Come Home

by Raleigh Ruebins

  “And that’s why you need to get in my car, now,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you to get home for half an hour. Where’ve you been? The hearing ended at eight.”

  “I needed alone time,” I said. “I holed up in my classroom, which was a terrible choice.” I let out a long breath of air, and finally I relented, turning and making my way to the passenger side of his car. I got in, sitting in the old leather seat and squeezing my eyes shut.

  Caleb slid in on the other side, throwing the car into reverse almost immediately and backing down the gravel driveway.

  “Jesus, in a rush, much?” I asked.

  “I was pretty sure you were going to change your mind and hop out,” he said. “I had to move fast.”

  We drove in relative silence through the night. I didn’t ask where he was taking us. I couldn’t find it in me to care. I just watched the trees rushing past us at the sides of the road.

  A few minutes later, after taking a winding, circuitous route, Caleb had pulled up in front of Zeke’s. He cut the engine, looking over at me.

  “We’re getting you some damn ice cream, champ,” he said.

  “I don’t want it.”

  “I don’t care,” he said.

  He was out of the car a moment later, walking over to the passenger side door to open it for me.

  “You don’t have to get ice cream, but you do have to come inside with me. I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

  “Why not? I would rather be alone than in there,” I said.

  “Because I know you’re going to wallow in self-pity all night if you’re on your own,” Caleb said, lifting an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

  “Of course you’re not wrong. If I wasn’t here right now, I’d already be ten minutes into a hot bath, listening to Sarah McLachlan, crying and staring at the ceiling.”

  He nodded. “Yep. That’s exactly why we’re at Zeke’s.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re treating me like a kid,” I said.

  “And?”

  “Touché.”

  I pulled in a deep breath and finally stepped out of the car. The night air was incredible—in any other circumstance I’d feel like it was the perfect night for a walk along the waterfront.

  And as Caleb and I approached Zeke’s, it became clear that everybody else thought it was a good night for a walk, too. Tons of people were here, gathered outside on the patio as well as crowding the insides. At least half of them were still wearing homemade shirts to protest the bridge project—they must have come here after the hearing.

  “This is gonna be bad,” I muttered to Caleb under my breath, but he kept ushering me forward.

  Once we were inside Zeke’s, the smell of sugar permeating the air instantly changed my mind. Within five minutes, I had my favorite Kahlua ice cream inside a waffle cone, and Caleb was giving me a smug look of satisfaction from behind his lemon sorbet.

  “Hunter Wilson,” someone shouted from behind me. I turned to see Davey Tanfield, still decked out in his protest shirt, his family beside him. He reached his hand up toward me, and it took me a moment to realize he was expecting me to give him a high-five.

  “You rocked it tonight, Hunter,” he said. “Hero of the island, right here.”

  I shook my head. “No, I…”

  “You did great,” he said. His kids were smiling up at me sweetly, like they were seeing a celebrity. I wasn’t going to argue with Davey in front of them.

  “Thanks,” I said, nodding. “I’m headed out, but have a good night.”

  He patted me on the back as I turned to make my way to the front door, Caleb following behind me. But Davey’s attention had seemed to spark a chain reaction—by the time I made it to the door, no less than three people had stopped to clap me on the shoulder, give me handshakes, or otherwise praise me for what I’d said at the hearing earlier.

  “You showed that son of a bitch!” Mark Bennett said to me, with a big smile under his bushy mustache.

  “Thanks,” I said feebly as I pushed through the door, taking a big breath of the night air.

  None of the praise felt deserved. None of it even felt good. I was being praised for something I hadn’t wanted to do, something I truly wished didn’t have to happen. And every time, it was a reminder of Gavin. It stung. Marshall’s words still lingered—I knew that he may not have had the full story, and I wanted so badly to believe that Gavin hadn’t been using me to get support for the bridge.

  But I couldn’t stop mulling it over in my mind.

  I walked back to the car quickly, and Caleb unlocked the doors, getting in on the driver’s side.

  Caleb had known that getting out of the house and going to Zeke’s would be good for me, but he also knew what it was like to need to get away from a crowd. We sat in peace in the front of his car, finishing our ice cream in relative silence. His windows were cracked an inch, and the ambient sound of laughter and chatter floated in from the store.

  This was the level of interaction I needed with the world. Not the acute feeling of being inside. Caleb had put the key into the ignition, but hadn’t turned the car engine on. He just turned the radio to a station that was playing old, forties big band music, and kept the volume low.

  “Caleb,” I said, once we’d finished eating.

  “Yes?”

  I bit my bottom lip. “How do you know when you’re in love?”

  “Oh boy,” he said.

  “Don’t make fun of me. I can’t handle it right now.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not making fun of you. I promise. That’s just… quite a question.”

  I nodded. “When did you know it was true love?” I spoke softly—I knew that it wasn’t easy for Caleb to talk about Claire. “You had so many people in your life, but one was the most special. How does that… happen?”

  He pulled in a breath, holding it before exhaling slowly. “Sometimes it creeps up on you. Other times, it hits you in the face right away. There’s no formula to that kind of thing, I don’t think. There certainly wasn’t for me. Claire was a friend, and then at some point, it quickly became obvious that she was also so much more.” He turned to me, watching me. “You’ve had all kinds of relationships, Hunter. I feel like you fall in love pretty easily.”

  “I thought so, too,” I said. “I’ve had lots of boyfriends, for sure. But I don’t know if any of them were true love. Sometimes I loved them but it wasn’t reciprocated. Sometimes it was the reverse. But either way, something was always a little bit wrong.”

  Caleb nodded. “It was like that with me for a long time, too.”

  “So how do you know when it’s real?” I asked.

  He shook his head slowly, trying to decide what to say. “It’s like… it feels like they’re your best friend, wrapped up in the sexiest person you’ve ever known, wrapped up in… feeling like you’re made for one another.”

  He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. I felt tears welling in my eyes again, and when Caleb noticed them sliding down my cheek, he puffed out a sympathetic laugh.

  “And yeah,” he said. “Love hurts.”

  “It hurts like a bitch,” I said. “Caleb, I… I think I’m in love with Gavin.”

  He watched me for a while, totally quiet. And then, softly, kindly, he spoke. “Duh.”

  My head snapped toward him. “Duh?” I asked, my voice rising an octave. “What do you mean, duh?”

  He reached out, putting a hand on top of mine. “Hunter, you’re my brother. I’ve known you forever. And let’s just say it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize what’s going on with you.”

  I slid downward in the seat, groaning. “Of course,” I said.

  “Gavin’s loved you basically forever. And it took your silly ass all this time to figure it out.”

  “I didn’t even believe you when you told me he’d had a crush on me,” I said.

  “Yeah. For a science teacher, you’re not all that smart,” Caleb said.

  I reached over and punched h
im lightly on his arm.

  “Also, grown men sleeping in the same bed together usually are a little more than just friends,” Caleb said.

  “That’s not true,” I said. “Best friends should be able to share a bed comfortably, regardless of their gender.”

  “Sure, fine, whatever,” Caleb said. “But you and Gavin are in your own little world together. I can see it from a mile away, even if you couldn’t.”

  Caleb was too smart for his own good.

  “So much has changed since Gavin came back,” I said.

  “Don’t I know it,” Caleb said.

  I turned to him again, my brow furrowed. “Caleb. I have to ask you something, and I need you to be as honest as you can be.”

  “Am I ever not honest?” he said.

  “You’re always fucking brutally honest,” I said. “Which is why I’m about to ask you something that I’d rather I didn’t have to.”

  “Shoot,” he said.

  “Do you… think that Gavin has been using me?” I said. “Getting close to me so that I’d support the bridge project.”

  Caleb lifted an eyebrow, puffing out one forceful laugh.

  “Marshall Barrowfield is friends with Royce, who’s on Gavin’s team, and Marshall told me that they called me a ‘golden ticket.’ That if I supported the project publicly, maybe more islanders would see it as a good thing.”

  “And you’re taking Marshall fucking Barrowfield’s word on that?” Caleb said. “Hunter, tell me, when you hooked up with him, did he remove a piece of your brain?”

  “Come on,” I said. “It’s not that crazy of a thing to say. Do you… think Gavin’s been using me?”

  “I can’t believe I even have to say this, because I’m really mad at Gavin right now, and I think the bridge project is the dumbest thing he’s ever done. But there is no world in which Gavin would use you just to get ahead.”

  I was stunned, watching Caleb close.

  “Gavin Bell loves you. He always has. He looks at you like you’re his whole world. He touches you with so much care—even when it’s a small touch, like when he walks past you in a room. I could be running around the room, actively on fire and screaming, and if you were there, he’d focus on you first.”

  I laughed. “Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

  “Yes. But the point remains,” Caleb said. “I can be a little cynical sometimes—okay, a lot—but there isn’t a bone in my body that believes Gavin could even dream of using you like that.”

  My head was spinning.

  “I didn’t want to say anything at the hearing,” I said. “Everyone was surrounding me, forcing me to go speak. But I was so afraid. I was so fucking afraid that everything I’d done with Gavin had been him using me, that I was just another pawn being used for his business interests. And that’s what made me speak up, more than anything.”

  “You did the right thing, Hunter,” Caleb said. “You said what you really believe.”

  “But I hurt him,” I said.

  “You said you don’t support the project, even if you love him. How much more honest could you have been?”

  I stared out the window, watching the trees swaying at the edge of the parking lot.

  It didn’t matter if Caleb was right. The knot in my stomach had come back, full-force, and I couldn’t help thinking that I’d fucked up, royally.

  And that Gavin may never be able to trust me again.

  14

  Gavin

  For all the time I’d lived in Kinley, eighteen whole years as a kid, I’d never spent that much time at the edges of the island.

  It didn’t make sense. I loved the water—few things could make me feel as serene as standing, watching the light waves ripple as I thought about everything and nothing. In Seattle, I spent a fair amount of time looking out at Puget Sound, watching the birds bend and sweep through the gray air above.

  But tonight was the first time I’d actually gone to sit at the shore in Kinley, all on my own. My parents had dragged me here for the occasional picnic growing up, but right now, I was alone.

  The moon was high above, only half-visible, making a hazy halo through a cloud above. Lamp posts dotted the land between the benches. The air and the water smelled cleaner, here. There were none of the traffic sounds and smog that Seattle had near the water.

  Going to the house didn’t feel right. Going back to the cottages wasn’t an option, either—I didn’t want to see Royce and Jack tonight, and I knew they were having whiskeys in some sort of celebration back at the cottages. And I sure as hell couldn’t go to Hunter’s.

  So I sat. I sat at the water, for at least thirty minutes on a small wooden bench, doing nothing.

  And something strange happened, right then.

  For the first time, I understood.

  I understood why so many people might hate the idea of a bridge, might think it would “ruin” the island.

  Because this was an experience that was hard to get anywhere else. Anywhere I went, around the whole perimeter of the island, it would be like this: calm, placid, like a world different from the rest. It felt safe. It felt cozy without being isolated.

  It was silly, when I thought about it. It was the most basic thing imaginable. People didn’t want this beauty disturbed. Kinley, for so long, had been an idea of a lonely childhood, for me. Something I wanted to erase, to change. I’d been so singularly focused on more: on more success, more development, the “gold mine” that Kinley could be.

  And as soon as I’d had the power and influence to actually change the island, I had wanted to.

  For the first time, I let myself sit and enjoy Kinley. Enjoy it like so many residents had, for so long. It felt strange, like trying on someone else’s clothes.

  A young couple was walking toward me on the small footpath. The man was pushing a stroller while his partner held their dog on a leash nearby. Instantly, I was on edge again. These were island residents, after all; they could have been at the hearing, they might scream at me as soon as they walked up.

  And they did recognize me as they approached.

  “You’re him,” the woman said, squinting at me.

  I was silent at first. “I was just about to leave,” I said, starting to get up from the bench.

  She shook her head. “No, no, please stay,” she said. “We ain’t gonna bite. I didn’t get a chance to speak at the mic tonight. Had to take the baby home, it was way too chaotic in there.”

  “It sure was,” I said.

  “I admit, we did boo a few times,” the man said, adjusting his baseball cap.

  “As is well within your rights,” I said.

  “But you should know something,” the woman said, taking another step forward. “We understand that business is business. If you have to build it, oh well. Just please… think of the babies on the island. I want my son to grow up in a place with good schools, resources… parks. Not a smoggy wasteland.”

  I nodded. “Of course,” I said.

  “And I’m sorry for the people who bad-mouthed you in there earlier,” she said. “That doesn’t represent the island. Most people just want to live peacefully.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “That’s all I want, too.”

  They nodded at me and carried on, the sound of the stroller growing quieter as they disappeared down the path.

  I wondered if I would ever have a life where I could do something as simple as what that couple was doing: taking a peaceful walk at night with a future child and a future husband. It sounded so far-fetched to me, at the moment: the only person I’d ever truly loved enough to consider marrying was my best friend, or… perhaps, now, my ex-best friend.

  Every time I thought of Hunter my heart sank deeper in my chest. Tonight still felt like a nightmare. But it was one I knew I wasn’t going to be able to wake up from. How could I ever show Hunter how much he meant to me if he thought I’d been using him? How could I ever prove that I’d loved him forever? And what reason would he have to belie
ve me after I’d spoken to him so infrequently over the past two years?

  I’d failed. The disaster of the public hearing barely registered in my brain, but the failure of losing Hunter was so deep I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  The only hope I had was to keep moving forward.

  I dug my hands in my pockets as I stood up from the bench, and my fingers hit something inside.

  The envelope Marcie had given me. I’d forgotten about it altogether. I pulled it out, turning it over under the light of the lamp beside me.

  I opened it, expecting to find a written letter from her, describing her relationship with my mother. But I was surprised to see that the envelope was stuffed with a few different pieces of paper.

  First, I pulled out something that looked official. As I read, I realized that it was a copy of a police report.

  Disorderly conduct, corner of Hill Street and Auburn Ave, 10:47 P.M.

  I narrowed my eyes, tilting the paper in the light.

  Marcella “Marcie” Luna, female, 25 Y.O. Barbara Bell, female, 26 Y.O. Individuals involved in an altercation on the street. No physical contact reported, but multiple noise complaints filed (see reports A5171 and A5173). Individuals reported to be shouting, disturbing residents and pedestrians.

  Ms. Luna, upon questioning, made the following statement: “Well, first Barb was mad because I told her she’s too crazy to have a baby. It was supposed to be a joke. I told her Kinley wasn’t a good place to raise a kid, that she should move to a suburb of the city. She just doesn’t understand. She thinks she’s so high and mighty, or something, because she is an activist. Then I said the latest bridge proposal was a good sign. That maybe if Kinley had a bridge, it would be easier. I never even said we had to build a bridge. And she acted like I was out of my fucking mind, started ranting about politics. Can I please go home?”

  Ms. Bell, upon questioning, made the following statement: “I’ll have a baby wherever I damn well please. And Kinley will never have a bridge. I protested one as a teenager, and I’ll protest it now. I don’t need anyone telling me how to live my life.”