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Porter pops the cap. “Nah. It’s all good.” He takes a swig from his beer. “Stout didn’t say anything about you being in town.”
“That’s because he didn’t know.”
Porter’s eyes narrow and his forehead wrinkles. He’s a smart guy. Let's give him a minute and see if he figures it out on his own.
He looks at the spread of food, Wren, Stout, and, lastly, me. “Motherfucker. You did exactly what I said you would. And judging by Stout’s calm demeanor, you’ve pulled it off successfully.” He makes it sound like a bit of a heist. Is he smiling?
There was some thievery involved. Wren stole my heart.
He’s quiet. Digesting the situation, Porter?
“Well, congratu-fucking-lations.” He holds up his beer. “I propose a toast.”
I’m a little taken aback by his reaction. I thought he’d give me a harder time.
I’m actually thinking Porter has already moved on. He was protective of Wren, but not possessive.
The four of our bottlenecks meet. “You know you’ve found true love when you catch yourself falling in love with the same person over and over again despite them being miles away from you.”
We tap our bottles. “To Lucas and Lawrence. Break her heart and I’ll break your fucking neck.” That’s more the response I was expecting.
“Your toast was Pulitzer Prize worthy.”
“You like that shit, huh? I have to make a toast at my cousin’s wedding in a couple of weeks. I’ve been preparing.” I guess that explains the pretty words out of Porter.
Wren comes to stand between my legs and I wrap my arms around her waist. I can’t resist burying my nose in her hair and inhaling. Love her smell.
Porter looks at Stout. “You’re okay with this?”
Stout shrugs. “Sure. But what choice do I have?”
“You okay with this?” Porter’s approval and support isn’t necessary but I’d like to have it.
He shrugs. “I’m good if Stout is.” Thank, fuck.
No more lies.
No more deceit.
No more sneaking around.
No more pretending.
Everything is finally coming together for Wren and me.
Lawrence Thorn
I’m trapped in some half-awake, half-asleep realm within my mind. My body shakes because I’m sobbing so hard. Half asleep or not, I’m alert enough to know that much. As hard as I try, I can’t open my eyes. And I’m unable to escape the monsters until I do.
“Wren.” My body is being shaken but my eyelids refuse to obey my brain’s command.
If you open your eyes, Lawrence, your dolly goes in the garbage.
“Wren.” Brou is hovering over me when I finally open my eyes. The room is dark except for the dim light of the lamp next to my bed. “Wake up, baby. You’re freaking me out.”
Warm tears roll from my eyes into my hair and mucus rattles in my nose when I inhale. There’s a spasmodic contraction in my throat as I catch my breath. Damn. I was crying in my sleep again.
“What was that?”
I look around so I can get my bearings. This is my apartment in Savannah. My bedroom. Brou is with me. This is his weekend to come to me. I’m not in that trailer park where they can hurt me. “It was just a dream. Nothing’s wrong. I’m good.”
“Don’t push me away, Wren. We’re more than this.”
I don’t want this. I don’t want to talk about the things they did to us. I want to forget the first ten years of my life ever happened.
“Talk to me, baby. Tell me what’s going on.” He won’t understand. He didn’t grow up like I did.
“It was a nightmare about my birth mother.”
“Tell me about it.”
My childhood makes me feel ashamed. Embarrassed. I don’t know why. None of it was my fault. They are the ones who should be ashamed of what they did.
“You can tell me.”
I scoot close to Brou and press my face to his chest.
“When we were kids, Santa didn’t exist for us.” Those words alone make me want to cry. “Christie and Jimmy were always broke from buying drugs and too lazy to go sign us up for the angel tree at the mall. That meant Ollie and I didn’t wake up on Christmas morning and have presents to open like other kids.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“But there was this one Christmas when someone left each of us a present on the front porch.” I’d never been so happy in my life. I still don’t know who it was. “We thought we’d finally been good enough for Santa. Ollie got a fire truck with all the bells and whistles and I got a beautiful doll with long blonde hair I could brush. I named her Alexis. God, I loved that doll so much. Christie knew that so she took her from me, nailed her on the wall, and told me when I learned to be good she’d let me have her back.”
Brou swears beneath his breath. “That was so cruel.”
“I would sit in a chair and stare at Alexis on the wall. Sometimes I would push the chair up and try to touch her while Christie was gone but I could never quite reach her.” I think she did that on purpose. Hanging her just barely out of my reach.
Brou reaches for my hand and brings it to his mouth for a kiss.
“I did everything Christie wanted, believing she would give me back my doll if I was perfect. But that didn’t happen.”
I inhale deeply before I begin the next part of the story. “One of her dealers came by to collect money she owed for drugs. Of course, she didn’t have it. That’s when she told me there was a way I could earn my doll back. All I had to do was be really nice to Malcolm and play some games with him. I was only ten but I knew what she meant.”
Brou squeezes my hand and brings it to his forehead. “Nooo.”
“I heard this inner voice telling me to run. Get out right then because something bad was going to happen if I didn’t. So I did. I ran and ran and ran. When I came back, Christie put me in the corner, took my doll off the wall, and made me watch her cut all of her hair off and draw on her face with a marker. That’s what I was dreaming about. Her and Alexis.”
Brou pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. “I’m so sorry that happened, and I’m so sorry it still haunts you.”
“Thank God we were taken out of the home within a couple of days. But not before I told Jimmy what she did with Malcolm and what she wanted me to do. He beat her to a pulp, so bad she could hardly walk, and I was happy about it.” I wish I could say Jimmy was acting as a protective father but I’d be fooling myself. It was probably more likely he was angry because Christie got dope and didn’t share it with him.
“I’m not sure how you ever considered giving that woman a kidney. It makes absolutely no sense to me.” Most people would think I was out of my mind.
“I didn’t stop hating them because they earned my forgiveness. It was about me and the peace I deserved. Hate is exhausting. Everything became easier when I decided to accept the apology they never gave me.”
“You are an amazing woman.”
“Not amazing. Therapized.” Years of it.
“Bridgette went to therapy after we lost Eli. I could never bring myself to do it.” Most men tend to see a need for therapy as weakness. Dumbasses. Thank God Ollie was too young to refuse.
“You should have. It can facilitate some serious healing.” I can’t imagine what my life would be like today if Mom and Dad hadn’t taken me to Iris. They saved Ollie and me in more ways than one.
The healing wasn’t instantaneous. Iris began by sweeping my broken pieces into a dustpan. But she didn’t throw them away. She carefully laid them out, cleaned each, and began a long process of matching them together like a puzzle until she finally showed me how to become whole again. Or for the first time. I was never whole while I was with Jimmy and Christie.
I w
as so timid with Iris in the beginning. Well, all grownups in general. But I developed a faith in adults for the first time. Learned to trust in truth. Accept love from parents without manipulation. I couldn’t have been a joy to parent or counsel in the beginning. But they never gave up. And still haven’t.
“It’s never too late to see a therapist.” I really think Brou could benefit, even ten years after losing his son.
“Nah. I’m good.” Figures.
Therapy or not, Brou’s still spectacular. “What about you, the husband who gave his wife a divorce so she could be with the man she loves? And then remains their best friend who dotes on their children. That’s pretty amazing.”
“I never felt like I had to forgive them for anything. It was more like a relief for me. Nothing honorable about it.”
I twist to see the clock. “We have to be up in a few hours. Want to try to get a little more sleep?”
“Yeah. I need to be on top of my A game for meeting my girlfriend’s parents over breakfast.”
“You know my parents and they already like you. A lot.”
“I know Libby and Quentin as Oliver Thorn’s parents, but not as my girlfriend’s.”
“You financially backed their son’s dream. I think you’re golden with them no matter what you do.”
“This is different; I’m staying at your apartment. They’re going to know I’m getting under their daughter’s skirt. Your dad might not think I’m so golden when he considers that.”
I twist so Brou can reach my lips with his. “Kiss me and then shut up and go back to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
“I want to know everything. When, where, how. All the details of how this came about.” My mom is all smiles. I’m waiting for her to clap her hands like an excited toddler any minute.
“We met at the beer festival a couple of months ago, hit it off pretty well, but decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to pursue anything because of Brou’s partnership with Ollie.”
“You don’t have to explain that. We all know how protective he can be with you.” It’s never been a thorn in my side until Brou. But all seems to be well now. Maybe.
