Chapter 16 #2
“I want to, Sav. You have shown me all of you, and it’s time I do the same.
” He kisses me gently before guiding me to the box on the counter.
His fingers touch the lid before he gently lifts it.
Inside are countless memorabilia: photos, ticket stubs, a trophy, ribbons, a broken action figure, a smashed snow globe, an old watch, letters, and drawings.
Too many things to count, but I can tell each one holds significance to the man beside me, each one with a story to explain who he is.
“I haven’t opened this in years,” John says, more to himself than me.
“How about we start at the beginning?” I say, handing him a glass of wine, before taking a sip of my own.
John pulls out an old photograph—a Polaroid—and his thumb traces over the smiling faces.
A young boy with a toothy grin holds a trophy high above his head, Bobcats across his chest in white embroidered letters.
His father, I assume, stands behind him, hand on the boy’s shoulder, with an equally bright smile, wearing a hoodie with the same team’s name on it.
Both wear their hats backwards. John sets it down and pulls out another photo, this time of the same boy with his parents.
Then another and another. Each one depicts different moments in time captured on film to be remembered—for better or worse, it would seem.
Finally, he comes across a photo that stops him, and I notice his touch tighten ever so slightly.
Rolling his lips between his teeth, he sets it down on the counter so I can see it, too.
“That’s my father,” he says, pointing to the same man I had seen in the earlier photos.
This time, however, there is something different in the way his father smiles.
His smile no longer reaches his eyes, no longer portrays the same love and light it did in the earlier moments.
“This was taken at my sister’s second birthday party, the same day Mom found out about his first affair. ”
His first affair?
“They spent the entire morning in a screaming match right up until the first person showed up for Ari’s party.
” John shakes his head, staring down at the man in the photo, but I can’t take my eyes off the one next to me.
“Ari was clueless. They told us to go outside and play, but I heard them. I—I heard everything. Obviously, I didn’t understand it all.
I was only ten, but I knew something bad had happened and I was scared shitless of what it meant. ”
John puts the photo down, lifting out a thin, square children’s book.
“They tried to hide the fighting, but they weren’t very good at it.
Even Ari started to notice after a while.
When it would get really bad, she’d sneak into my room, and I’d read her books or tell her stories to try and take her mind off it.
Eventually, they moved into separate rooms, and then after a while, they just stopped talking altogether.
That was the best thing they ever did because he refused to get a divorce. ”
What the hell?
Next, John withdraws the base of what, I think, is supposed to be a snow globe.
In what should be the inside of the globe, a black bear stands on a mountaintop in front of a serene mountainous background outfitted with a log cabin, pine trees, and a sign that reads Great Smoky Mountains.
There are dried sparkles cemented to different parts of the base, obviously from when the glass was broken.
“Then, one day, out of the blue…about six years after that first big fight, we came home from school, and they told us to pack a bag. We were going on a family road trip.” John runs his thumb over the bear’s head.
“I could see right through him—them—but Ari…she thought it meant things were going back to normal. They were trying to act like things were normal, like they were happy, until Ari answered his phone and there was another woman on the other end of the line.”
The tears that brim in his eyes threaten to shatter my heart. Seeing the hurt—the heartbreak—pouring out of him is more than I ever imagined. This is not what I expected.
“Mom walked in, and Ari told her what happened…I watched that entire weekend implode in less than five minutes. He had just bought this for my sister maybe two hours before that, and amid his tirade, he picked it up and threw it across the room.”
“Did he hit you?” I can’t stop myself from asking, even though the thought of it makes me sick.
John shakes his head. “No, he never raised a hand to us. Sometimes, I used to wish he would have. I think that almost would’ve been better than some of the shit he used to say.”
I reach out to cradle his cheek, and he smiles, covering my hand with his. “Why do you keep all of this?”
John shrugs, picking up the watch. He runs his thumb over the face before he drops it back in its hiding place.
“Everything in here is a reminder of the happy times, but also the not-so-great times. At some point, I stopped being able to differentiate, but it reminds me of where I came from and who I don’t want to be.
” He finally looks up. “I don’t want to be like him, Savannah. ”
“You’re not him, John.”
“My mother would’ve said the same when he told her that he didn’t want to be like his father.”
I stand on my tiptoes to get as close to eye level as I can with him. “You are not your father, John Brooks. You are your own person. You have your own victories and you make your own mistakes, but despite those mistakes, it doesn’t make you more like him. It just makes you…you.”
John smiles softly, kissing me. “Thank you, Sav.”
“Why doesn’t your mom leave him?” I ask, not expecting the soft chuckle in response. John takes one of my hands in his, threading our fingers together and bringing the back of my hand to his lips.
“My parents are divorced. Now.” John rolls his eyes. “My father left the day my sister turned eighteen. Took everything with him and moved into one of the wealthiest neighborhoods on the north side of the state. That was…Shit, that was almost five years ago.”
“He left on your sister’s birthday?”
“Waited until Mom couldn’t ask for child support anymore.”
“What a dick.”
“Ari and I are close, and my mom and I have been working on our relationship. I’ll never understand why she stayed, and for a while, I resented her for it.
We didn’t need him. I would’ve done whatever it took to help her make ends meet.
” John fiddles with the ring on my right-hand ring finger—a gold band with a bead-shaped blue topaz stone secured by four prongs, gifted to me by my parents when I graduated high school.
When his eyes find mine again, they’re softer.
“I begged her to leave him, offered to help with the bills, with whatever she needed. She always told me no. I just wanted her to get Ari out of that situation. When I was gone, I thought it would give her the push she needed to leave…They were living separate lives, but she stayed anyway.”
“Until he left her.”
“She and Ari came back from lunch to find his shit gone and divorce papers on the counter.”
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I were. And I was in Europe with EWE. I’ll never forget that phone call.
” John bites down on his bottom lip, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head as if to rid himself of the memory.
“Savannah, I don’t talk about this because I still haven’t dealt with it all.
My dad kicked me out at seventeen because I wasn’t going to college.
He said he wasn’t going to have a son who paraded around in tights for a living and kicked me out two weeks before graduation.
I still feel guilty for leaving my sister behind in that mess.
And the shit with my dad, I’ve never gotten closure.
We don’t talk. We haven’t talked in years. ”
This is a lot of information to process, but it explains so much.
John Brooks is a quiet man. He’s loud and boisterous when he wants or needs to be, but over the last month, I’ve come to see him in a different light.
I’ve seen a side of him most people don’t.
His home, quiet and neutral and serene, reflects the things he’s been craving for so long.
He has no keepsakes because there are none to have.
No photos because they all remind him of the man who abandoned him.
He keeps his family hidden the way he was taught to do, because I imagine his father wasn’t someone who wanted the whole town to know the truth, but also because he wants to do everything he can to protect his sister.
The longing I’ve seen in his eyes when he looks at my family, wishing for the same. It all makes sense…
“Do you want to talk to him?” I ask, unsure whether it’s the right thing to say.
John rubs a hand through his hair, chewing on the corner of his lip. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say to Leeland Cabot.”
Cabot? I thought his last name was Brooks.
“Brooks was my middle name,” John says, as if he can read my mind. “I dropped Cabot when I turned eighteen because I didn’t want to be associated with him.”
“And what about your mom. How is your relationship with her now?”
“We’re still mending fences. I helped her buy a house a few years ago.
Helped Ari pay for college, get a car, all of the things our dad should’ve helped with.
I don’t—I don’t say all of this to make you feel any certain way, Savannah.
I want you to understand why I am the way I am, sometimes.
I’ve had to step up and make sure my family is taken care of. And I don’t—”
“You don’t have to handle this alone, John. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know that. I’ve known that, but it’s not always easy to talk about.”
“Well, whenever you want to—whenever you’re ready to—tell me more, I’ll be right here.”
“How did I get so lucky to find you?” John asks, tugging me into his arms and kissing my forehead.