CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE KNOCKon the door had my nerves jangled. For the last hour, I had told myself I was ready to face Clay, but in truth, I wasn’t. I believed he loved me, and I hoped that extended to him wanting what I thought was best for me.
“He’s here,” I said, stating the obvious.
Without comment Charlie stepped over to the hearth and poked at the fire he’d started to ward off the chill that permeated the house.
I’d been sitting and worrying about how things were going to go. Things had gotten marginally better when Charlie sat next to me, wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and told me he was proud of me. For a few moments before Clay arrived, I felt calm and steady.
Now? I was so nervous I was shaking.
“Want me to get it?” Charlie asked.
I shook my head, took a deep breath, and straightened my spine. I could do this. Iwoulddo this.
As soon as the door opened, a gust of bitterly cold air swirled in the doorway, bringing a light dusting of snow with it. Clay stood on the porch, bundled in his flannel jacket, gray woolen cap, and black snow pants.
“Please tell me you have coffee,” he begged as he stumbled dramatically through the door. I looked for Charlie, wanting to hold his hand, but saw him coming back from the kitchen.
“Decaf,” Charlie replied as he handed Clay a cup.
“Don’t care. It’s hot, and that’s good enough for me.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that they hadn’t jumped right back to the threats of violence. Maybe it was a good sign.
“Do you want to sit?” I asked Clay.
“Sure, that would be nice.” He stepped toward the couch, then stopped to remove his snowy jacket and boots. He grinned at me. “I can be civilized, you know.” Then he hurried over and stretched out in front of the fire. “God, that feels good. I don’t know how you can stand it up here. It’s like thirty degrees colder than in town.”
I ignored what I thought was a subtle dig, but Charlie didn’t.
“It’s warmer here than in town because this place has so much heart.”
Clay held up his hand. “I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m serious. It’s warmer in town, but this place is cozy.”
“Sorry,” Charlie murmured, taking my hand in his.
“No, you have absolutely no reason to be sorry. I do, though.” He swallowed, getting a pained expression on his face. “I almost lost my brother because I wasn’t willing to accept he could be happy living the way he was. I’m not going to say I agree with it, but it wasn’t my decision to make. I had no business trying to force him to change who he is.”
“But, Clay, I—”
“Please, let me finish.”
Charlie sat on the opposite end of the couch and pulled me closer. I had the insane desire to be on his lap, with his arms wrapped around me, but the casts wouldn’t come off for another week. Instead I sat on the arm of the couch and gave Clay my undivided attention.
“I was selfish,” he continued, his gaze locked on mine. “I wanted Matt to be there for Sunday dinners so we could talk about things. I wanted to tell him about the girl I was dating. The changes on Main Street. I wanted us to sit in our pajamas around the Christmas tree with Mom, drinking coffee at four in the morning because I was too excited to sleep. Did you know I have every gift I bought for you still wrapped in a closet at home?” He coughed when he tried to chuckle. “I bought you a Nirvana shirt the year after you moved out. I saw it when I was out on a date and had to get it. Then I realized you wouldn’t see it, and I had no idea what to do to make things right.”
I could see tears on his cheeks now, and my heart stuttered.
“Mom told me you know about me being out here when you were gone. I’m sorry, but it was the only way I could connect with you. I swear I wasn’t stalking you…. Well, okay, not much. But goddammit, Matt. I missed you so fucking bad, it tore me up inside. You don’t know what it’s like, knowing your brother is less than an hour away and you can’t just drop by to see him.”
I stood, wanting to launch myself at him, but Charlie kept his grip on my hand. When I glanced at him, he gave a small shake of his head.
“Did you ever once think about us? When it was Christmas, did you wonder what we were doing? How we were getting along? Shit, you didn’t evencallon the holidays. Mom and I stopped decorating because there didn’t seem to be any sense in it. Our lives stopped when you left. It was like you fuckingdied,” he shouted. “No, it’s worse than that, because if you were dead, we’d at least be able to mourn you.”
His eyes went wide, and his cheeks were stained red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Oh, fuck, Matt. I am so very sorry.” All the anguish burst out of him, and he threw himself at me and wrapped me in his arms. I was uncomfortable, but I allowed him to hold me. “We were lost without you,” he whispered in my ear. “We still are.”
Charlie let go of my hand, and I patted Clay on the back. We stood there, him embracing me, for a few more moments before he stepped back. His eyes were red, and he looked exhausted.
