Tell Me It's Real (44 page)

He trembled. “You’re not going to go away?”

I almost hesitated with my answer, because could any of us ever make a promise like that? Could any of us actually keep that promise? But if I hesitated, he would have seen it. He would have known. “No,” I said. “No I’m not going away. Not now. Not ever. It’ll be you and me forever.”

“I’m lost!” he cried. “Oh God, I’m so lost. You have to find me! Please, Paul, you have to find me because I’m so lost.”

I could feel the shudder that roared through him then because it caused my own arms to shake. He was twitching like he was seizing, and I panicked when he started making little choking noises in the back of his throat, like he couldn’t catch his breath, like his body had sunk into full-blown panic and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. I did the only thing I could think of doing: I rolled over on top of him, crushing his body with mine, covering him completely like I was anchoring him to the world even as it broke.

All the air was crushed out of him, so much so that he couldn’t take in another breath to allow the sobs to come again. He stared up at me with those big eyes of his, our foreheads touching, our noses brushing together. I waited until I knew it was just starting to get uncomfortable for him, when I knew he
needed
to take a breath, and then I shifted slightly and he sucked in air and let it back out, warm against my face.

His gaze never left mine when he said, “They’re dead, Paul. My parents are dead.”

“I know,” I said, my voice rough. “I know.”

“What’s going to happen to me? I don’t have anyone else. I don’t know anyone else.” Panic started to fill his eyes again. “There’s no one. There’s no one else.”

“There’s me,” I said, pressing my lips against his forehead. He shook underneath me. “There’s me, and there will always
be
me. I’ve got you. I’ll catch you. I’ll worry for you. You’re not lost. You’re not lost because I’ve found you.”

And he cried then, a soft sound that caused me to ache. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me down and cried into me. I let him, because it was what I said I’d do. I let him break because it was what he was entitled to.

He moved in with us that very night and he stayed until we went off to college. There were good days. There were some bad days. Some nights got to be too much for him and I would hear a soft knock on my door through the haze of sleep and he’d slip in through the shadows and crawl into my bed. Sometimes I held him. Sometimes we kissed, though it never went beyond that. It was not meant to be sexual. It was meant to be comfort, and I let him take from me all he could.

He was my best friend, after all. I’d have given him anything.

“
W
ITHOUT
you, I don’t think I would have made it,” Sandy said, after a time. His hands were still in my hair, though they’d stilled from the memory.

I sighed. “You may be giving me a bit too much credit here.”

“Only because you never give yourself enough. Seriously, Paul. How you underestimate your own worth is beyond me.”

“I’m humble?”

He snorted and began to play with my hair again. “I’m not sure that’s the right word for what you are.”

“Meek?”

“Hardly.”

“Gregarious?”

“Only when intoxicated.”

“Epic?”

“Most days, sure, but not quite.”

“I’m running out of ideas,” I said tiredly.

Silence.

Then: “You’re a lighthouse.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s the best way to put how I think of you, I guess.”

“That’s… weird.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s poetic,” he said, slapping the top of my head lightly. “Lighthouses are there to help ships see through the dark. To keep them from running aground. That’s what you do, Paul. You’re like the beacon in the dark.”

“You’re a poet, and you don’t even know it,” I told him, feeling slightly uncomfortable with his words. I wasn’t like that at all. I didn’t deserve that kind of praise. I was just… Paul.

He moved his hands from my hair and cupped my face, not allowing me to turn away from those knowing eyes. “Without you,” he said fiercely, “there would have been no me. I was lost, and you found me. Vince might get lost too, and he’ll need you to find him. He’ll need you to be the anchor. He’ll need you to be the light. He’ll need you.”

“I don’t….” But I didn’t want to finish that.

“You will,” Sandy said, hearing it anyway. “You know how and you will.”

I
THOUGHT
about going to the hospital again, or calling Vince, but I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome either way. I settled on sending him a text, though I didn’t know if he’d get it in the hospital if his phone was turned off. It felt woefully inadequate to send him a message that said if he needed me, to call me, but I didn’t know what else to say. It took me almost an hour to compose that masterpiece, and when I finally convinced myself to send it, I regretted it the moment I hit send, wishing I could take it back. I almost sent him another message, but I knew it would be followed by another and another, so instead, I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and fell back onto my bed and lay there in the dark.

Sleep was long in coming and when it came, it was thin and restless.

My phone ringing woke me later, just before midnight, pulling me from a hazy dream where I couldn’t move because I was stuck to a sea cliff, shining a flashlight into the water, ships bearing down on me at high speeds, waves crashing, winds blowing. I didn’t even look at the screen before answering, convinced it was part of the dream.

“Yeah?” I said.

“Paul?”

“Sure.” I couldn’t tell who it was in my sleep-deprived mind.

“It’s Darren.”

This cleared me up right quick. “What happened?”

“She’s gone. Two hours ago. It was faster than they thought it would be.”

“I’m… sorry. Are you okay?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’m not calling about me.”

“Vince.”

“Has he called you?”

“No. Is he there with you?”

“No. He took off a while ago. He looked… wild. Confused.”

“And you let him go?” I said, anger in my voice. “You let him drive away?”

“We couldn’t stop him,” Darren snapped. “Not without it resorting to blows. He exchanged words with our father and… it didn’t go well.”

“Where did he go?” I asked, getting up, planning on finding my keys.

“He said he wanted to go to his home, but I’m at his apartment, and he’s not here. I don’t think he came here at all.”

“His home? Where else could he have gone?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d heard from him.” He sighed. “Shit. I don’t know where else he could be, unless he went back to Phoenix for some reason.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. “He better not have driven all the way back there with how he is. I don’t—”

There was a sharp pounding at my front door. Wheels jumped up from his spot on the bed, his little barks echoing throughout the house as he rolled down his ramp and tore for the front door. “Hold on,” I told Darren.

Wheels’ barking turned into an excited yipping as I headed down the hall. His butt was wagging back and forth, the tires on his cart tapping on the tile. It seemed he knew who it was, and there were only two other people he responded to that way. I allowed myself to hope as I moved him out of the way, and then I flipped on the porch light as I opened the door.

Vince stood there, squinting against the light. His face was pale, his eyes clouded. “He’s here,” I told Darren. “I’ve got him.”

“So that’s what he meant by home,” Darren said, and for a moment, the world around me got a bit brighter before I pushed it away. Darren sighed. “Keep him there, will you? I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can figure out what to do then.”

“Sure,” I said before I hung up the phone and put it in my pocket. I opened the screen door. “Hey,” I said softly, as if anything louder would spook him and cause him to flee.

“Paul?” Vince said, sounding confused. “Where….” He shook his head. “Did you find me?” he asked in a gruff voice. “I was looking for you, but… how did you get here?”

“This is my house,” I said softly, my fingers aching to reach out and touch him. “You came over to my house.”

He nodded slowly. “I thought I might. I think I was trying to find you, but I got lost. I drove for a while, because I couldn’t remember how to get here.”

“Oh?”

“I’m tired, Paul.”

“It’s been a long day.”

He looked down at his hands and let out a shuddering breath. “Can I come inside and go to sleep? I know you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry, but I just want to go to sleep. I’m real tired. I would sleep on the couch, or in the other bedroom, but I can’t. I need to be right there with you, okay?” His face crumpled, his voice cracking. “I just need to get some sleep, and I sleep better when you’re there. Okay? Please say it’s okay, Paul. I need to sleep, and I need you to say it’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” I said, unable to hold back anymore. I reached out and took his hand in mine. He clutched at it with both of his hands, as if he’d float away if he didn’t grip me as tightly as he could. I pulled him through the doorway, shutting it behind us. He kept his eyes on our hands. Wheels twisted around his feet, but even he could see something was off, and he headbutted Vince’s ankle with a little growl. I shushed him quietly, and he followed us down the hall as I led Vince to my bedroom. I closed that door as well, as if to keep the outside world away.

Vince stood near my bed, like he was unsure about what to do next, like he’d forgotten the next steps. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, laying my forehead against the back of his neck. He sagged into me with a low moan, and I gripped him tighter.

“She died, Paul,” he said thickly. “I was standing right there when she….”

“I know,” I said, because I didn’t think he wanted to hear an apology right then.

“I thought maybe she’d wake up again. That she’d bounce back and everything would be okay because that’s the way it should have been. I kept thinking that she’d open her eyes and she’d see me, she’d
really
see me, and everything would be okay and we’d laugh. We’d laugh like we did when I was a kid and she was just my mom. But you know what else I thought? You want to know what I thought the most?”

“What?”

“You,” he said, leaning his head back until it rested on my shoulder, my mouth near his ear, our cheeks brushing together. “You. I thought of you. I though how I wanted to be with you. I wished that you were there with me, and I wished you weren’t mad at me. I wished I’d told you everything from the beginning even though it was too much to put on a person, and I didn’t want you to have to deal with it. I didn’t want to bring it down on you because you were so bright. You were so clear and bright, and I didn’t want it to bring you down.” He shuddered again. “Darren said… he said you told him to tell me it’s real. Did you say that, Paul? Did you tell him that?”

“Yes,” I said, because it was the only answer that could be given. “It’s real.”

“Paul… I… I don’t….”

His tears soaked against my cheek as I kissed them away. I told him to hush, I told him that it was okay, that I wasn’t mad, not really. I couldn’t be mad at him, I said, because there was nothing to be angry about. He twisted in my arms until he could look me in the eye, trying to see if I was telling the truth. I made sure he knew I was, and the wildness there receded a bit, the cloudiness parted, and a little light showed through. It was not happiness, though it was close. It was not arousal, though I didn’t expect it to be. No. It was
relief,
pure and simple.
Relief
that I understood what he was saying.
Relief
that I wasn’t upset with him, and I couldn’t believe that I had been in the first place.

It was this relief that allowed me to pull his shirt up and over his head and fold it on top of my dresser. It was this relief that allowed me to unbutton his jeans and slide them off. I led him to the bed and followed him in, pulling the covers up to our shoulders. Our knees bumped together as we faced each other.

He watched me, for a time, without speaking, his eyes bright and wet. He reached up and traced my face with his fingertips, memorizing the skin like he’d never seen it before and would never see it again. I captured his hand in mine, bringing it to my lips, kissing his fingers just once. He sighed and turned away from me to lie on his other side. Before I could even think about what that meant, he pushed his way back until he was flush against me. He grabbed my arm and pulled it over his waist. My nose and mouth were in his hair. He trembled, but soon he stilled. He breathed heavily, but soon it quieted. He held my hand tightly, but soon the grip loosened.

And then I thought he slept. I thought he slept because I would have never whispered what I did had I thought he been awake. It was not my place. It was too soon. It was not the right time. It was not what he wanted to hear. It was not what he
needed
to hear.

But.

I had to say it. To think it was one thing; to say it aloud was another. I thought it. I thought it badly. I had to say it out loud. I had to make sure it was real.

So I did. And it was.

“I love you,” I whispered in the dark.

Ten minutes later, just as the clock switched to midnight and it became the seventh day since I’d first heard his voice, he whispered back, “I love you too.”

And then we slept.

Just The Way You Are

T
HE
days that followed that seventh day were rough. I, of course, woke up with doubts ringing through my head, sure that I wanted to take back that initial
I love you
, sure that Vince wanted to take back his response. I didn’t show that fear, though, because it wasn’t supposed to be about me right then. Vince opened his eyes to find me watching him nervously, berating myself for being
that
guy, the creepy one who watches his partner sleep like it’s supposed to be romantic or something. I averted my eyes momentarily until I felt his fingers on my face.