by A. S. Kelly
“You’re sure you can take Evan to school?” I ask Martin for the thousandth time.
“I want to help out, repay you for letting me stay here.”
“Maybe that means I’ll actually get there on time today,” Evan interjects, chewing on another piece of bacon.
Martin’s been here for a few days now and, as if by magic, the house is tidy, the fridge is full, and breakfast is even ready and waiting on the kitchen table.
This isn’t the healthiest arrangement – for any of us – and I know I should tell him to go back to his apartment, but it’s so nice and reassuring to have a man in the house that I’ve decided to milk the pleasant family atmosphere for as long as I can.
I give him a kiss on the cheek, and grab my bag and my keys, ready for a new week of clocking in miraculously early. I take one last glance at the only men in my life, joking around in the kitchen as if nothing had ever changed, and I close the door behind me with a heavy heart.
I start the engine and head towards the town centre, relieved for once to have someone around to help, but also sad that it won’t always be like this.
I’m there in fifteen minutes, pulling into the practically empty car park. I walk the few metres that take me to the café, unlock the door and turn off the alarm. I put on some music, to create a more relaxing atmosphere for the customers, then switch on everything I’ll need to make breakfast. I take off my jacket and chuck it in the back, along with my bag, tie up my apron and pull my hair back. I take a deep breath and plaster a big, reassuring smile across my face – the same smile that everyone recognises, the one that greets the customers every morning and makes them choose my café over all the others.
I start to get everything ready for breakfast, waiting for my colleagues to arrive, and make my first – well, second – coffee of the day. While I’m slowly stirring, I glance over at the table I was sitting at yesterday. The same table I shared with Ryan while we ate our lunch.
I still don’t know how it all happened. He was there, standing in the middle of the street, looking disorientated, and I just couldn’t muster up any hate for him, despite our previous meetings. He needed someone to share his silence with and, well, let’s just say that I’m the same.
He was so different from all the other times, so small, so tired. His arrogant spitefulness was clouded by the sadness in his eyes, which weren’t icy like they usually are, but lost, lonely. His beautiful blue eyes – did I say beautiful? Shit. They were so empty that I wanted to throw myself inside them, give them a new, warmer colour, one that wrapped him up.
I tried not to pay too much attention to his shoulders, which filled out his tight shirt, almost making me want to rip it off him. I tried to ignore his lips, soft, inviting, biteable. When he raised his eyes occasionally from the table, his gaze was powerful, probing. His hair was smooth and light, the colour of the sun, tumbling sexily over his forehead. I tried to ignore the quiet thrill between my legs the moment his mouth brushed against the rim of his coffee cup.
Jesus, it would be so amazing…
I shake my head, trying not to think about it. I shouldn’t get all worked up like this here, when I have nothing to distract me from it at home.
Besides, nothing really happened. We had a quick lunch, painless, where no one opened their mouth – otherwise, we’d have ended up at each other’s throat, as always.
I push the thought away into the corner of my mind, and say hi to my colleagues, who are gobsmacked by my punctuality, seeing as it’s Monday.
“To what do we owe the honour?” Vic winds me up, grabbing the coffee out of my hands.
“Martin’s staying at mine.”
Vic literally spits her coffee out over my apron.
“Explain,” she says, her voice hard, drying her mouth on the back of her hand.
“He needed someone.”
“So obviously, you offered him a bed.”
“Vic…”
“Chris, you know I love you, and in some ways I love Martin too, but do you really think this is a good idea?”
“It’s only for a few days.”
“What happened to his super-fit, chiselled boyfriend?”
“He left him.”
“So he thought it would be best to come running back to you?”
“You know that’s not what it’s like. There isn’t and never will be anything between us. As you know, Martin has a soft spot for…”
“Dicks.”
“If you want to put it like that.”
“Just be careful, Chris. I know Martin can be pretty shitty when he wants to be.”
“That’s not true,” I defend him, just as I always do. “Martin’s a good guy, and a good dad.”
“Sure…”
“Oh, come on! I don’t have to justify myself to you,” I snap at her, raising my voice and going to hide out in the back.
Sometimes I hate how well Vic knows me, how much access she has to my most intimate secrets – ones I wouldn’t even tell my own reflection in the mirror. But she’s my best friend, along with my sister, and they’re the only two people that have stood by me through everything that’s happened. Well, I guess my family have been there too, even though it took them a while to accept everything. Besides, it’s not every day that your sixteen-year-old daughter comes home and tells you she’s pregnant.
That’s more or less how it went.
Martin and I have known each other since we were at school. He was in the year above me, but we saw each other a lot for PE classes and school assemblies. It was easy for me to let him in. I was a cheerful girl, always ready to make friends – so, one day, when he sat himself down next to me, I didn’t bat an eyelid before launching into a conversation.
We dated for a few months. We were basically a couple. Martin was, and still is, a really good-looking guy, charming and smooth-talking. The kind of guy that women – and men – go crazy for. He was also an athlete, with a defined physique and an amazing arse. Who would’ve resisted him?
The day he passed his driver’s test he invited me out for a drive in his car. I never thought anything more of it, but that’s how it happened. We had sex in the back seat of his brand-new car; it was the first time for both of us. At the time, it didn’t seem strange to me that he was still a virgin, so I didn’t ask questions. He didn’t really know what he was doing – to be honest, neither of us did – and it was an absolute disaster. I still remember it really well.
About six weeks after our one and only encounter, I found out I was pregnant. I was shocked, terrified of telling my parents, but I knew that he and I could get through it together. I thought he’d stay with me, that we’d get married and live happily ever after, with maybe a few bumps in the road towards the beginning, but nothing we couldn’t smooth over.
We met up behind the playground after school. I sat down on the step and, without looking at him said, plainly: “I’m pregnant.”
His response, after a series of swear words that I don’t want to repeat, was unexpected, to say the least.
“I’m gay.”
It looked like Martin was going through a phase of being confused by his sexuality. He told me he liked me, that I was cute, funny, and he liked being with me, but that I helped him understand that he just wasn’t attracted to women in that way.
“So why the hell did we have sex?”
“Because I wanted to…or, at least, I thought I wanted to.”
I wasn’t really angry at him. I was angrier with myself, for being stupid enough to get myself into this situation alone.
“I won’t abandon you,” he told me. “Just because I don’t like women doesn’t mean that we can’t raise this baby together.”
And I believed him. I really thought we could do it, that we could’ve been a family anyway and that maybe, being close to us, he could love us both one day. I still hope that’ll happen, even though I don’t admit it to anyone. Martin will always be the first man I gave myself to, the first man I ever loved, and most
importantly, he’ll always be my son’s father. I could never stop loving him.
I still love him, but it’s a different kind of love. And until I stop letting him breeze in and out of our lives as he pleases, until I stop comparing every man I meet to him, I don’t think I’ll ever have much hope in finding someone to wake up next to, someone to hold me close for a whole night.
16
Ryan
I peel myself away from the sofa to go and answer the door.
“Who let you up?”
Ian and Nick come through the doorway, uninvited.
“I know the code,” Ian says casually.
Why the fuck did I give it to him?
“Let’s go, put some clothes on.”
“Why should I?”
“Because we’re going out,” Nick responds.
“Why do I have to come with you?”
“Come on, move your arse,” Nick says, flicking off the TV.
“I was watching a film,” I protest.
“Well, you’ve watched enough now. Time for you to come out and get some fresh air.”
“With you two?”
“Do you see anyone else queuing up?”
“Luckily, no.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Why do you always make everything so difficult?” Ian says, losing his patience. “Come on, we’re going out for dinner. The three of us.”
“You must be kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” he steps towards me, menacingly.
“You don’t scare me.”
“I could snap your leg in half,” he threatens.
“I’d like to see you try,” I shoot back.
“Guys, enough,” Nick says, trying to pull us apart.
“Has Mummy given you a time out?”
“He just knows that my brother needs a good kick up the arse.”
“Stop it, both of you! Ryan, get dressed. Now! And you, Ian, grow up…”
Nick’s decided to come back and play the pain-in-the-arse big brother. “We’re going out tonight and I don’t want any more bullshit, from either of you, okay?”
I hold my hands up and step away from Ian. “Okay, got it, I’ll go and get dressed. I hadn’t eaten yet anyway.”
We leave the car in the car park of The Comet, one of the neighbourhood’s only pubs, and we head inside looking for a table.
The place is basically empty. During the week in this kind of pub you can only find the die-hard drinkers, locals who’d rather go out for a pint than sit at home and get pissed.
We sit down and the waitress brings over our menus straight away. We all order a burger and a beer each – except Ian, who’s the designated driver.
“So, what’s with this brotherly night out?” I ask, sipping at my beer.
Ian and Nick glance at each other.
“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, chewing my burger.
Nick clears his throat. “I took Mum and Dad to the hospital a few days ago.”
I immediately forget about my food.
“Things are a bit…”
“Tell me, for fuck’s sake!”
“Ryan,” Ian touches my arm. “He’s getting worse, you know that.”
I can barely swallow.
“He’s going to need help pretty soon.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mum can’t handle it on her own.”
“So what are we here for, then?” I ask, raising my voice. “Didn’t you make us come back so we could help them?”
“I made you come back so that you could be here for his last moments.”
I shake my head, upset.
“Did you know things were getting worse?” I ask, looking at Nick. I can already see the answer etched across his face.
“So you just left me out of the loop. As always.”
“That’s not true.”
“You always treat me like a little kid.”
“We just want to protect you,” Nick says, calmly.
“Protect me? From what? I’m a grown man, you don’t have to lie for me anymore.”
Ian sighs. “I’m sorry. We didn’t want to lie to you.”
“But you always do. Both of you.” I point at them. “You leave me out of anything important, any decisions…you just leave me out.”
“That’s not what we were doing,” Nick intervenes.
“Actually, it’s exactly what you’ve done.” I get up. “You and your ‘exclusive’ friendship…”
“Sit down, Ryan,” Ian holds my arm.
“Look, you see? You’re doing it again.”
“If you just calm down, I promise…”
“You’ve done it, too, Ian. You always try to cover for him,” I say, pointing at Nick.
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
“You wanted to kiss his arse, like you always do.”
“I don’t need someone to kiss my arse,” Nick stands up, too.
“Everyone just sit down and calm down,” Ian growls. “You’re making a scene.”
I look around me, realising that the few other customers are watching us, and probably listening to our argument, which resonates around the half-empty pub.
I sit down, and Nick follows suit.
“I never asked Ian to cover for me,” Nick begins. “I wanted to be the one to tell you, but with everything you’ve been through…”
“Oh sure, you wanted to protect my heart, and not your own arse.”
“Fuck, Ryan! Nick made a mistake. No one’s trying to justify what he did, and you’ll probably never forgive him for it. We know that. But now we have more important things to worry about. We need to make a decision.”
“Haven’t you two already made one?” I ask, my stare icy.
“No,” Nick sighs. “We wanted to discuss it with you.”
I cross my arms and lean my back against the chair.
“Well, that’s new,” I comment sarcastically, hiding my real emotions.
“It’s never too late to make things right,” Nick says, serious now. From the look in his eyes, I can see that he’s not just talking about our family issues.
He’s talking about me and him.
Nick and I had the usual kind of relationship that you find between brothers: we were close, but at a distance. He’s the oldest, and always treated me like his annoying little brother that was constantly running around his feet. But if I ever needed help, he’d come running, without me even having to ask.
When Ian joined our family, our balance was thrown off-kilter. There were only two years between Nick and Ian, they trained together in the school team, and so they had a relationship that I was always cut out from. Ian was an intruder, someone that stole my brother’s affection from me. But, growing up, Ian showed me what a real brother could be: a rock, a shoulder for everyone to cry on. For me and for Nick. And after the first few years, he became the glue that kept us together. It was through him that Nick and I really became brothers, united, a real family. Until the day that Nick destroyed everything.
We grew apart, didn’t speak for years, until Ian forced us to come home. Now, we limit ourselves to brief meetings, always about family issues, or when Ian once needed us, after losing Riley.
And now, Nick’s here, sitting opposite me, asking me to give him a chance. Asking me if he can go back to being the brother I’ve been missing – the brother I’d really like to have back.
But I know that nothing can ever be the same again, because I’m not the same person I once was. That sensitive, fragile boy who everyone wanted to protect doesn’t exist anymore.
He’s been replaced by a man, wild and angry; one who never forgives, or forgets.
17
Ryan
Jamie and I go downstairs into the bar. He decided very democratically this evening that I had to come along, too. I don’t really mind being with the guys, and it’s about time I started to bond with the rest of the team – especially with the coach, who’s decided to take my side.
I know some of them already, the veterans, the ones who started at the same time as me, but most of the guys are young, fresh from the first division. I still haven’t found a way of getting completely involved in the team yet.
We order two beers at the bar then head over to the snooker table, where John and Scott are arguing about who knows their way better around a cue.
I shake my head and sit myself down on one of the stools.
“No way, O’Connor,” Jamie says right away. “You’re not getting out of it that easily.”
“I don’t want to play.”
“You afraid of my stick?” Scott asks, waving the cue at me.
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to handle losing.”
“I could beat you at anything, O’Connor.”
“Sounds like a challenge.” I get off my stool.
“You’re just a little boy,” he says, provoking me. “I could snap you in half with my left hand.”
“Go on, then,” I step closer to him.
“So you can run crying back to your big brother?”
“You piece of—”
“Oh, come on!” Jamie steps between us. “Less chat, more play. Beat each other on the field – or, in this case, on the table. Doubles. Me and you against John and Scott.”
“Mmmm…”
“Let’s show him how it’s done.”
I put my beer down on the side of the table, while Jamie hands me a cue.
He has no idea what he’s up against. Me and my brothers have been playing snooker since we were tall enough to see over the table. He’s got no chance.
We play three matches. They win the first one, but only because Jamie and I wanted to see them gloat before we destroyed them. And in the next two, we do destroy them, much to Scott’s irritation, who can’t stand losing, on the field or away from it.
I walk away to get another beer, with Scott still talking behind me about how he’ll break my leg. I sit right at the bar – sure, I’m here to bond with the guys, but I also need a moment to myself.
I take a few sips, eating handfuls of cashews, when a hand appears in the bowl. I jerk around to see two red lips smiling at me.
