Authors: S Jackson Rivera
“If there was one thing I knew Pete was better at than I, it was love. He was older than me and had a good head start. He always had a girlfriend, and I’d listen to him go on and on, declaring his undying love for her, until the next one came along, a month later. I still bought it.
“I’d never been in love. I’d lost my virginity, and I’d had way too much sex for someone my age, but I’d never felt anything for any of the girls. They were just there, always offering, and I was always horny, so I didn’t see any reason not to.
“Pete was the only other person who knew what dad was doing. He was the only person I could ask, so I tried to talk to him about our parents, get his advice. He said, ‘It’s just sex. It doesn’t mean he loves Eve’, dad’s secretary, ‘and it doesn’t mean he doesn’t still love mom’. That sounded logical to me. I’d never found a connection between the two, but it didn’t relieve my fear of what would happen to my family if my mom found out about it.
“I grew to hate dad for being so reckless with all our lives. Eventually I found myself resenting mom too, for working such long hours when she should have been home. Now I understand their problems ran deeper than I understood, but if you make a promise—you shouldn’t make promises you don’t plan to keep!”
Rhees understood now why it was so important for Paul to keep his word, but talking about it had worked him up. She snuggled against him again, hoping to soothe him and quiet him down. He took a deep calming breath.
“By fourteen, I couldn’t take it anymore. All the fear and anxiety tore me up. I didn’t think things could be much worse, so I decided it might be better to just get it over with. I told mom about dad’s affairs. She was a smart woman, had a successful career, she didn’t need him. I would be there for her, Pete and Mare too. We’d all move on, cut the poison from our lives, and build something new, something better.” He laughed at his own naivety.
“She told me to mind my own business. She knew—she already knew, and she actually got angry with
me
for telling her. Somehow I’d become the bad guy, just for knowing about it, or admitting it out loud. Heaven forbid. She didn’t seem to care so much about dad’s behavior, but that I knew about it, or that I might tell someone else. That’s what set her off.
“I don’t know. That did something to me. It finally shattered what little illusion I’d been hanging on to, snapped my last thread of hope about being a happy family, or that they even existed. That’s when I decided love and relationships were figments of our imaginations, just wishful, unrealistic thinking.
“I’d still do anything for Pete and Mare, but we’d started to drift—be pulled apart, with all the pressure. Since the move, we were always on show, the perfect couple, the perfect kids, the perfect clothes, cars, house, the perfect
fucking
life! It was a lie—all a big lie.”
Paul went on to explain the torturous pressure to exceed at everything. The growing expectations, the intolerance for failure, the temper tantrums, the ruthlessness, all added to his parents’ condemnation, especially his father’s, as he continued to work for his dad.
“They pressured us all, but Pete, he cracked or something. He wouldn’t let me help him with the business anymore. The pressure to keep up—keep up with
me
, because not only did I handle it, I made it all look easy.
“I had the credits I needed to graduate high school early, but I liked football and hanging with Taye and the guys—they’d become my new family. They were real. They never expected anything from me except what I wanted to give. So I’d show up at the high school every morning to spend time with them until the bell rang, then I’d hop in my car, run to the university for classes, be back to have lunch with the guys. After lunch, I’d hang out in the coach’s office. He’d arranged to have me as his student aide one period, P.E. another, study hall, etc., to make it look like I had the classes I needed to play on the team. I mostly just studied or took classes online until practice.
“It became a fine line, hiding how easy it was for me. I didn’t like the attention I drew when I did
too
well, so I made a game of keeping people guessing. Blow one test out of the water, get the teachers wondering, and then make a stupid mistake on another. I didn’t want anyone to know, but at the same time, I drove myself, pushed myself, wondering if I’d ever find my limit.
“The more you do, the more people pile on, it’s never enough. The coach, the school, the university, mom, mostly my dad—and the business, but I gave them all what they wanted—right up to that last little bit that I had to hang on to for myself.
“There’s no time to think about how screwed up things are when your mind is busy. I liked the challenge, and it felt kind of like I was rubbing it in everyone’s—
my parents’
faces. In my mind, everything I did became an effort just to mock them. They wanted perfection and I gave it to them, but they wouldn’t recognize it if it bit them on the butt.
“I made Salutatorian.” Paul laughed, really laughed, and didn’t stop as he coughed out the next words. “I could have been Valedictorian, easily, but it felt so good to be second place—just barely. I had to listen to mom and dad bemoaning, for days, but it was great.
‘How could you come so close but miss the mark? If you weren’t so lazy, if you’d just put in a little more effort’
. . . It was the ultimate, ‘
give em the finger’
.” He pumped his fist in the air.
“To top it all off, I was supposed to give a speech at graduation.” Paul snickered as he thought back on it. “I didn’t show. I didn’t tell anyone I wasn’t planning to attend my own graduation. The guys and I just took off and had our first Testosterfest that year.
“Imagining the look on my mom’s face, all dressed up. Puffing her chest that her son was Salutatorian, only second best, but hey, he was giving a speech at graduation. How many parents can say that?” He snorted another laugh but then turned thoughtful. He glanced at Rhees as if to see what she thought about that stunt.
“I guess I not only graduated from high school with honors, but I’d also earned a master’s degree from the School of Assholery.” Paul stopped smiling and stared up at the ceiling. “I have a lot of, not-so-fine, moments, but that one is at the top of the list—top ten. I know it was a jerk move, but I’d grown so tired of their bullshit.”
“Paul, they’re just people,” Rhees whispered. “No one is perfect.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” he spat out like a rapid-fire machine gun. “Don’t. Rhees—Baby, do not even—”
“I really think it’d do you good if you could find it in your heart to forgive—”
“I said, don’t!” He scowled, appearing apologetic, but torn. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but I just can’t go there.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she looked away.
“Aw, see? This is you, Baby, so sweet and compassionate. You always care more about everyone else.” He snuggled up to her again, sincerely remorseful. “And this is me, I’m not like you, I don’t think I’m like anyone. Give me a logical, statistical, textbook challenge, even a physical challenge, any day of the week, but feelings, emotions, relationships.” He forced out a breath of air and then his mouth ran through a few familiar moves.
“Truthfully, if it weren’t for Claire, I’m afraid I’d still be twiddling my thumbs, wondering, what the hell am I supposed to do with you? I don’t know if I would’ve ever figured it out on my own.” He turned to face her, his expression pained but adoring. He tenderly stroked the line of her jaw with his knuckles.
“What does that mean for us?” Rhees asked. “What if someday
I
do something you can’t find it in your heart to forgive?”
His expression went blank, which didn’t help her feel encouraged. He leaned in close to her face, fixated on her eyes with a serious, brow-creased, rigid-mouthed, stare.
“Not going to happen. You’re perfect.” A warm grin touched the corners of his mouth. “Over the last few years, I’ve learned I’m not nearly as smart as I once thought I was, and I’ve struggled more than I should have to make sense of all this with you, but there’s one thing I know now with absolute certainty. I. Love. You.”
“But—”
“Danarya Williams Weaver, I love you, I love you, I love you.” He leaned in and gave her a long, soft kiss on the lips while holding his hand in her hair. “I’ve loved you from the beginning, but I will be forever grateful to Claire for helping me connect those dots before I screwed it all up and lost you.”
Rhees gave him a tight, relieved hug. “You know this means I’m going to have to give Claire our first-born child.” Rhees thought for a minute. “Wait. She’d see that as a curse, not a gesture of gratitude.” They both laughed, and Paul kissed her forehead.
“Considering my issues, I needed you to take your time, we both needed it. I think God knew we were perfect for each other and brought us together,” Rhees said.
“Huh.” Paul lay thoughtful for a minute and gave her forehead another kiss. He didn’t dare allow himself to believe that. If anything, he figured God had just messed up, letting Rhees anywhere near him, but then, before God could take her back, Paul had grabbed a hold and hung onto her for dear life. No one else had ever made him want to be a better person. He wished he could be the kind of man she deserved, but he’d never believe he would be, or that he could ever be worthy of her.
“So, what happened, next?”
“What?” Paul thought she meant what happened after he’d played a game of tug-of-war with God over her.
“What happened after you skipped out on your Salutatorian speech at graduation?”
“Ah. I went back to normal—the Weaver normal. When I got back and endured the first twenty minutes of mom and dad’s lecture, I told them to go to hell, but despite my one-time stand, I fell right back into their hamster wheel. I didn’t know any different. I didn’t know I had choices. So, I had degrees in Business and Marine Biology by the time I was twenty, Business for the parents’ circus, Marine Biology for me. Of course, Dad let me know he thought I’d been on track to do more.” Paul smirked about that.
“Do more, as if what I did had anything to do with him. I’d grown tired. I’d been numb for so long, disillusioned. I was just going through the motions—with a lot of resentment—anger, but besides rebelling with the guys, I didn’t know what else I wanted to do. I started law school, and of course, I still worked for good ole Laird. By the time I held my Juris Doctorate and passed the bar in three states—”
“You’re a lawyer?” Her voice raised in surprise. Her gaze darted to him.
“I never practiced. It was more a status symbol for the parents, but it did prove useful as I focused more and more on work. I was still the information man. My memory—my
skills
made me good at research, getting the information we needed, but I hated sitting at a computer all day. I needed to get out, be more hands on.
“I no longer did the work just for dad anymore. I was good at it, and I made money.” He frowned, thinking about the things he’d done, all in the name of business.
“I got my hands dirty—all that pent up anger had found an outlet. I grew vicious, unwilling to let anyone stand in my way.”
“I don’t believe that,” Rhees said.
“Seriously?” Paul laughed, a little too hard. “Do you think Mr. Meanie-head made his first appearance just for you? No, Baby. Unfortunately, he’d had plenty of practice, and Mr. Meanie-head makes him sound like a children’s cartoon show compared to what he really was—” Paul went quiet, “—
is
.”
“Don’t. He’s not so bad.”
“Bullshit. He made you miserable.” Sometimes Rhees made it hard not to get annoyed with her—when she refused to see him for what he really was, and then sometimes he loved her all the more for that very reason.
“Maybe at first,” she reasoned. “But I saw through him, eventually. You were hurt. He’s your defense mechanism. I had very conflicting feelings for both of you.”
“Um, I don’t think so,” Paul said incredulously.
“I fell in love with him. Maybe I didn’t quite realize it right away, but now I can look back and see how much I cared about you, even when you were acting like a stinker.”
“Stinker?” He laughed. She’d already calmed him down, which was a good thing. He didn’t want to ruin her good mood, the good mood she hadn’t been in for too long. “You’re always justifying or defending my worst personality traits.” He rubbed his eyes. “I thought
I
was your one true love. That bastard, Mr. Meanie-head better leave my wife alone or I’ll beat the crap out of him.”
“No, you won’t. I can handle him myself,” she scolded, but then grew sheepish. “I happen to think he’s cute . . . and kind of
exciting
. I love him, so you’ll have to share.”
Paul rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He stared down at her, no more playful banter. “We’ll see if you’ll still say that when I’m finished telling my story.”
“I don’t want you to finish then. It won’t change my mind—my heart, but because you think it might, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Rhees, if we’re going to survive, we can’t leave all this shit hanging over our heads.” He held her gaze. “No more ticking time bombs between us, waiting to blow us up. Understand?”
She nodded, reluctantly. He fell back down on his back but turned his head to look at her. It took him a minute to get started again. He recounted more things his parents had done, mostly his father, but also things he’d done. It didn’t sound good. Paul had been an angry young man.
“It was all about power, money, booze, and women.” He snorted ironically. “I’d become a younger version of Laird Weaver. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it’s true.”
“No, it’s not. I don’t know him, but I don’t believe—” Paul didn’t seem to hear her, or he wouldn’t listen.
“I missed what Pete had been up to. I—If I hadn’t been so self-absorbed, I would’ve noticed.” Paul closed his eyes and had to take a minute. His mouth ran through several tics. Rhees couldn’t tell if they were sad or angry twitches.
“I’d been so involved in my selfish,
I’ve got to rule the fucking world
, world.” He paused again. “Pete had started doing okay in the business, a little better than okay. Dad had been breaking his own arm patting himself on the back, bragging about how he’d finally whipped Peter into shape, but—” Paul scrunched his face up in pain. “Pete came to me. He was so agitated and . . .
scared
. He told me he was a dead man if I didn’t help him. When he told me what he’d done, I could have killed him myself.”
“But you didn’t!” Her words burst out like a plea. It couldn’t be Pete, Paul’s own brother. He couldn’t be the man Paul told Mitch he’d killed.
“Damned, stupid idiot had gotten himself all wrapped up in some drug ring,” he said through clenched teeth, but not necessarily out of anger. There were too many emotions leaching from him for Rhees to keep up.
“He’d been laundering drug money through dad’s business, making himself look like he was keeping up. Damned fool actually thought he could make dad proud of him, the way he
thought
dad was proud of
me.
” Paul choked out a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and an anguished sob.
“He’d put us all at risk, everything. Of course, I got angry, and threw a tantrum, asking him, over and over again, how he could be so stupid. At first he broke down and cried, begging me to fix it before they found out, but I was so enraged, I couldn’t offer him anything.” Paul’s breathing grew shallow and harsh.
“And then, suddenly, he went off on me, ranting about how he wasn’t like me. I was the favorite son. Smarter, better—” Paul covered his face with his hands while he struggled to regain a little composure. “—he couldn’t make the kind of money dad and I were bringing in, and of course, dad was always there to let him know how he needed to buckle down, try harder—be more like me—Pete was envious of a life
I
despised.” Paul sucked in a few unstable breaths.