9. Wren
9
WREN
…six weeks later
“Hey, hey, baby sister,” my brother says when he finally answers his phone.
“Hey, hey, big brother. How’s that cute as fuck nephew of mine?”
“Cute as ever,” he replies, and I can hear in his voice how happy he is. It’s been a while since I heard him like this. It’s been a rough time since we lost Maddie, but my brother has managed to pull himself out of the ashes and is living again.
“What’s up?” he asks, snapping me from thoughts of my late sister-in-law.
“Nothing, just calling for a chat,” I tell him.
“Why do you sound like your dog just died?”
“Because Stefan is going to die … by my hands. I swear, Jaxson hates me and that’s why he stuck me with this douche.” I’ve been here for a few months already and just when I think I have Stefan on track, he goes and does something stupid and newsworthy. Then within the same breath, he’s down at the Children’s Center being human and nice. I always knew this assignment would be hard, but he might be the first client I cannot overhaul. This man gives Jekyll and Hyde a run for their money, but it’s the good side of him that keeps me persevering with my assigned task.
“Or he stuck him with you because you’re the best at what you do. Oh, and FYI, Mom has a feeling about you two.”
“Mom and her feelings, but I swear, this time she couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Mmmhmpf,” he tells me, and if I know my brother, he’ll be rolling his eyes. “You and I both know Mom is never wrong.”
“This time she is wrong with a capital W-R-O-N-G, wrong … and with twenty gazillion exclamation marks at the end. I would rather glue my vagina closed with Gorilla Glue than ever, E V E R, let Doucheman and his dick or lips near me.” Near silently, I add, “Again.” I’m glad I can hear Bluey in the background, and I send a silent thank you to my nephew for the distraction because he hopefully didn’t hear my slip of the tongue. My brother yells at my nephew to turn it down, and I imagine the glare he’ll be throwing his dad right now. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree there. My brother and his son are two peas in a pod, and it seems Bluey wasn’t loud enough because my brother asks, “Did you quietly say again?”
“No,” I hiss. “Why would you even put that thought into the atmosphere? My vagina and his cock will never meet.”
“Again,” he can’t help but add.
“Ugh, you’re just as annoying as him.”
“Yet you still love me, Wren.”
“Not right now I don’t, but forget about me, how you doing?”
“I’m actually doing okay,” he replies, and I can tell from the tone of his voice, he means it.
“That’s so great to hear. I was worried about you for a while there.”
“To be honest, I was too, but Fletch and I are finding a new norm, and we’re slowly getting there. Don’t get me wrong, there are some days when it hits me like a linebacker, but those days are few and far between now. I don’t think I’ll ever get over her loss, but each day is getting easier.”
“Good, ’cause I’d hate to have to come there and kick your ass.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad,” Fletcher shouts. “We can go. Bluey is done.”
“Where you guys off to?”
“You’ll be so jealous, Sis. Fletch and I are off to the store to get stuff for dinner.”
“Totes NOT jealous,” I say with a laugh. I despise grocery shopping with a fiery passion, and I guarantee you if home delivery groceries weren’t already invented, I would have invented it. “Why don’t you just online shop? No pants or bra are needed, and you can do it drinking a beer.”
“I don’t want to think about you pantless or braless.”
“I’m both of those right now,” I tease, and if I weren’t still working, I totally would be.
“I’m hanging up now, love your face.”
“Me and my pantless and bralessness love you too.”
Tossing my phone down onto the coffee table in the living room, I fall back into the sofa and sigh. This thing is like a hug so I take a moment to appreciate it. With a smile, I think of my brother and how far he’s come of late. Losing Mads was hard for him, and we nearly lost him too, but thankfully, we were able to stage an intervention just after I moved here and get him the help he needed to get back on track.
…My MacBook starts to ring, and I race up to my room to answer. Today is the day we confront Penn. It’s time he pulls his head out of his ass and starts living again. He has a little boy to think about. He lost his mother, he doesn’t need to lose his father too.
The front door opens and Penn steps inside. I’m stuck here in LA so I’m attending this intervention via FaceTime. Without him uttering a word, I can feel the sass from him through the screen. This isn’t going to be easy, my brother is stubborn at times.
“What’s going on?” We’re all silent as we watch Penn walk farther into the room, “Someone wanna start talking?”
“Hello, Penn. I’m Dr. Nina. Your family is concerned ? —”
“I’m fine,” he interrupts, sneering at the doctor that Mom and Dad reached out to. He looks around at each of us, his eyes land on mine through the screen and he gives me a look that says, I hate you right now. His gaze flicks around the room again before he repeats, “I’m fine. Really.”
“Penn, you’re kidding yourself if you think you’re fine. You are anything but, and we’re worried about you,” I say.
“I’m fine,” he hisses again, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Then proving just how not fine he is, he marches into the kitchen, grabs a beer from the refrigerator, pop the top off, and takes a sip.
A scoff slips out and it echoes through the speakers. “You’re so fucking fine that you’re drinking a beer at nine fifteen in the morning. You look like a fucking hobo. When was the last time you shaved? Showered? Huh?”
“What do you know? You’re however many fucking miles away in Los Angeles.”
“I have eyes, moron, I can see you’re falling apart. You need help.”
“I’m fucking fine,” he growls again. I feel like throwing that line from The Italian Job about what fine stands for, but Dad beats me to speaking.
“Penn!” Dad shouts. “Enough is enough. You need help.”
We go round and round, and it feels like I’m dealing with Stefan and not my brother. But when Dr. Nina asks him a question, you can see the light bulb go off in his mind and then he utters the words we all wanted to hear, “I … I need help. I’m so sorry for acting like ? —”
“A stubborn jackass douchehole,” I interrupt, causing him to laugh. A real Penn laugh.
“Yeah, that.”
“Penn, there’s only enough room for one stubborn jackass doucheman in my life, and that position is already filled. I, we, we all want happy-go-lucky Penn back. I know it’s probably been said, but Maddie wouldn’t want you wallowing like this. She’d want you to be the best dad/mom you can be for your son, and she’d want you to be happy.”
He drops his head and focuses on his feet, well, I thought it was his feet. “Mads loved this rug. As soon as she saw it, she fell in love but it was a thousand bucks. She refused to pay that much for ‘something people are going to walk over’ but I saw that sparkle in her eyes so I went back the next day and bought it. She was so mad at me for spending that much money on a rug. I suggested we put it down, see it in place and then we could return it. I didn’t want her to be upset over an area rug but as soon as it was down, that glint from the store was back. She was glowing and I knew we were keeping it. We made love right there and then on this thousand-dollar rug, and it just so happened to be when we conceived Fletch. Funny story, he got his name from this rug ’cause it’s called The Fletcher.”
“Eeeeew,” I screech and gag. “I walk on that thing … with bare feet.”
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you Mads and I have also done it on the couch, the bed in the spare room, the kitchen island.”
Conversation turns to the specifics so I log off. I can’t do much from LA, and as I said earlier, I already have one douche to look after.
Shaking off the memory of that day, I head into the kitchen to grab a drink of water and start on dinner. Glancing down, I catch sight of the rug beneath my feet and my eyes widen. “It’s a Fletcher,” I mumble. It’s the same one as Penn’s, and seeing it hits me in the chest like a freight train. Why did my sister-in-law have to die? Why is my nephew without a mom when there’s child molesters and rapists roaming free and breathing? Why is Doucheman able to be a douche and Mads is six feet under?
Dropping to my knees, I cry at the cruelness of the world.
Arms wrap around me and a deep voice murmurs “Shhhh” over and over. The sound of their voice calms me, and when I look up, I’m shocked at who I see.