Chapter Twenty-Four
After all these years, Brandon couldn’t believe he was going home. He’d opted to take the bus to Pennsylvania from Port Authority since it was cheapest and it would leave him in the center of Reading. From there he could take a cab.
He gave the driver his ticket and settled into his window seat, staring out of the glass as they began the two-and-a-half-hour ride back to where he’d sworn he’d never return. Soon the traffic of midtown Manhattan was behind him, and they lumbered onto the NJ Turnpike. His thoughts turned inward.
Was Valerie right? Going over his relationship with Tash from the first kiss in the kitchen to the night of ice cream and the incredible lovemaking that had followed, Brandon didn’t think so. From his very first glimpse of Tash, before he knew who he was, Brandon’s body had a visceral reaction to him—an indefinable tug to discover who he was. Brandon shivered in his seat, the memory of Tash’s strong arms holding him down, his cock pushing inside Brandon, forever marking him, making Brandon one with Tash.
It went beyond the physical. If his time with Tash had taught him anything, it was that Brandon was not the long-ago little boy his brothers, especially Luke, tried to protect and shelter. Tash treated him like a man. Before he could move ahead and show Tash how he was willing to fight for their relationship, Brandon had to be able to live in the open and not be afraid of who might be following him for the rest of his life.
It wasn’t only about him now. He was letting not only Tash down, but the kids at his school. He’d left word that he needed the rest of the week off and called Dwayne’s parents and Wilson’s mother to say their after-school sessions would have to be postponed this week. Hopefully, he’d be coming back.
After he’d fled Tash’s house, he’d gone home to lick his wounds. The comfortable apartment Esther had created in her basement was the perfect refuge; she’d given him two rooms, both large and airy. They were freshly painted in a pale yellow, with a large sectional sofa upholstered in some kind of soft, velvety fabric. There was a flat-screen television in the wall unit and bookshelves Esther told him to fill up with his books, as Drew had taken all of his when he’d moved. There were also two leather recliners, a little cracked with age but so damn comfortable to curl up in and read. His bedroom had a queen-sized mattress and another television set as well. Of course there was no kitchen, as Esther insisted he join her and Louisa for meals if he wanted to. The way those two women cooked, he’d be crazy not to.
Now he understood why everyone treated her as they did, and especially why Ash loved her so fiercely. She was one special lady. Even last night, though it was late by the time he’d gotten home, she had saved him something to eat, “in case you were hungry,” she’d said after he’d opened the door to her knock, to find her standing there with a plateful of food.
~ ~
“Please come in.” He held the door open for her and took the plate from her hands. He’d left his appetite back at the carriage house but didn’t want to seem impolite, so he set the food on the coffee table. “Why don’t you sit down, and we can have a talk? I’m sorry I’ve been so absent lately. I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you.”
Brandon watched Esther lower herself into the chair. He was as protective of her as his other brothers and vowed to stay at the house more often and help her and Louisa. A lump swelled in his throat. If he was still able to be around.
“What’s wrong, Brandon?” Her gaze, sharp as always, searched his face. “Not that I don’t want you here; of course, I’m delighted to have you home. I thought you’d be spending all your time with Sebastian and was surprised to see you come in.”
He should’ve known someone as astute as Esther would see right through him. Instead of responding, he answered her with a question of his own. “Why don’t you call him Tash, like everyone else?”
She settled herself more comfortably on the chair. “I call all the boys by their full names because their parents chose those names; they have some underlying meaning. None of them ever try to correct me anymore. It’s one of the little perks of getting old,” she said, her voice tinged with humor. “I can say almost anything I want and get away with it.”
Despite his unhappiness, Brandon couldn’t help but smile at her.
“Now, you haven’t answered my question. Why are you here and not with your young man?”
Fresh pain sliced through him. “He doesn’t believe in us. His sister thinks I’m using him to find myself and latched onto him as a security blanket.” The memory of listening to those painful words hurt as acutely now as they did when he’d first heard them. Brandon squashed the black thoughts he’d had about Tash’s sister. He hadn’t meant to unburden himself to Esther, but she was so damn easy to talk to. His eyes burned, but pride wouldn’t allow him to cry.
Her knowing eyes held his, but when she spoke, it was with the softness of love. “You know, family thinks they have a right no one else does because they want to protect the ones they love from getting hurt. That means they might say or do things that to an outsider may strike them as being mean. In their heart, that person believes they are doing the right thing.” Esther’s kind smile only made Brandon’s guilt rise at the hateful feelings he’d had only moments before for Tash’s sister.
“I’m going to tell you a story. Drew’s sister and Jordan both had reservations about his relationship with Ash. You see, when your brother met my grandson, Drew was coming off a divorce from a woman none of us liked. None of his friends or even Rachel understood the attraction Drew had for Asher.” Her lips curved up in a smile. “Plus, Asher didn’t have the best reputation, if you know what I mean.”
He’d heard about Ash’s reputation, but as for Drew, Brandon was stunned. He didn’t know Drew had been married before, to a woman. He and Ash were so much in love it was impossible to think of one of them without the other. “I had no idea.”
Esther nodded. “Rachel spoke to Drew about it, and he assured her he loved Asher and knew his own feelings. Jordan, on the other hand, had a much harder time of it, and that, plus the death of Keith, Jordan’s fiancé, destroyed their friendship for almost a year.”
“But Drew stood up to his family and didn’t allow them to minimize what he believed in. He trusted himself, Ash, and the love they had.” Brandon leaned forward in his seat and hugged himself around the waist—as if to hold back all the pain threatening to burst from his body. God, he hurt so bad. It took several minutes before he could find his voice to speak again. “I’m afraid Tash still has reservations that I’m too young for him, and his sister played on those insecurities.”
A sigh escaped Esther’s lips. “I’ve seen so much hatred and loss in this world. I sometimes wonder why people still believe they have the right to control other people’s lives.” She leaned forward and placed her small hand on his knee. “You must prove her wrong, prove them all wrong, all the doubters. I see what you feel for Sebastian, and it’s mirrored in his eyes. Don’t let age or time hold you back. When it’s the right person, you know. You feel it”—she tapped her chest with her other hand—“here, where it counts.”
“I also have that legal problem to contend with.”
She nodded and stood up. He stood as well. “I know. But Asher is a wonderful lawyer, the best. If he can’t help you, he’ll find the person who can and spare no expense.” She took his hands in hers. “To have found you has given him back his life. Even Drew wasn’t able to give him complete joy.”
He squeezed her hand gently. “I never thought to have a family. Thank you for including me in yours.”
“Darling boy.” She patted his cheek. “There is no yours or mine. There’s only ours. You are as dear to me as Asher, Drew, and all my family. You are part of us.” After wiping her eyes with her handkerchief, she continued. “Asher will take care of you.”
After kissing her good-bye, he put the food in the little refrigerator, having no appetite to even look at it. He stretched out on his bed and made a decision. No one but himself would be in control of his future—not Ash, not Luke or even Tash. Before he fell asleep, he knew what he had to do.
~ ~
By the time they reached the first rest stop in Hellertown, his stomach was in knots at the simple sight of the familiar blue, white, and yellow license plates on the cars whizzing by on the highway. When a state trooper vehicle drove by, he almost changed his mind about going back home and confronting his past. The resolve hit him, though, to deal with his problems head-on and face the day. He checked his phone and listened to the messages from Tash, begging him to call. Brandon’s heart squeezed in his chest at the thought of causing Tash pain, but he knew this final hurdle to overcome would be either the beginning of their lives or the end. There were other messages from Ash and Luke and even one from Gage. All pleading with him to call them and let them know where he was.
And though he deleted the calls, it wasn’t without a sense of wonder that only a month or so ago he’d had no one who cared: no family, no real friends, no love. Finding Luke and Ash had brought closure to their circle and a sense of completeness. And falling in love with Tash had given him a life he’d only thought possible in movies. No one could replace him, and he deserved a man who could be there for him, free and unencumbered. Brandon wanted to give that to him.
The bus revved up and pulled back onto I-78. Though the morning sky was a bright crisp blue with high white clouds hanging about, there were no gloriously colored trees flashing their autumnal foliage. Past rains had stripped the trees bare, and the rolling hills in the background were that flat dull brown that spoke of a winter yet to come. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
He was awakened by the ringing of his phone. Without thinking, he hit Answer.
“Brandon, is that you? Are you all right?” The anxiety in Ash’s voice muted its normal hard tone to one full of pain. “Please, tell me where you are; don’t run away from us.”
“I’m sorry, but I need to do this on my own. You all can’t protect me forever.” Brandon pushed the button and muted it, then shoved it in his coat pocket. It vibrated a few more times, but he ignored it, choosing to look out of the window and watch the cars and trucks speed by. He loved them all so much but refused to drag them deeper into the sordid mess he’d made of his life. If he kept them at a distance, perhaps it would be easier for them to forget him if he had to go to jail. He pressed his cheek into the rough fabric of the seat, wetting it with his tears.
Another half hour passed, and they pulled into Allentown. He got off the bus to stretch his legs. The bus depot was next to an old-fashioned diner, and Brandon suddenly realized how hungry he was, having skipped both dinner the night before and breakfast that morning. He approached the driver who stood in the chilly air, catching a quick smoke outside.
“Do I have time to run in and get something to eat?”
The driver exhaled a long gust of smoke to the side and checked his watch. “You got ten minutes. I don’t wait, neither.”
With a nod, Brandon ran into the diner. The surprisingly comforting smell of hamburger grease and french fries hit him. The place looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1970s; white walls were covered with a grayish film, and framed album covers from the 1950s and ’60s hung in no particular arrangement. The booths were upholstered in a once-sparkly vinyl that had long since cracked and grown dull with age and years of bodies sliding in and out of the seats. There were the requisite mini jukeboxes on each table that Brandon bet, had he checked, wouldn’t have a song newer than when Bill Clinton was president.
He ordered a turkey sandwich from the desultory waitress standing behind the horseshoe-shaped front counter and grabbed a bag of chips from the rack. She assured him with a snap of her gum that it wouldn’t take long, so he sat in one of the spinny chairs at the counter.
“Brandon? Is that you, man?” A voice he hadn’t heard in years called out from the pass-through of the open-air kitchen that ran the length of the front of the restaurant.
Brandon whirled around and stared in shock as a guy he’d gone to high school with, Jacob Zimmerman, came out from behind the swinging doors, wiping his hands on his apron.
“Ahh, hey, yeah. Jacob, wow.” Brandon was at a loss for words.
“Holy shit, where did you disappear to? Like one day you were there and the next you weren’t.” Jacob’s round face was screwed up as if the thought process was hard for him to continue.
“I, um, went to New York and became a teacher.”
“Cool. Are you back here to live or to see your mom?” A sympathetic look crossed his face. “Sorry about your dad.”
“S’okay.” He craned his neck to see the waitress walking toward him with a bag he hoped contained his sandwich. “Um, I came back to take care of some things.” He paid for the sandwich and chips and turned back to Jacob, who still stood waiting as if they were going to have a long conversation. “Sorry, Jacob, but I can’t stay; my bus is getting ready to leave.”
With a shrug, Jacob began to walk away, then stopped. “Good seeing you, Brandon. Don’t be a stranger.” He walked back to the kitchen.
Brandon pondered what Jacob had said as the bus started up again. Did Jacob mean it when he said not to be a stranger? Was it possible not everyone in high school had hated him? Perhaps the misery he’d suffered at home had twisted his outlook on everyone he knew. He’d trusted no one then, and that had continued into his adult life. Now he wasn’t sure he even trusted himself.
The miles rolled by as he munched his sandwich. Familiar sights sped past him on the road: rolling farmland, all brown and withered now, but in his mind, he knew come the spring the farmers would be out there with their tractors or, if they were Amish, with their teams of mules, churning up the dirt, the scent of manure hanging heavy in the air. So different from the concrete streets of the city, the sidewalks jammed all day with people hurrying, racing to catch up to a life they never stopped to savor.
The careers his brothers had chosen, law and finance, held no interest for him. He respected them for their accomplishments, but to him, nothing was more important than feeding a child’s mind. That moment when a child’s face lit up with understanding was the greatest of his achievements. Even now he missed the classroom and his students. Guilt washed over him at the thought of disappointing Dwayne and Wilson.
The bus pulled into the inner-city bus terminal in downtown Reading. It was totally unchanged from when he’d left eight years earlier—poor, nondescript, and gritty. Not a place to hang around. He needed to double back somewhat, so he opted for a cab and hailed one that sat idling across the street.
It felt funny to be traveling the streets of this once-familiar town, looking for places he’d known like the back of his hand, only to see they’d gone out of business, replaced by a few trendy little shops, restaurants, and coffeehouses. It couldn’t hide what he saw on the side streets—houses boarded up and stores with old for-rent signs hanging in the windows. Apparently, the economic boom hadn’t reached this far inside the state.
They’d gotten back on the highway, and he was grateful the cabdriver was silent. He had no desire to make small talk. After a fifteen-minute drive back up Route 222, it was only a short distance from the exit. His stomach churned as they pulled onto the street.
A fog of poverty and disrepair hung over the house. The wooden front steps sagged to the right, and the color had faded to something indeterminate—not brown, not gray. It was as if an artist had finished painting the picture and then smudged it, blurring all the lines.
“This it, buddy?” The cabdriver met his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah.” Brandon paid the fare and got out. The nauseating smell from the chicken coops down the street assailed him. He held his breath and ran up the rickety steps.
From somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. Plastic furniture stood about on the porch. Nausea cramped his stomach, and he wanted to turn around and run again, but this was something he needed to do. He knocked on the door.
From within, he heard shuffled steps. The inner door opened, and a woman peered through the torn outer screen door. “Oh my God.”
“Hi, Mom. Can I come in?”