was pissing down, and the camp counselors stopped bringing kids over after lunch. It gave Matt and me the day off, and considering there wasn’t much to do and we had no Wi-Fi, I took him to the mainland for the day.
I was getting the hang of this, being on the water so much again. Like riding a bike.
After jogging from the marina to the parking lot, our hoodies were only a bit damp by the time we got in the truck.
"You're texting someone who's making you smile like a loon, kiddo. Someone from Texas or here?" I bit into an apple and held it there as I pulled outta the lot.
He'd been on his phone all morning.
"From here." Matt tucked it away to stare out the window. "Quit spying on me."
I almost snorted my apple.
He turned to me with a strange expression. "What is it with you and apples? You've been eating them by the bushel since we got here."
I yanked said apple out of my mouth and took a left after the lights. "What the fuck is a bushel?" I shook my head. "It's Washington in the summer. Best damn apples in the whole country."
He chuckled. "You're weird."
I smacked my lips at him.
*
Heading down to Cedar Valley, we drove around until we found a casual restaurant we could hang out at for a couple hours that had Wi-Fi. My son wanted to check in with the friends he'd left behind in Texas, as well as continue his job search. I had to look for a place for us to call home when the summer ended.
We ordered fries and shakes to begin with, and then we disappeared into our phones. Which I bet looked despicable from the outside. A dad and his boy having a meal and not uttering a word to one another. I hated seeing that; in fact, I wasn’t big on social media, preferring socializing in person. That said, Matt wasn’t the only one who wanted to connect and reconnect, and Facebook was a good way to get back in touch with old buddies.
So I dusted off my ancient account and managed to track down the Grady brothers and a handful of others I'd either gone to school with or spent summers with on the islands.
"Don't drink too fast." I waited for Matt to get a brain freeze from his shake.
It came, and he winced and rubbed his forehead.
Too fucking cute.
We were sitting by the window, and I'd ended up in the perfect spot to see teenage girls gawk at Matt as they entered. He, of fucking course, was oblivious. I was waiting for the day he came home with his first girlfriend.
Returning to my phone, I took the opportunity to send Will a text.
Did you ever become a doctor? I need to know if I should call you Doc.
Then I grinned when I received a message on Facebook from Adam Grady.
I guess we can be BFFs here. Trying to plan a guys' night soon. Our folks just left to spend a year in South America. We're going to tear up their house!
I chuckled and shoved a few fries into my mouth. He and I went back and forth a while, and I learned his parents had retired and moved up to Ponderosa.
Alex, the eldest brother, was house-sitting for them, and before Adam logged off, we decided we should get together up there on Saturday.
I'd do my damnedest to make sure Will came, too.
"Can I get more fries, Dad?" Matt asked.
I glanced up, then at the menu over the counter. "You don’t want a burger instead?" We'd talked about catching a movie later, and we wouldn’t be ordering anything nutritious there.
He wanted fries, though. He was usually good about food, so I let it slide. I handed him five bucks as my phone dinged.
There was an extra thud in my chest when I saw it was Will.
I didn’t. I'm a special education counselor in Ponderosa. That’s a random question, Kelly.
Special education, and he worked with kids—or I assumed, since there was no higher education than high school up there. That was interesting. I looked out the window, thinking back to when we were kids ourselves. Yeah, I could see it. He was caring, pedagogical, and always looking to help out.
I replied.
You confuse random with trying to get to know you. What do you do as a special education counselor? I know the gist.
This time, he responded faster.
I work with younger children who have cognitive disabilities, primarily autism and Down syndrome. Why do you insist on getting to know me again?
Because I never should've left in the first place. This was me, needing a second chance.
Sounds incredible. Bet you're great at it. Ignoring your stupid question because it's obvious. Any plans this Saturday?
"I took a quiz to find out 'How Washington' I am," Matt said, snickering. "I got twenty-nine percent."
I chuckled. "The internet gods have spoken."
He grinned. "I have to get to know my new state, right? Brady sent me the link as a joke."
"He did, huh?" I set down my phone and rested my forearms on the table. "I didn't know you'd exchanged numbers."
Matt lifted a shoulder. "It was his idea. He invited me to a bonfire next weekend. Can I go?"
"Absolutely." It was only a relief that he was starting to get to know people and make new friends, and I trusted Will to have raised a responsible kid. "I have plans on Saturday to catch up with some buddies and you're welcome to come, or you can stay on the big island with Brady and his friends. But I'm not comfortable with you being alone on Little that late."
He nodded. "We'll work somethin' out. Thanks." He hesitated. "I wasn’t sure if it was a sore topic."
"What, you hanging out with Brady?"
"No, just…everything about that Will dude." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don’t know what to do with my questions. You're chill enough about the gay thing now, but you're weird about Brady and his dad."
I was a dick. A dick who had caused Matt to tiptoe around the subject.
He chewed on his lip, thinking, and dragged a fry through a puddle of ketchup. "I'm trying to remember all the times you mentioned 'a buddy and I did this,' 'a buddy of mine and I used to…' It was all Brady's dad, wasn’t it?"
"You don’t have questions, Matthew." I leaned forward and gave his hand a brief squeeze. "You want confirmation, and I should've manned up sooner."
"Well…" He averted his eyes and laughed quietly, then lifted his brows at me. "I have my guess."
"I'm sure it's dead on." I leaned back again and managed a smirk. "And yeah, most of it has been about Will."
I guessed, in more ways than one, names had faded because Washington had belonged in the past for so long. In Will's case, it was 'cause I was dealing with my own shit. Shame, denial. And in some matters, it was about cutting a childhood memory's length in half by skipping introductions of people Matt would never meet anyway. There had been no relevance in sharing names.
That had changed.
I saw a new message from Will but stayed focused on Matt. "There were a few of us. Will…stood out."
Matt nodded slowly. "Do you think Grandma would've been angry? If she knew, I mean."
"About me?" I asked, and he nodded again. "I don’t know. I don’t think so. She was traditional, but she didn’t hate or judge." No, my issues came from outside my immediate family, small as it was. "Anything else? What did you and Brady really talk about?"
"Not much, I swear." He poured way too much
salt on the fries. "He was kinda secretive. I don’t know. It's confusing. Don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't exactly cared who you grew up with."
I laughed at that, and who the fuck could blame him? I wouldn't have cared, either. If my mom had begun talking about her childhood and the people she went to school with, I couldn’t say I'd be listening intently.
"Then we come up here," he continued, "and some guy tells me our dads named us after each other, all dramatic-like. I get the feeling it's a bigger deal for Brady, is all." He shrugged. "He said something's been going on with his dad for years."
That ended my fun.
I had to know what was going on with Will.
"Will and I have some things to work out," I said, choosing my words carefully. It was one of the few things I had no plans on revealing—how my friendship with Will had come to a stop—because, frankly, I didn’t see the point. It was nothing my son had to know—or be concerned about.
"You've told me you had a falling out."
I nodded. "Something like that."
He pursed his lips. "He didn’t think you were gross for being gay, did he? I can leave dog shit on his porch."
My instinct was to laugh, though that quickly changed to the feeling of being sucker-punched. I was the one who had lashed out at Will, not the other way around. I deserved the dog shit.
"No." I cleared my throat, oddly flattered by his offer to defend his old man, but the queasiness lingered. The reality of what had happened over twenty years ago wasn’t funny. "I wasn’t out then, remember?" Matt was the first one I told, and it wasn’t more than a few years ago.
"Oh, right. Well, that's good." He was over the conversation, glancing at his phone. "People can be dicks. I just wanted to make sure."
I smiled ruefully and took a sip of the shake. How in the hell had I ended up with a kid that smart?
"I mean, you're still weird," he added absently, his phone getting more and more of his attention. "Girls have boobs."
I snorted but didn’t comment. He was lost, anyway. Whomever he was texting with was more interesting, so I turned to my phone, too. And Will's message.
It's not a stupid question. I think I'm going to a barbecue.
Damn it.
I stewed on that for a while. He had plans. I should be patient and simply aim for another day. Except, I couldn’t. I wasn’t that good. I wanted to see him soon, and I wasn’t above playing unfairly. I sent him another text.
