This feels good.
It feels right.
I am safe here.
Thisis what my soul needs. Both men who love me, and whom I love in return, are on either side of me. Our children, happy and healthy, just down the hall. My heart beating in my chest, not feeling like it needs to be torn in two to divide itself evenly amongst everyone on either side, because there simply are no sides.
Chapter Nineteen
Life, for the first time in more than a couple of years, finally feels like it is falling into place, rather than apart. I’ve been seeing a therapist, which—true to Lauren’s word—has been helping me tremendously. Also, since that first night I spent over at “The Ant Farm” over a month ago, Cameron—whose septum is now pierced—and I have beentheremore often than at our own home. It’s been quite nice, actually.
A little weird, for sure, since I’m not really quite certain when Cam started referring to the guest room as his room specifically. It just kind of happened, I guess, and I never even took note of it until earlier, when it confused the shit out of me wondering if he forgot his laptop at his room at “Double C Ranch,” or his room at theirs. Pepper seems to have taken to their home right away, that’s for sure. He’s got several little nooks and crannies already designated as his that he likes to hang out in—his absolute favorite being next to Ivy the snake’s tank in the living room.
Ivy,because shelovesto climb, much to Marcus’ horror. I swear he triple checks the lid to make sure it’s in place. Every. Fuckin’. Day. The one time it wasn’t—and that was Lauren’s fault, not Brody’s—he shrieked so loud that I’m sure if there were any crystal in the house, it would have been shattered. Thankfully, we’re blue-collar folks, all with simple tastes. Lauren’s penchant for drinking out of Mason jars for the win.
In fact, their whole house is done up in what she calls “rustic farmhouse chic”—likely just her way of rationalizing why there are cocks (erm, roosters) on every wall of all the shared living spaces. Her taste in decor isn’t typical for the area, as most homes along the coast of Maine are done up with kitschy seashells and starfish—gotta go with those nautical themes, you know. But I think that’s what I admire most about Lauren, she dances to the beat of her own drum, and unapologetically so.
Marcus? He just goes with the flow. I love that about him too. Sure, it was something thatusedto bother me because it made him seem like too much of a pushover, but in the time I’ve spent under the same roof as him, well, I can assure you, he is no pushover. He is firm when he needs to be with Brody, he is quick to be there to help bolster Lauren’s strength, and he has been absolutely unwavering in his commitment to helping me get back out of my shell around here.
Aside from working together nearly every day, we also take time to go out and decompress afterward. And maybe it seems a little cliché that we mostly just head up to Portside Pub with Gannett every day after work, but it’s a step in the right direction to get me out and socializing more—it just so happens to be that Portside is the watering hole where a lot of the locals tend to gather. But shit, I have conversed—albeit with Marcus’ aid—with more people in the past month than I ever have, since the accident.
That, myfriends, ishuge.
Spending a lot of time there, however, doesn’t mean we’ve shirked all our other responsibilities, it simply means that our days are long, busy, but best of all,full. Many times, we all fall into bed together too worn and wary to do anything more than just cuddle. Honestly, that’s fine by me. Sure, the sex is fantastic. I won’t lie by saying it isn’t—I’m only human, after all—but sex doesn’t seem to be the central focus of what we’re building, and that, right there, is the most important to me.
What we’re cultivating is a deep and enriching life together, which is something I never thought would happen for me again after Aaron. And holy fuck, did it all happen in such a short amount of time too, if you think about it. It’s the end of October now, and this relationship really started coming into focus at the beginning of June. Regardless, I meant what I said to Lauren back when I told her I loved her while camping: you never know when someday may be your last chance to tell someone you love them, so make every opportunity count.
Make every moment matter. You only live once, and the years fly by quickly, so do it up while you still can. So, if you want to know why I willingly go balls to the wall all the time? It’s because of that mindset, right there.
“Hey, Dad,” Cameron says, startling me out of my life-reflection whilst I work on putting together a meatloaf for supper for everyone. Marcus and Lauren are at Brody’s parent-teacher conference, so I figured I’d chip in where I could here. “Do you have a minute?”
I lift my hands out of the bowl of ground meat and peel off my gloves. “For you, I always have a minute. What’s up?”
He sits at the kitchen island and, without any prompting, starts peeling the potatoes I had set out for oneof our sides. “I, um,” he croaks, then clears his throat nervously. “I got a text today. I haven’t responded yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”
My brows furrow. “Who was it from?”
“Nana,” he answers, peering up at me hesitantly.
My mother is Grandma to him.Nanais Aaron’s mom. My stomach instantaneously flops out of my gut.
“What did she say?”
He sets down the potato, wipes his hands on his shirt, and then pulls out his phone, showing me the text. It’s a long one. She starts off by giving him an update on Aaron—still in a minimally lucid state, showing no signs of improvement—and then moves on to say that her and Cam’s pop-pop’s wish is for him to come visit with them for Thanksgiving. They miss him, and they blame me for keeping them from their grandson.
She then goes on to guilt trip him a little for choosing to stay with me, instead of hisrealflesh and blood family, andmyblood boils. I haven’t kept him fromanyone; it has been his choice all along to not keep in contact with them.I wouldneverwillfully bar him from reaching out to them, as they’ve done to me in regards to Aaron.
Cam, who has been studying me as I read through the text, immediately notices the effects of the simmering heat in my face. “I’m not sure how to reply to that and keep my cool,” he croaks. “I want to be pissed at them too.” He blinks at me, tears welling in his eyes. “But I also want to go see Papa…”
“Oh, buddy,” I sign, fighting back tears of anguish of my own. “And you definitely should. I want that for you more than anything.”
Then, the six-foot-two, heading-towards-full-blown-manhood teen of mine starts bawling, and I immediately want to fall to my knees. Instead, when he reaches for me, I round the island and tug him into my arms, squeezing him around his waist with all my might as his bodyis racked by the forcefulness of his sobbing. He has to duck a little to bury his face into my shoulder, which is where I start feeling his tears soak through the cotton of my shirt.
He sucks in a shuddered breath. “I don’t want to feel torn like this, Dad,” he whimpers into my shoulder. “I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m a part of a divided family. It doesn't feel like that here, in this house, so whythere,with them?”
I can’t answer him out loud, which kills me. With my hands rubbing his back, I’m rendered speechless. All I can do is cling to him tighter, hopefully conveying the message to him that I simply do notknowwhy they have to be so callous. Some people just are, and it fuckin’ sucks, but that’s the truth of it. I wish I had the perfect answer for him because I hate seeing him suffer like this—my god, itshattersme—but I’m just as lost in the dark as he is here, navigating these unfamiliar waters.
Suddenly, the front door clicks open, and Marcus, Lauren, and Brody file in. Marcus is the first to assess the situation, his eyes roving up and down in front of him—which, were this not such a profoundly sad moment, I’m sure would look pretty comical. Me struggling to cling tightly to the giant kid who dwarfed me in height by the time he was fourteen.
