Spencer Cohen Series, Book Three (The Spencer Cohen Series 3) (12 page)

I sighed, and when I was done doing up buttons, I started to roll my right sleeve. Slowly, one by one, I revealed the inked ravens, and my mood went back to sombre. “I asked Emilio about changing this blackbird.” I ran my finger over the tattoo that had, for years, symbolised my brother Archer. “I was thinking of maybe changing this blackbird to a phoenix, but he wasn’t sure it’d work. He took a stencil of it and was going to see what he could do. He didn’t think it was gonna work out too well, but he’d try. See?” I pointed to the smallest of the blackbirds, “Its tail is wrong.”

Andrew put his hand over the tattoo, the most loving of touches. “You could do a single piece on your back? A phoenix dedicated just for him? Keep the blackbird just as it is, because this tattoo”—he touched it lightly—“is part of who you are.”

That made me smile. His total acceptance of my tattoos, encouragement even, made my chest warm. “I might do that actually.”

Andrew put my passport in my breast pocket. “Did you call the doctor and ask him about you flying after your allergic reaction?”

“Um…”

He stared at me. “Spencer, you almost died two days ago from anaphylactic shock.”

“I remember. I was there.” My smile was slow spreading. “Of course I called him. I also asked him to email me information and permission notices to keep with my EpiPens when we travel. I also called the airline and inquired about their shellfish allergy policy.” I kissed him softly. “I’ve done this before.”

“I just worry, that’s all.”

“I know you do.” I handed him the black leather bracelet. It looked like it could be a watch, but instead of a quartz face, this had a metal clasp.

“It’s your medical alert bracelet,” Andrew said softly, more to himself than to me. I held out my wrist, and Andrew secured it with care.

“Thank you.”

He leaned in and kissed me. “You’re welcome. Now get your toiletries. Lola will be here any—”

A loud knock interrupted. “Taxi to LAX,” Lola’s voice yelled.

“I’ll get the door.” Andrew disappeared, and I grabbed a few toiletries, threw another pair of shoes into my suitcase, and zipped it. I grabbed my backpack for a carry on, threw in a book, some headphones, the printed papers from the doctor, and two EpiPens.

Lola watched and waited for me to zip it until she hugged me. “I’m proud of you for doing this.”

I nodded. “Me too.”

Lola pulled back and looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Regardless of what happens over there, you’re doing the right thing.”

“This might be my one shot at having my brother in my life.” I took a deep breath. “I have to try.”

Andrew picked up my suitcase. “We need to go.”

I looked at my watch. We really did. So, we grabbed my bags, then Andrew’s bag from his car, and we loaded them into Cindy Crawford. Andrew gave his keys to Emilio and explained Sarah would be in to collect them. We said our goodbyes, and I didn’t think much of it. But I got into the front passenger seat, Andrew climbed into the back. It wasn’t a long drive, particularly when driven at warp speed. I guess I was so used to Lola’s driving, no matter how much it still scared me, I learned that sudden lane changes and random ninety-degree turns were a given. But I glanced back at Andrew, and the look on his face…

He looked like he’d just met Impending Doom.

I almost laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “Lola, slow it down.”

“I’m not speeding,” she said, then chanced a look in her rear vision mirror at Andrew. “Oh.”

I turned in my seat to half face him. “Now you know what I mean. It kinda helps if you don’t watch the road.”

Lola brought Cindy Crawford to a screaming halt at the international terminal. I jumped out and held the door for Andrew. He was a little pale as he got out on mechanical legs. Lola already had our suitcases out on the pavement and hugged me fiercely. “I’ll miss you,” she said in my ear. “Take care. And remember, we’ll all be here when you get back.” Then she hugged Andrew. “Take care of him. And thank you for going with him.”

She then raced around to the driver’s side, jumped back into Cindy Crawford, and swerved into traffic. She waved at the people who honked.

“Sweet mother of God,” Andrew mumbled. “I thought we were going to die.”

“Her driving is… invigorating, yeah?”

He let out a low breath. “On the bright side, if the fourteen-hour flight ahead of us has the worst turbulence, it still can’t be any worse than that.”

Laughing, I grabbed our bags, and together we walked inside.

* * * *

They say you can tell a lot about a person if you travel with them. Andrew was kinda stressed to begin with, but once we were checked in, boarded the plane, and settled into our seats, he was fine. He kept asking if I was okay, if I was nervous or hungry. But he was a wealth of calm and support, and even when the plane touched down in Sydney with too little sleep, his first concern was always for me.

Customs was both a blessing and a curse. It took a while, which was torture because Lewis was apparently picking us up from the airport. I wanted so badly to see him, but it also gave me time to gather my thoughts. I had no idea how this would go.

And that dreaded hope ballooned again in my chest. I was pretty sure it never went away. It was always waiting, lying dormant, but never gone. I wanted to have my brother in my life, with every fibre of my being. But I knew now, partly because of Andrew, partly because of Lola and Emilio, that I’d be okay if Lewis and I weren’t able to bridge the gap between us. It was partly because of Aunt Marvie too, and partly because of me—she’d given me the strength to survive the worst of rejections—so I knew I would be okay.

But I still hoped.

I waited for Andrew to get through customs, and we walked out through the concourse together. I hadn’t seen Lewis in years, and the last time I had seen him, he was just a kid. He was a man of twenty-three now, and I worried for a second that I wouldn’t recognise him. Maybe he wouldn’t recognise me… I certainly didn’t have a beard or tattooed arms when my father told me the demise of our family was my fault for being gay. When Lewis and Archer had stood there, stunned and upset at my father’s rage. Jesus, the look on their young faces…

Stepping foot back on Sydney soil sure brought with it memories I’d spent years trying to forget.

Andrew stopped. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Just memories.”

I saw him then. A guy who looked just like me, only younger. No beard, but the eyes were mine and our mother’s.

He stepped cautiously toward me. “Spencer?”

I nodded, my heart in my throat.

His eyes welled with tears, and he strode toward me, leaving the woman with him to follow. Lewis said nothing else, but he threw his arms around me and cried.

“I’m Andrew.”

“Hi, Andrew. I’m Libby.”

Lewis pulled away then, wiping his nose with an embarrassed laugh. Andrew and Libby were shaking hands. “Sorry, for leaving you to introduce yourselves. Libby, my brother, Spencer. Spencer, my girlfriend, Libby.”

He called me brother.

“Lovely to meet you,” I said, then I turned to Andrew. “Lewis, this is my boyfriend, Andrew. Andrew, Lewis.”

Andrew shook his hand. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Thank you for coming,” Lewis said. “Both of you.” He looked at me then, still a little teary but smiling. “It’s so good to see you.”

Libby put her arm around Lewis and smiled up at him, like he’d been as nervous as me. “We ready to go?”

I gave Andrew a relieved smile, then nodded to Libby. “Yeah.”

And with our luggage in tow, the four of us walked out into a beautiful Sydney morning.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

We piled our bags into Lewis’s Audi, and Andrew and I got into the backseat. Lewis looked back at me. “Where to?”

“We’re staying at Bondi. And I would love some sleep, but it’s too early to check in. How about some breakfast?”

“Sounds great.”

We found a little café that was the least busy out of all the eateries on the strip in Bondi. Andrew grabbed the backpack with the EpiPens like it was just part of what he did now. Which was kind of annoying and a whole lotta sweet. And maybe my last brush with shellfish had scared him
more
than he told me it did because he gave me a tight-lipped, no-arguments smile.

“Thank you,” I said. But while he was fussing over backpacks and life-saving adrenaline shots, he missed the best kind of lifesavers. I turned him around. “Look.”

Bondi Beach was world famous for very good reason. It was beautiful and so were the lifesavers who patrolled it. “Nice view, huh?”

“Not a bad view at all.” He was totally looking at the two lifesavers wearing nothing but tiny Speedos and big smiles.

“You’re welcome,” I joked, taking his hand and following Lewis and Libby into the café.

After we were seated, we ordered three coffees and a tea for me. I quizzed politely on the kitchen’s protocol for allergies with their cooking and, after their complete reassurance, settled for a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausages, grilled tomato, and toast. Andrew ordered the same, citing, “Airplane food isn’t great.”

Lewis and Libby ordered as well, and Lewis handed over his credit card. When the waitress was gone, Lewis shook his head. “I forgot about your allergy to shellfish. I mean, I didn’t
forget
forget. I guess I just hadn’t thought of it in a while.”

I gave him a smile. “That’s okay. I try not to think of it either.” Andrew stared at me disbelievingly, but bringing up my trip to hospital earlier this week probably wouldn’t be a real good icebreaker. “So,” I changed topics, “what’s been going on in old Sydney town?”

Lewis told me about some of our old friends that I barely remembered and then about some cousins I hadn’t thought of in years. I guess when you’re kicked out of the family, it’s not just immediate family you’re removed from. Cousins got married, divorced, had babies, whatever.

He very deliberately didn’t mention our parents, and that was fine with me.

They asked about LA and listened as we ate our meals. Lewis asked Andrew all about his job and was genuinely interested in what he did. It made me very happy that my brother was making an effort to get to know my boyfriend.

Then again, it was never Lewis who had the problem with me being gay.

Libby told us all about her studies in economics. Which surprised me, if I was being completely honest. She looked like she could be the poster girl for a surf brand or Colgate, but behind the model-looks was an incredibly intelligent woman. And it was very clear she adored Lewis.

Not once did we talk about Archer or my parents. It was a discussion we all knew was coming, but maybe we each wanted to enjoy this little slice of happiness before we dealt with reality and the horrible things that had, in turn, torn us apart and brought us back together again.

But even after Andrew’s second cup of coffee, he still fought a yawn. “Sorry. Jet lag is not my friend. And you’re telling me its Thursday? Because we left on Tuesday and I’m pretty sure there’s supposed to be a day in between.”

I sipped my tea seriously. “Wednesday’s gone. There was a survey, and they decided to make it obsolete. There are no more Wednesdays.”

Andrew snorted and rolled his eyes. “Right. I’m pretty sure if the survey was credible, it’d be Monday that people would get rid of.”

“The poll was very close. But they figured then people would just hate Tuesdays. And it’s not Tuesday’s fault. And really, what purpose does Wednesday have? And what kind of word is Wednesday anyway?”

Andrew fought a smile. “You done?”

“I could go on for a while.”

Lewis chuckled. “So, how long have you two been together?”

I looked at Andrew; he looked at me. “Um, just a few months.”

“Really?” Libby said, her smile wide and somewhat disbelieving. “I could have sworn you two were together a few years, at least.”

Andrew went a shade of red, and even his ears went pink. He cleared his throat. “Just two months.”

Lewis eyed us like he couldn’t figure something out, but before he said anything, I spoke first. “What about you guys?”

“Three years,” Lewis answered.

“Almost three years,” Libby corrected him. “We met at the Oaks. He was drunk and shamelessly charming.”

“And she was stubborn. Wouldn’t see me for weeks.”

“Until he promised me the perfect date. If it wasn’t perfect, he’d leave me alone.”

“It was obviously perfect,” Andrew said, waving his hand between them. “Because you’re still together.”

Lewis snorted. “Hardly. Libby ended up with food poisoning.”

Libby grinned. “I vomited for two days, and Lewis here never left. He washed my clothes, my sheets, called my uni professors to organise notes because it was mid-years, and he made me toast and tea when I was well enough to eat.”

“That’s sweet,” Andrew said. “Well, not the vomiting part.”

Libby laughed. “It was. I figured if he’d seen me at my very worst and hadn’t run for the hills, he had to be okay, right? We’ve been together since.”

When Andrew yawned again, I knew it was time to go. “Okay, that’s us. We need to bail for a few, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” Lewis stood up. As we walked out, he asked, “Where are you staying?”

“The Atoll.”

Lewis’s gaze shot to mine, a look Andrew didn’t miss. I shrugged and bit back a smile. Lewis studied me for a second but decided to leave whatever was on the tip of his tongue unsaid.

“You okay?” Andrew asked as we walked back to Lewis’s car.

“I am.” I looked over the blue of the Pacific and let out a happy sigh. So far, all things were going well. It really did look like Lewis and I might just be okay. “I am.”

It was only a short drive to the hotel, and truthfully, we could have walked it. But Lewis wanted to drive, so we didn’t object. It wasn’t exactly like he didn’t know the way…

Lewis drove right up to the front doors and parked. He waved off the valet and opened the boot to his car, so Andrew and I could pull out our luggage. “We’ll give you a few hours.” Lewis glanced at his watch. “What if we come back at four?”

Instinctively, I looked at my watch. It was five hours away. “Sounds great.” Before he got back into his car, I asked, “Um, can we go to the cemetery this afternoon?”

Lewis stopped and a sadness washed over his features. “Yeah. Of course.”

I gave him the most reassuring smile I could manage. “Lewis, it’s real good to see you.”

Finally he smiled. “Likewise.”

He and Libby drove off, and Andrew and I booked into our room. I handed over my credit card and signed, gladly took the key-card, and went to our room. Exhausted, we fell onto the bed.

Both of us still staring at the ceiling, Andrew reached blindly for my hand. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

He laughed. “About Lewis. He seems genuine.”

“He does.”

“You look alike,” Andrew said. “Minus the beard of course, and his hair is a little darker, but yeah, you’re really alike.”

“Is he hot?”

Andrew chuckled again but the sound died away. “You’re still wary.”

I turned my head to look at him, then. He was already staring at me. “Of course I am. But he seems legit, yeah? Not like he’s asked me here just to see how much hurt I can take?”

Andrew’s eyes never left mine. “He seems like a guy who’s desperate to reach out to the only brother he has left. There’s a sadness in his eyes. And he watched you like he could hardly believe he was really seeing you. He’s not acting, Spencer. He asked you here because he needs you.”

I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. “Thank you.”

He slow-blinked. “Sleep first. Just for a few hours. Then there will be sex. Just thought you should know.”

I laughed and closed my eyes, feeling the weight of sleep luring me under. “Thank you for being here.”

He rolled onto his side, pulled a pillow under his head, and closed his eyes. “Welcome.”

I watched him sleep until my eyelids wouldn’t cooperate any longer.

* * * *

When Lewis picked us up at four, we were showered, changed, well-sated, and somewhat more human than we were at breakfast time. The afternoon was clear and warm; the sky was a blue I remembered from my childhood.

Lewis smiled at the bouquets we were holding, but never mentioned them. I guess he didn’t need to. “You ready?” Lewis asked. He didn’t want to know if I was ready to get in his car. He wanted to know if I was ready to see Archer’s grave. Was anyone ever really ready to say goodbye?

I gave a nod, and Andrew joined me in the backseat of the car. Lewis slid in behind the wheel and Libby gave us a smile. “Sleep okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” Andrew answered politely. And without another word spoken, Lewis drove us to Waverly Cemetery.

When we parked, Lewis and I walked side by side, and Libby and Andrew walked behind us. Lewis pointed the way, and I followed his lead. We’d walked a while, the small path a concrete vein that ran to the heart of the cemetery, when Lewis said, “It um… it was a nice service. It was private.”

He turned onto a smaller capillary path, and he slowed his walk. He didn’t need to point out which was Archer’s. It was the newest one. I let out a long breath, trying to gather my thoughts.

Libby put her hand on Andrew’s arm. “Shall we…?”

It was clear she wanted to give Lewis and I some alone time. Andrew looked at me questioningly, silently asking if he should go with her. I gave him a nod, and Andrew put his hand on the small of my back and kissed my cheek. “I won’t be far away.”

We watched them walk off, Andrew still holding one bouquet of flowers, as he and Libby walked toward the cliff edge. Waverly cemetery was world famous for its view over the Pacific. But my eyes were drawn back to the marble stone in front of me. Archer Cohen. I laid the flowers on the grave gently. “Hey brother. Been a while, huh?” I swallowed down the lump in my throat and took a step back. Lewis and I both took a few moments to breathe. “How did he die?”

Lewis answered in a whisper. “He hung himself.”

I lowered my head and breathed through the burning weight in my chest. “When I asked you if it involved me, you said not directly. What did you mean?”

Lewis looked out across the cemetery. His eyes were filled with tears, but they remained unshed. “He left a note.” Lewis shook his head then looked right at me. “He was gay.”

And just like that, I felt like I had been punched in the heart.

“He said he knew our parents would never understand, and he couldn’t reconcile the man they expected him to be with who he actually was. He couldn’t… he couldn’t live with their guilt and disappointment anymore.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

Lewis nodded and a tear rolled down his cheek. “He blamed them. And he told them that. He said they now had the death of two sons on their hands.” His gaze bore into mine. “They considered you dead. Not him.”

I took a shaky breath and my eyes welled with tears. This was too much. “He killed himself because he was gay?”

More tears streamed down Lewis’s face. “No. He died because our parents made him feel worthless and dirty. Every time they sprouted some hateful speech about what made a man a real man, it must have just about killed him every time.”

“Did you know he was gay?”

Lewis shook his head. “No. He never told me. He had girlfriends, or so I thought. We all thought.” He wiped his face with his hands. “But in hindsight, looking back, I can join the dots. I can see now how he’d flinch or his jaw would bulge, or his eyes… I can see now how much he struggled.” He let his head fall back and he groaned at the sky, trying to quell his emotions. “When you left—”

“When they kicked me out,” I amended. “It was never my choice.”

He put his hand up. “Sorry. When they kicked you out, he took it hard. Real hard. I mean we both did, but him especially. I just thought he was mostly upset because our own parents had just split up the only family we’d known. But he was twelve years old. He would have known he liked boys, and he would have been so fucking scared that if our parents found out they’d kick him out too.”

“They wouldn’t have understood.”

Lewis slowly shook his head. “No. Even now after reading what he told them, they still don’t get it. They think he’s better off now…” More tears fell down his cheeks. “I fucking hate them, Spencer. I hate them.”

I hugged him and held him while he cried. He pulled back, and with his jaw clenched he let out a growl. “I am so angry. I am pissed off for you, and I am so angry for Archie.”

“Me too. I spent a long time angry, hurt, and confused. I still am, and I won’t ever forgive them. But I could never change who I am.”

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