by Nora Flite
His green eyes found me next; sharp, aware. I tensed, wondering what he might say to me. After the past days of being on the other end of his sour moods, I didn't know what to think anymore.
Nicholas stepped forward, wrapping his one good arm around my shoulders roughly. “I guess I should thank you for carrying my ass up to the truck.”
“It was nothing,” I sighed, deflating in the view of his gratefulness. “I'm just relieved it wasn't worse than it was.”
“I'm such an idiot,” he whispered, a message that seemed just for me. “You and I... we need to talk about everything. I think we have some unclear tension going on. Some stuff to fix.”
Stunned, I pulled back, catching the pure look of regret on his face.
Then it was gone, vanishing in the wake of my father stepping into the room. “Hey guys,” he said, voice terse. “Everyone can calm down, Nicholas will be fine.” He narrowed his eyes at my brother and I, speaking flatly. “He's very lucky.”
“Yeah,” Nicholas mumbled, stepping around us all, heading for the kitchen. “I feel lucky.”
Watching him go, how tight his movements were, I wondered what he meant. My father hesitated, then followed after him, saying nothing more.
Am I crazy, or is that the first time I've ever seen my dad openly disapprove of something my brother has done?
Chapter 14.
By the time we got around to finishing dinner, the vibe in the house had returned to one of jovial cheer.
Nicholas made light of his injury, allowing everyone else to play along and enjoy the evening. It wasn't long before we were all gathered in the living room, sitting together in a circle with the Christmas tree glowing.
Leah was snuggled next to me, her knee touching mine in the most casual expression of affection we could get away with. While my feelings for her, my deep love of the girl, were clear to me, I knew my parents still deserved the respect of not being so openly brazen.
“Now,” my grandmother said, shuffling until she was sitting beside the pile of presents, “it seems a good enough time to finally begin this. I'm sure you're all excited, hm?”
“Yeah,” Nicholas agreed, grinning from where he was reclined against the couch. “I've been waiting all year.”
Our grandmother chuckled, then began handing out packages. Nicholas got his first, then I took mine. Beside me, Leah smiled, leaning in to squint at the wrapping.
Her expression shifted from being intrigued, to becoming uneasy the moment a gift was held out to her. “Here you go, dear,” my grandmother said.
I realized, seeing Leah's furrowed brow, her tense neck, what had just happened.
Oh god, she didn't know she'd be getting anything.
Looking up at me, she gave a silent plea. It was obvious, to me, that Leah didn't want gifts of any kind. Especially when she hadn't seemed to have gotten gifts for anyone else.
I should have told her, why did I think it was obvious?
Bethany received one as well, not seeming surprised in the least. Of course, she came here for Christmas with me, before. She knows the drill.
“Now, go ahead, open them!”
My brother tore the paper away with his one hand. It became easier when it was revealed to be a new shirt, allowing him to grip the cloth and shake it out until the wrapping flew off. “Thanks, Grandma!”
I opened mine easily, paper splitting down the middle with less fanfare. It was no shock I'd been given a similar shirt. “Haha, thanks. Now we can be twins, just like I always wanted.”
Everyone chuckled, their eyes shifting to watch the girl beside me. Leah was sitting still, holding the gift like it was a bomb.
“Go on,” I whispered, “open it up.”
“Yeah,” she said, voice wavering like she'd been holding her breath. “Alright.” Warily, she ripped away the Santa faces, revealing a white box. The cover was lifted gingerly, agonizingly slow. “Oh,” she gasped, lifting out the lavender blouse for all to see.
Smiling, I gathered the trash, handing it off to my father who held a plastic bag. “That's really pretty, Leah.”
“Yes,” she agreed quietly, grinning helplessly at the delighted faces of my family. “Thank you so, so much! I love it.”
Bethany opened her gift last, revealing a set of fuzzy blue gloves. “Thanks a lot, guys,” she laughed, tugging them on.
The evening progressed smoothly from there, though I could sense that Leah was having a hard time accepting the presents from everyone.
I wonder if she's worried they'll be mad about her not getting them anything? My grandparents just enjoy doting on people. They don't mind if they receive anything or not.
“Oh,” my grandmother said, lifting a few more boxes. “Here's a bunch from Deacon.” Carefully, she offered a box to my mother, then my father.
Nicholas, who'd been idly smiling all the while, openly gaped when he was offered a tiny wrapped package. “For me?” He said in disbelief, eyeing me dubiously.
For Leah, I thought sadly. “Yeah, of course,” I managed to say, smiling tightly. “That's for you.”
Leah blinked, looking around as, for the first time since sitting down, she wasn't handed anything. She said nothing, not a peep.
It hurt so much, imagining what she had to be thinking just then.
She got gifts from everyone but me, how else can she take it but to feel terrible?
I feel terrible, myself.
My brother opened the wrapping, staring at the cherry red cell phone. “Wow, a new phone. I uh, I don't know what to say, Deacon.”
Sitting up, he reached out with his one arm, handing me a flat box from under the tree. He passed a similar one to Leah. “Uh, these are for you guys. They aren't brand new phones, but...”
“You didn't need to get me anything,” Leah said, seeming to debate handing it back. Instead, she watched me rip mine open, and followed suit.
Together, we held up the plastic cards. “Haha, you got us gift cards to an art store?” I asked, amused by the thought.
“Yeah, I mean, you guys probably go through supplies pretty quick, I imagine.” Smiling, he tucked the phone away. It was a guilty gesture, but I knew he had no reason to feel badly.
He thought our gifts through, which is more than I can claim.
Leah tucked the card into her pocket, looking uncomfortable. “Thank you so much, Nicholas. I mean, that was... that was really considerate.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Maybe I'm reading too much into that, but I'm guessing she feels worse about not getting anything from me, now.
Shit, what am I going to do?
“There's one here for you, Deacon,” Grandma said, revealing a small envelope I hadn't noticed before.
“Who's it from?” I asked, baffled.
“From me,” Leah said, meeting my surprised expression.
Yes, of course she'd get me something. Life couldn't try and make this any harder for me, could it?
Blushing, I took the envelope, running my finger tips along the crisp sides. Scratching at the sticky part, I peeled it open. I was aware of all the eyes on me, curious about what the quiet girl beside me could have given to me.
I was curious, too.
Gasping, I lifted the thin piece of hard cardboard free. The surface was painted into a wonderful picture of two sparrows, both of them flying across to meet each other.
Between them, Leah had painted a little planet, one side toned dark blue, the other green and bright yellow.
Tingled ran over my spine, especially as I understood how much work she had put into this. How much effort had gone, as well, into hiding it from me.
“I know I seem to keep giving you stuff I make as gifts,” she said suddenly, clearly embarrassed, “but I hope you still like it.”
Shaking my head, I hid it away, as if to keep it our secret. “It's wonderful, I love it, Leah. Thank you so much.”
She chewed at the corner of her mouth, struggling with being please
d and under the spot light.
Nicholas made a soft whistle sound. “That looked really pretty. I'm glad I got you that gift card, now. I feel sort of justified.” He gave a tiny smile.
Brushing back her hair, Bethany spoke softly, perhaps scared to break the mood. “No, seriously, Leah... that looked beautiful. You really made that?”
Her answer was a quick nod.
Everyone seemed unsure what to do next. Gingerly, I set the card on my thigh, holding it protectively.
She made this, for me. Now the fact I got her nothing, did nothing, looks even more horrible. Good job, Deacon. Gold star boyfriend, for sure.
My dad cleared his throat, reaching over and clapping me on the shoulder tightly. Looking up, I saw the socks in his hands. “Thanks son, I needed these.”
“As always,” my mom laughed, grinning at me with her new coffee mug in hand. “But yes, thank you, Deacon.”
Clapping his hands together, my grandfather stood up, helping to gather scraps of paper to stuff in the garbage bag my dad had been hoarding. “Alright then, let's get something sweet into everyone, what do y'all say?”
Bethany nodded eagerly, standing in one smooth motion. Leah emulated her, rising above me and dusting off her knees. “That sounds great, actually.”
Groaning with a yawn, feeling burned out from waiting for that moment to have come and gone with the gifts, I wished I felt more relieved. It was over, in a sense, but there was no way Leah wasn't hurting from being left out.
I'll tell her... something. I don't know. Maybe I can still come up with a gift in time.
My knees creaked as I straightened up. Holding the envelope tight, I moved to follow everyone out of the room. Before I could, Nicholas reached out from where he was sitting, grabbing at my arm.
“Come on,” he said, motioning me with his one good hand towards the door. “Let's go for a walk.”
Opening my mouth, I fought down the urge to argue against him.
He's right. I can't fix my mistake with Leah right now, anyway. Perhaps I can still try and mend one of my missteps tonight.
Setting the envelope containing the painting my girlfriend had done onto the living-room table, I grabbed my jacket and followed my brother out into the cold.
****
It was freezing outside, made worse by the darkness of the December night. There was no moon to be seen, the thick clouds roiling so close I thought I might reach up and touch one.
That snow really wants to come down.
Walking beside my brother, I followed him across the crunching ground, moving further from the lights on the house.
Part of me wished we'd found a way to have this conversation inside. Yet, recalling how similar it felt to the other night, when I had shoved him hard in a fit of rage...
Being out in the cold seemed fitting.
“It'll probably start anytime,” Nicholas said.
“Hmn?”
“The snow.” He gestured upwards with his chin, slowing his steps until he came to a halt. Looking around, digging my gloves into my pockets, I noticed where we were.
In the dark, the tire swing looked more ominous than nostalgic.
“Remember this thing?” I asked, smiling at the ring of rubber. “Dad used to push us on this all the time.”
“He pushed you,” Nicholas corrected me, not hiding the sour note in his voice. “The only person who actually swung me on this was Grandad.”
Frowning, I looked my brother over. In the dim light, his face seemed drawn; older, pale and frail. “I think... I think I pushed you on it, too.”
His green eyes found me, unchanging. “Did you? I think I remember that, actually.”
“I'd tell you stories,” I went on, reaching out to touch the old, rough rope. “Make you pick a directions to go on your adventures, that sort of stuff.”
“Yeah,” he mused quietly. “Yeah, I remember that now.”
How much of our childhood has been erased by the bitter years of growing up? Wondering, I built up the courage to finally break into the real meat of our arguments. “Nicholas, listen, what you've been saying to me... stuff about forgetting you, removing you... I've been trying to figure out what you meant. Trying to understand it.”
“And do you?” He didn't blink, his body stiff and still.
“It's—it isn't easy. But I think I'm starting to get it.” Biting my lip, feeling the cracks from the dry winter air, I sighed. “When I saw how Dad spoke to you today, when you got back from the hospital... it made me wonder if I'd ever seen him snap at you before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I could feel how disappointed he was with you.” Meeting his curious gaze, I saw his flicker of confusion. “It's the way he's been with me my whole life.”
“So, you saw him get pissed at me over doing something pretty stupid.” Shrugging, he dug his boot into the ground.
Inhaling deeply, I gave the tire swing a squeeze. “I'm trying to explain this. The root of everything, Nicholas. I think I get it now, because of that.”
I think I do finally understand.
My brother had made a small hole in the earth before he finally looked up at me. “Tell me that you understand why you've been so awful to me, subconsciously or not, our whole lives.”
“It wasn't our whole lives,” I mumbled, giving the swing a shove. It spun, creaking on the thick branch above. “It was only after I started to see the way Dad was disappointed in me. Once that began... when the divide of not living his life how he wanted me to started up... that was when he began focusing on you.” It was hard to look at Nicholas as I spoke, to see the disbelief in his emerald orbs. “That was when I started to become jealous of you, I guess.”
“Jealous of me?” He spat, laughing dubiously. “You're kidding! Deacon, I've been trying to get you to just respect me as a person as long as I can remember. You never acknowledged me, never told me I was good at anything. I was struggling forever to get good grades, working hard to impress everyone. And there you were,” he said, rubbing his good hand through his hair. “There you were, naturally just good at everything.”
“Everything except getting Dad's approval,” I responded, my lips making a hard line. “Everything except getting the girl I loved to love me back. But you, Nicholas, you got both of those things.”
He stared at me, gawking. Guilt I had never seen turned his neck crimson, matching his nose from the cold. “I didn't—I never—”
“It isn't something to feel bad over,” I said quickly, taking a step closer to him. “It was never... I never even knew how bad it bothered me. Not till now, anyway. I'm pretty stupid not to understand what I was doing to you, aren't I?”
Nicholas was silent, taking in the sight of me like he was seeing me for the first time. Then, a small grin broke across his face. It was as breakable as glass, but it was there. “Yeah, you're a bit stupid, I guess.”
Laughing, I tilted my head back. Something cold bit my skin, causing me to look into the heavy clouds above.
Touching my face, I felt the drop of wetness. “It's starting to snow.”
“Finally,” he said, looking up as well. “It took long enough.”
Yes, I thought curiously, some things take time, I guess.
Together, we watched the flakes of white begin to tumble down. They were soon filling the air; a beautiful, if haunting sight.
Shivering, I hugged myself hard, looking back into his eyes. “Nicholas, listen. I'm really sorry about everything. That night, I got so angry—that isn't me, I don't... I didn't...”
“It's nothing,” he said, shrugging like he meant it. “A little bit of rough housing. Who doesn't get angry from time to time?”
Me, I don't want to get angry like that. Not in front of Leah... not at all. Ever.
“By the way,” he said, reaching into his pocket. In his palm, he held a red cell phone, snow flakes trying to alight on the surface. “What was this all about?”
“What do you mean?” I asked,
flushing nervously at the reveal.
“I mean,” he scoffed, arching an eyebrow. “What's the point of giving me the gift you were going to give your girlfriend?”
My amazement was obvious. “How did you...”
“Unlike you,” he grinned, “I'm not so stupid. Come on, I did go with you to the store that day. This wasn't meant for me, was it?”
“No,” I admitted, hanging my head sheepishly. “No, it wasn't.”
When he tossed it to me, I almost dropped it on the damp ground. “Give it to her, I don't need it. I haven't seen her with a phone, though, so maybe she could use it.”
Unsure what else to do, I stuck it in my coat pocket. It was hard to believe that the tension between my brother and myself was fading away, melting like the new snow.
I moved quick, wrapping him in a sudden, hard hug. He made a small noise of surprise, his good arm pinned to his side. “Deacon, come on, it's not that big of a deal.”
“I'm not hugging you because of the phone, idiot,” I said quietly, shutting my eyes.
Nicholas went tense, then limp against me. For a long moment, we stood there, embracing by the tire swing that hung silently in the night.
How could I not notice, for all these years, that I was jealous of him. He just wanted me to see him, to respect him, and all I gave him was indifference. Or worse, animosity.
Letting him go, I stepped back, noticing how uncomfortable he looked. It made me smile; made me feel, for once, like an actual older brother. “So,” I said, drawing the word out. “You really love that girl, do you?”
He didn't hesitate, his eyes razors on me. “Yes, I do. I really do.”
“You guys look good together.”
“Deacon, you really don't care about the fact that her and I...?”
“No,” I shook my head, smiling lightly. “I want you to be happy, and... I'd like Bethany to be happy, too. I could never be the person to her that you are, I just didn't understand that. Not till recently.”
“What made you realize that?” He asked, tilting his head. He asked the question as if he knew the answer already.
