Chapter 2 #2
Dr. Colburn frowns. “How so?”
I sigh. “Look, I know everyone says things they don’t mean when they’re angry. But Lissa said some stuff about how Ames probably wouldn’t mind having sex with me.” I meet Dr. Colburn’s eyes. “Just because Ames is gay doesn’t mean he’s into me. That’s not how it works.”
“No, of course not.”
I nod once. “It really riled me up because people have said stuff like that to us since we were kids. It’s like they don’t know what being a best friend means.
Ames became a firefighter because I wanted to be one, and he wanted to watch my back.
We have matching tattoos, for god’s sake.
I love Ames, but we’re not, you know, compatible that way. Romantically.”
“Because… you’re not attracted to him?” the doctor guesses.
“That. Sure. But it’s not just that I’m straight.
I’ve always wanted the whole settled-down, picket-fence thing.
And until recently, I figured Ames would probably be totally happy just hooking up with new people for the rest of his life.
One time, we were on this camping trip, drinking a little, and I was like, ‘Hey, Ames, if we’re not married by the time we’re thirty, we should get married.
Like, as best friends.’ It was a joke. Mostly.
And Ames…” I chuckle to myself, remembering the look of outraged horror on his face.
“He was like, ‘Hey, Robert, how about you fuck right off with your heteronormative bullshit? I’d rather die alone than be your sexless marriage backup plan, thank you.’ Which…
fair enough.” It’s only when I run out of words that I realize I’ve forgotten the initial question. “Uh. Sorry. Big tangent there, huh?”
“Not at all. This is extremely enlightening.”
I shrug uncomfortably and wonder how many more notes she’s added. “If you say so.”
“How’d the argument with Lissa end?”
“Oh.” I rub my lower lip with my thumb. “Well, she shouldn’t’ve said what she said about Ames, but maybe if I’d been a better fiancé, she wouldn’t have felt like it was competition.
A-and I want her to know I’m here to support her in whatever she needs.
So I agreed to the celibacy challenge. And things have been great since then.
” I pick at my jeans again and mutter, “Better than things with me and Ames have been, since he got his new boyfriend.”
“Ames has a boyfriend? So he does do relationships? ”
“This is his first.” I gnaw on a corner of my thumbnail.
“But it’s… weird, honestly. He’s been all secretive about the guy.
When I proposed to Lissa on Valentine’s Day, we went to tell Ames, right?
And he was like, ‘Congrats… and also this is my boyfriend, Erick.’ Then he wrapped himself around some guy I’d never seen before.
” I shake my head. “We talk every day. Why wouldn’t he tell me he was dating someone? ”
“Did you ask him?”
“Yeah. He said he didn’t want to tell me they were ‘talking’ in case it didn’t work out. He apologized too. Like, ‘Sorry, Rob. I should’ve told you.’”
“And what did you say?”
I blink. “I accepted his apology, of course.”
“And did you tell him how you felt? Because it sounds like you might have been confused, or hurt?—?”
“Why would I do that? He’d already apologized ,” I repeat. I’m not sure what I’m not conveying here. “I’m not gonna hammer on the guy. If I’m still feeling some kind of way, that’s on me. Besides, I thought it was over. Like, okay, he didn’t tell me, and that sucked, but… move on.”
“Hmm.”
“Except we didn’t move on.” I gulp down the rest of my water.
“Last week, I pushed him about Erick—just, you know, ‘Why can’t I meet him?’ And ‘If this guy’s not treating you right, you should end it.
’ And Ames agreed, I thought. But since then, he’s avoided me.
He’s not answering my texts like usual. At Axford family dinner, he spent the whole time in the kitchen, teaching his brother’s boyfriend to make rolls instead of watching hockey with me.
And at drill, I asked him what was up, and he was like, ‘Nothing! I’m fine!
Just busy!’” I clear my throat and wish I had more water.
“Ames has never been too busy for me in his life until now, so.”
“I see,” Dr. Colburn says, but she doesn’t share exactly what she sees. “I don’t suppose you’ve told him how you feel?”
I shake my head. “What do you want me to say? ‘Ames, you’re not giving me enough attention because you have a new boyfriend.’ Or ‘Amesie, I’m sad because you’re not answering my texts right away.’” I snort. “No.”
“You could say exactly those things, if that’s how you feel. Especially to your best friend.”
“I prefer not to push my emotions onto other people. I’m like a… a sailboat on a calm lake, moving with the breeze and the tide.” I rock one hand gently. “I don’t cause hurricanes, I ride ’em out.” I try for a smile.
Dr. Colburn sets down her tea and takes off her glasses, cleaning them slowly with a soft cloth from her pocket. When she puts them back on, her expression is thoughtful. “Robbie, I’d like to circle back to something you said earlier about not being good at making decisions.”
“Uh… okay?” I can’t imagine how that will help, but I’ll play along.
“From what you’ve told me today, I’m seeing a pattern,” she says gently. “Now, I don’t know if it’s true or not. That’s for you to decide. I’m just sharing an observation.”
I nod.
“You let Lissa make the wedding decisions. You agreed to a celibacy challenge you don’t particularly want because she was upset. You help your brother, despite two people you care about thinking it’s problematic. And you haven’t been honest with Ames. Is all that accurate? ”
“No,” I say, stung. “None of that’s accurate. I-I’m totally honest with Ames?—”
“So you have told him you’re feeling disconnected?”
My heart’s beating faster, like there’s some danger here I’m not seeing. “Y-you make it sound like I’m a pushover. I’m not. I can be stubborn. And I told you, I make life-or-death decisions all the time?—”
“Not the same thing,” she says gently. “In fact, I’m sure your heightened sense of responsibility makes you excellent at your job—following the rules, taking care of your crew, helping people in the community.
But in your personal life, Robbie, consider whether the choices you’re making will bring you closer to the future you want or simply help you avoid conflict in the short term.
” She smiles. “The trouble with floating on the tide is that so often, we end up in a place we never wanted to be.”
I bounce my knee. I’m trying not to get upset, but it’s hard when she’s making me question every-damn-thing. “I want the people I love to be happy. I work hard to make that happen?—”
“Who’s working hard to make you happy, Robbie?”
“I already am happy.” I flex my fingers and add, “I mean, things aren’t perfect with Ames right now. I do need to fix that. But otherwise, I’m… I’m good.”
Dr. Colburn purses her lips and nods slowly.
“Alright. Well, I would suggest talking to Ames. Asking why he’s pulling away.
It might be for a reason you haven’t even considered.
For example… maybe he’s already thinking about how your friendship will change when you get married and start focusing on your future. Maybe he’s proactively pulling away?—”
“Why would he do that? In my vision for the future, Ames is there too. I mean, yeah—kids, marriage, picket fence, I want all that. But Ames is right beside me the whole time. Living next door, maybe. Having regular barbecues. Teaching my kids the one and only correct way of making scrambled eggs, and… and buying ’em a twelve-foot inflatable skeleton named Reginald that says ‘ Welcome to your doom! ’ in a British accent and makes all the neighborhood kids squeal. ”
She blinks at me. “Pardon?”
“Something Ames did last Halloween.” I wave a hand. ”You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but he’s a big kid himself about holidays.”
“Right. And… does Ames know that’s your vision?”
I want to say of course he knows I never want anything to change between us, but her gentle, relentless questions have eroded my certainty. “I… think?”
“And where do you fit in Ames’s vision for his future?”
“I…” I swallow. “I don’t know.”
Her mouth twists slightly. “Well, I think that’s a good place to start, isn’t it? What if Ames, like you, would really like to be sure about these things but doesn’t feel like he can ask because he doesn’t want to burden you?”
I shake my head. “Ames wouldn’t—” I stop.
In a way, it’d totally fit. Having four older siblings has made Ames pathologically independent and incredibly strong-willed. He keeps a mile-high protective force field around himself—around both of us, usually—and he doesn’t like to ask for anything from anyone, even sometimes from me.
Plus, he’s so fucking protective of my happiness, it’s entirely possible—hell, probable —he wouldn’t tell me how he was feeling if he thought it would cast a shadow over my engagement.
Dr. Colburn goes on like she senses my thoughts. “Why is it that you expect Ames to tell you how he feels when you wouldn’t return the favor? Really consider this, Robbie. Think of it not as asking for validation and reassurance but as offering some to your friend.”
“Oh,” I breathe.
Now, that is something I can do, no problem.
I keep turning it over in my mind, and although the doctor wants to talk a lot more about setting boundaries, I’m pretty much useless for the rest of the session. The second it’s over, I’m out the door, taking the stairs two at a time from her second-floor office to the street.
I need to get to Ames. To talk to him about this.
I stride down Goodfellow Road, legs eating up the asphalt, and turn onto Whether Street. The late-March dusk is cold as balls, especially since I’m not sure where I left my jacket, but I remind myself summer’s around the corner. So close I can taste it in the back of my throat.