Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
DIMA
Val’s invitation to meet for dinner was an unexpected surprise, one Dima dared not decline. Val’s hug when they met outside the front door loosened the knot of nerves tangled in Dima’s gut, as did the easy small talk they exchanged through waiting to be seated, then ordering their food.
His brother waited until they’d finished most of the queso before asking, “Heard from Jake lately?”
“We chatted on the phone last night.” His nerves returned with a vengeance, and Dima wished he’d popped an antacid before leaving work. Or ordered a larger margarita. “We talk most nights, actually,” he added. He broke apart a large tortilla chip and chanced a glance across the table. He welcomed Val’s contemplative expression over the anger of the last time they’d met in person. Almost a full month ago, which meant nearly as long since he’d watched Jake disappear through airport security with a last wave goodbye.
“Good. He’s texted me here and there. He finally told me why they recalled him, even though it’s total bullshit, so I’m…glad he has you to lean on.” Val tugged the queso bowl closer and dug through the basket for the perfect chip. “Not a fling, then?”
“A fling implies both casual and more than once.” Dima shrugged at Val’s questioning noise. “I’ve spent a long time sticking to casual hookups. Jake is the first person in ages who’s been…more than once.”
“Spare me the TMI, please, brother. This is why I wanted you to leave him alone,” Val said, glaring. “Jake deserves way more than a fling.”
“And I never said Jake was casual,” Dima shot back.
The server arrived with their meals, interrupting their rising tempers. Dima didn’t want another fight with his brother, which meant putting all his cards on the table. Sharing truths about himself long hidden. This conversation was long overdue, but Jake only formed a small part of it. “I was with someone, a long time ago. During my fellowship in South Africa.”
He’d meant the reveal as an olive branch, but Val’s face darkened further. “You returned to the U.S. to accept guardianship of me when Mom died. You left them behind?”
No. Sipho left Dima first, losing his life in a senseless car accident and shattering Dima’s heart. “No, he…passed away. Shortly before I returned home.”
All traces of anger vanished as Val grabbed Dima’s hand from across the table. “Shit. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” He’d abandoned his original plan to assume custody of his brother and bring him to Cape Town, unable to spend a moment more in the city where the echoes of happiness taunted him around every corner. “For a long time, I was mourning him, and mourning Mom, and raising you. Not interesting in finding anything else, and then it was easy to use you as a distraction. Guess it became habit, even when you grew older.”
Habit. Excuse. Same difference. Dima squeezed Val’s hand, then stole his back to resume eating.
Val frowned at his enchilada. “I feel bad you were alone for so long.”
“I wasn’t alone,” Dima said. “I had you, Valera.”
As he intended, Val rolled his eyes at the traditional diminutive of his full name, which he claimed was inefficient and defeated the purpose of a nickname. “And now you have Jake, I guess? Because he, uh, made it clear in his texts that he wants you.”
“He made it pretty clear to me too. Took him a while to wear me down, but now… It should have been easy to lose my attachment when he’s been gone for weeks, but I can’t imagine letting him go.”
Too late, he realized how that might come across, but Val nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I worked so hard to keep him as a friend when we didn’t work out.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but why didn’t?—?”
“Nope.” Val swiped his fork through the air, interrupting Dima’s question as a blush bloomed on his cheeks. “That way lies more TMI.”
Dima chuckled. “I can’t believe I raised such a prude.”
“And I can’t believe you were slutting around this whole time and I never knew.” Cocking his head, Val asked, “Wait, so Sage did run into you at a club? I figured he was fucking with me.”
“We’re not continuing this line of conversation,” Dima said, “because Sage is now your husband, and what I know about that club means TMI for me.” He drained the last of his margarita.
“Yes, fair,” Val agreed in a rush. Then, he paused, eyebrows knitting together. “But here’s what I don’t get. You were so open with me about your HIV diagnosis from day one when you came home. And even when I was a dumb teenager still thinking I was straight, you were always so awesome and supportive about Sage and Weston being queer that I never once hesitated about coming to you when I thought I might be too. Why keep that part of yourself from me? Why trust me with your health, but not with your heart?”
Dima fiddled with his fork, searching for an answer. “The first part was because I was protecting you. The second part…putting up all these walls meant putting them up around you, too. I guess that was me protecting myself. But maybe I don’t need to anymore.”
“From Jake? No,” Val said. “I think I got mad because I wanted to protect both of you. And then I stayed mad because I realized you’d been keeping things from me. But I get it, now. And, honestly? There’s no one I trust more with Jake’s heart—or yours.”
“Thank you.” His brother’s support lifted Dima’s spirits almost as high as if he had Jake tucked next to him in this booth. “It won’t be as good as yours, but split a piece of flan with me for dessert?”
“Yes, and damn straight it’s not as good as mine.”
The snarky banter they exchanged through the rest of the meal truly meant a return to their status quo, and Dima snatched away the bill before Val tried to hand over his credit card to split the cost. After, as they exited the restaurant into the brisk autumn air, only the knots of missing Jake lingered in Dima’s stomach. He hoped that, someday soon, evenings like this included both Jake and Sage—and even Weston.
As if he sensed the direction Dima’s thoughts travelled, Val said, “Say hi to Jake when you talk tonight.”
“I will.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Dima dug it out. Jake’s photo flashed on the screen. Maybe he’d sensed them. Dima waved Val closer and answered, putting them on speaker. “Hey, I just got out of dinner with Val. I promise we’re both in one piece.”
“Hi, Jake!” Val called. “Only minor scrapes and bruises.”
“Good. That’s—I’m glad. Good.”
Dima had hoped for laughter, not the obvious stress edging Jake’s words. He dragged his brother out of the flow of sidewalk traffic until they huddled over the device against the restaurant’s brick exterior. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Nothing. Maybe. Or everything?” Now a laugh came, but one devoid of humor. “Depends on Monday.”
“What happens Monday, buddy?” Val’s concerned expression as he asked likely mirrored Dima’s
Jake’s shaky exhale whooshed over the connection. “Just a meeting with leadership where I learn whether I get to stay in the military or not.”
“They’re not gonna discharge you over this,” Val said. “Did you hear from Finn? I asked him to call you last week.”
Dima had met their friend Finn a few times, a nurse with the Air National Guard at the base where Sage worked. Dima also spoke to him the other day, and the guy knew his stuff, especially since he used to work in whatever department approved people for deployment. Dima wished he shared Val’s optimism, but working in academia meant a more cynical view of bureaucratic structures and the military-industrial complex than his little brother.
“Yeah, he called,” Jake said. “But you know how this shit works. It’s not about HIV anymore. Now it’s whether I’m worth all the trouble that’s been caused over me.”
Dima barely had a handle on the medical side of this drama. Joining the military never crossed his mind, even before his own HIV diagnosis, and so much about his brother’s world remained truly alien to him. He didn’t have the knowledge or experience to do more than listen and support over the past few weeks, hating he was too far away to wrap Jake in his arms.
Val scoffed. “They’d be crazy to let you go. And if they did, you’d go and get a cushy civilian contracting gig making twice as much.”
Silence from the other end of the phone. “Jake?” Dima asked.
“No, I won’t. I don’t even have an associate’s degree yet. I barely have all my certifications for the job I already do. That means no career prospects. No job means no health insurance, and I’m not counting on the VA for shit. So, the only way I can afford my meds is if I stay here with my parents.”
Dima had heard enough about Mr. and Mrs. Nichols over the past few weeks not to look forward to meeting them anytime soon. No way in hell would he allow Jake to remain in a tiny town with barely any job opportunities, and none in the fields Jake had trained in. Found his passion in.
“Fuck that,” Val said, beating Dima to the punch. “You’ll come back to Maryland.”
“What, and live in your basement?”
“No,” Dima said. “You’ll stay with me.” The offer spilled from his lips with no conscious thought. But once the words were out in the world, he knew without a trace of doubt he meant them with his whole heart. Jake being anywhere else than with Dima was…unthinkable.
“I just said I can’t afford rent and my meds!”
Jake’s pitch rose along with his anxiety, and Dima gripped his phone tighter. “Jake!” he said. Gentling his tone, he continued, “Sweetheart, I never needed to charge you rent. I miss you like hell. I want you with me. The rest we can figure out.”
Silence dragged again, this time long enough to be painful. In a quiet voice, Jake asked, “Really?”
“Really.” Staring Val straight in the eye, wishing he could also assure Jake with more than words alone, Dima repeated, “You will always have a home with me.”
“Okay.” Jake’s breath hitched. Dima had never seen Jake cry. If hearing his tears over the phone wrecked him this much, he vowed to do everything in his power to ensure Jake never had reason to cry again. “Okay,” he said again, voice stronger. “Shit, I have to go. I’m calling from the driveway again, and Mom is watching me from the front window.”
“Call me later, please,” Dima said.
“It’ll be late when we finish dinner?—”
As if Dima cared about the time difference. “It’s Friday. Call me before you go to bed. Please.”
“I will,” Jake said. “I gotta go. Bye.”
“Bye, sweetheart.” Val echoed the farewell without the endearment, and Dima ended the call. He blew a heavy sigh and tucked his phone away. “Fuck. You really think they won’t discharge him?”
“I stand by what I said. They’d be idiots to let him go. But…it’s the military. Things don’t always make sense.” Val’s eyes narrowed under the streetlights as he studied Dima for a beat. “You love him.”
Dima might be a medical doctor, with multiple degrees, but he’d known since Val was young that his baby brother was the smarter of them. “I’m not having this conversation with you before I’ve had it with Jake.” He wouldn’t deny it, either.
“That’s not a no, Dmitri.”
He shook his head and shoved his brother down the sidewalk. He refused to engage in Val’s knowing smirk until they arrived at the parking lot, where Dima had found a spot next to Val’s Tesla. Before they split to go their separate ways, he tugged Val into a long, tight hug.
Val clutched him close, then patted the side of Dima’s face before stepping away. He opened his car door and paused. “Hey, Dima.”
Dima fumbled with his keys at the driver’s side door of his Mazda. “Yeah?”
“What was his name?”
He didn’t need to ask who Val meant. “Sipho Theron.”
“I wish I’d gotten to meet him.”
“Me too, Valera.” The smiles he and his brother exchanged carried none of the tension of the past month. “Me too.”