15. Haze
15
HAZE
I close my computer just as my phone rings. It’s not like I was working, anyway. Who the hell wants to grade papers? I have two classes; you’d think I could do this easily enough. I suppose it’s not that I can’t. It’s just that it’s too damn boring.
Whoever is calling might as well be a damned savior.
A smile climbs my face when I see it’s my brother. I answer. “Hey.”
“Hey. This a bad time?”
“Nope. I’m staring at papers and not grading them. I don’t think I’ve gotten so far as to have even read the name at the top of the first one.” Oren laughs. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. Just heading to the arena for Adak’s game. You watching tonight?”
“Yes. Brek, Lev, and Briar are coming over.”
“Briar bringing his family?”
I smile. “Yes.”
“You finally going to brave it up and hold Emerson?” Oren teases.
“Don’t place any bets, but we’ll see.”
He laughs.
“Hey, before I forget to ask. You and Adak are coming for Christmas, yeah?”
“Yes, if that’s okay. Adak has an entire twelve days off!”
“That’s incredible.”
“For real. What’s the closest town? Flagstaff, right? We’ll get a hotel room there.”
“No way. I have two spare rooms. But if you don’t want to stay with me, there are cottages right next door, cabins on the other side of the property or if you’re truly determined to stay in a hotel, there’s one right here on the VD property.”
Oren’s quiet for a second. “What?”
I laugh. “Yep. It’s a damn trip. I’m excited for you to see it so you can gawk with me over how the 2% live.”
“You’re one of those 2% now,” he says.
“Oh god, not a chance. I don’t make nearly enough to be in that crowd. I’m an imposter. I hang out on the edge of their lives and beg for scraps.”
Oren laughs again. I love when he laughs. I’ve lived almost my entire life without hearing it.
“Okay. I’ll give Adak his options and get back to you.”
I grin as I get to my feet and throw my backpack over my back. No use staying here any longer. Besides, if I’m going to get ready for game day on the east coast, I need to head home now and prepare some damn snacks.
“What’s new with you?” I ask.
He sighs. “Nothing. Just living. Working. You know, peaceful crap.”
I smile. There’s a pause in the connection as my phone connects to Bluetooth when I get into my car. When it comes back online and I’ve pulled into traffic, I say, “Hey, can I ask you something kinda personal?”
Oren’s amusement reflects in his voice. “Sure.”
“I’m not sure regret is going to be the right word here, but I’m going to use it. Do you ever regret going straight from Dad’s to Adak’s without taking time for yourself?” I’m positive that didn’t come out exactly right. My suspicion is confirmed when Oren responds.
“What do you mean?”
“So, in a way I know you can relate to, I lived in a shell for twenty years, doing everything to blend in at home, so there was nothing that stuck out to them. Nothing for them to comment on. I refrained from having an opinion, likes, dislikes, personality.”
Oren laughs, though it’s not the kind of laugh that says this is funny. “I know that feeling.”
“I knew you would. Now that I’m free of that, I’m learning to rewrite all that neutrality. Finding my style and forming my own opinions. Finding a voice when I disagree or have a question.”
“I know that feeling too,” Oren says, his voice quieter.
I nod. “I appreciate being able to… not to sound corny or cliché, but I like being able to spread my wings and figure out who I am. It helps me understand more about myself with each person I meet and every interaction outside of my friends, you know?”
“Completely.”
“So, I guess what I’m asking is whether you ever wish you could do that on your own? You’re having to learn all that with Adak and I’m sure that makes you mindful of his thoughts and opinions and stuff. Do you ever regret not taking time on your own to learn who you are without having to take another person into account?” Hopefully, that was more articulate than the initial question.
“No,” Oren answers, and honestly, I’m not surprised. “I’m going to say upfront that we’re different people, and it’s completely okay that you prefer to learn about yourself on your own.”
I smile. “Thanks, and I know.”
“I think I’d lose my mind if I had to learn to navigate the world on my own. I’ve spent so long as a blank slate, living a life that was dictated for me. If I were to be thrown into the world with no guidance, no support, and not knowing shit about myself, never mind how to fucking function? Uh-uh.”
“I see your point.”
Oren sighs. “For me, I know this is exactly how I need to live. It’s how I want to live. I spent twenty years being unloved by everyone around me, unwanted and hated. I needed to be brought into a place completely opposite to that. I needed the love and the constant reminder that I’m wanted and important to someone. That my opinions and thoughts matter. Without influence. Without being told what’s okay to like and hate. The support and reassurance help to ground me and let me explore who I am without feeling overwhelmed by the world around me.”
I nod. “I guess that’s a big reminder of the differences in how we were treated, huh?”
“I don’t know. I think you experienced something similar on a different scale. You weren’t unwanted, but you were still afraid to have an opinion that differed from theirs. You were allowed to live, but only if you lived how Dad wanted you to. You became a different kind of shell, as you said. You were given some freedom and independence, which allowed you to build the skills to function somewhat autonomously. Dad showed up at my work every single day to bring me lunch as if I couldn’t handle that one simple task.”
“Another weird thing he did. I understand lunch was an excuse to make sure you were where he allowed you to be, but, like… he could have just ordered a coffee every day, you know? Why go through the extra trouble and spend the money to bring you lunch? He didn’t do that for the rest of us.”
Oren huffs. “Believe me. It’s on the list of ‘ I don’t understand this behavior .’”
I snort. “I bet.”
I turn onto the highway that’ll bring me to the Van Doren Estate and set the cruise. It’s still early enough in the day that there isn’t a lot of rush hour yet. I don’t usually leave early but I made an exception today so I could watch Adak’s game.
Not that it’s anything special, exactly. It’s just a regular game.
“Why are you asking?” Oren asks.
I think about Imry and sigh. “There’s a guy.”
“Ah. I should have seen that coming.”
“Yeah.”
“You think you’re not ready for a relationship because you’re not comfortable in your own skin yet,” Oren guesses.
“Exactly.”
“Haze, you’re probably not going to be for a very long time. You’d think adding color to the blank slates we left with would be easy. Everything is empty, after all. But it’s going to be a lot of trial and error, and to keep on the blank slate theme, we’re probably going to have to create our own colors. None of that is quick or easy.”
“You’re so wise.”
He snorts. “I think if you like this guy, you should give it a chance. Give yourself permission to see where this relationship goes. Either way, it’s going to teach you a lot about yourself that you’re going to spend the time learning, anyway.”
I nod as I let his words sink into me. “You’re right. Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Road noise fills the car as our conversation goes quiet for a few minutes.
“You know,” Oren says. “This is nice. I always imagined this kind of thing was what brothers were supposed to do—ask advice and maybe share some doubts and stuff.”
I smile. “It is nice. I tried to talk to you so many times over the years, but the guilt of feeling that standing aside and doing nothing made me an enabler of your situation ate at me, so I ended up just lying there, repeating apologies that, for all intents and purposes, were genuine but empty.”
“Haze?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve forgiven you. I think you need to forgive yourself, too.”
Tears sting my eyes, and a sudden onslaught of emotion makes it difficult to breathe. I think I may need to pull over until I can get myself under control. I honestly had no idea anything we said now would hit so hard.
Yep. I need a minute. Tapping on the brake, I glance behind me. There are no cars close to me, so I flick the blinker on and pull over to the shoulder and flip the hazards on. Now safe, I let my head fall back and close my eyes as tears track down my cheeks.
Oren doesn’t speak. But he’s there. That’s all I need right now. I need to know he’s there and that he forgives me. He’s right. I’ve never forgiven myself. I may not have bullied him or made his life miserable, but I did nothing to stop it. I didn’t even try. I was too afraid for my own wellbeing and mental health to even try.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“It’s not your fault, you know.”
“Once I formed the conclusion that Mom’s death was the reason they treated you that way and I’m the reason Mom died, it became my fault,” I admit.
“You’re not the reason Mom died,” Oren says. “Yes, it might have been complications from childbirth, but Haze, you were five days old. You were living completely out of her body for almost a week! If it’s going to be anyone’s fault, it’s the doctors looking after her. If they’d have caught the issue and taken care of it, then Mom would still be here.”
I take a breath through my mouth, trying to let his words comfort me. I’m not sure if I honestly believe it’s my fault Mom died. It would be a lie to say that I haven’t carried the guilt of the idea that it could be.
“You know, I wanted to ask Dad a lot over the years if her death was my fault. But I was afraid if I asked, and they decided it was…”
“Oh yeah. I’m glad you didn’t ask.”
“Then I think that if I asked, and it was, so Dad decided I should be punished for it after all, then you wouldn’t be alone. Some of their attention would turn from you to me and you’d have been a little better off.”
“No,” Oren says. “Our childhoods happened just the way they should have. I’m glad you were safe, Haze. It’s not your fault. I don’t remember Mom as more than a feeling, but I know for certain she’d also say it wasn’t your fault.”
“I didn’t know Mom at all, and I know she’d also hate Dad and our brothers for what they did to you.”
“To us ,” Oren corrects. “I think she’d hate Dad most of all. Not only for what he did to us but because Dane and Frankie were his victims too, just in a different way in which they also became abusers. That picture that hung on the wall—the only one that exists of the six of us? You know which one I mean?”
I nod. “Yes.” I used to stare at it, trying desperately to remember Mom from those first five days.
“Mom would be horrified that her family died with her that day. I know she didn’t bring four boys into the world so Dad could fuck them all up when things got hard for him.”
“No,” I agree.
“I think Dad’s death will heal us all. It was his prison we were all trapped in. We’re finally free of the bars he surrounded us all with.”
“You were always the flight risk,” I muse. “That’s why your room was the only one with actual bars.”
Oren laughs. “Ironic, since I had the least muscle mass. I’m literally the only one in that house who could have fit through my window.”
I laugh too. Laughing is easier than crying now. Especially since it truly is over.
“Thanks for this,” I say. “For all the talk and older brother advice.”
“It’s strange feeling like I’m actually an older brother. In a way, I always felt like the youngest.”
“The one whose voice was lost among their older siblings?” I guess as I wipe my face and sit up again. Time to get home.
“Hmm. I never thought of it exactly like that, but yeah. Something like that. I was thinking more along the lines of how I was always made to feel small. Something they made sure I never broke out of.”
“You feel bigger now?”
He snorts. “No. I’m always going to be smaller than all of you. That’s just how I’m built. Only now, I don’t hate those differences. I’m more thankful than ever that I don’t look like Dad and you guys. No offense.”
I laugh. “No, I get it. If I wasn’t so obsessed with keeping my abs, I’d let myself get fat just so I didn’t resemble them at all.”
Oren laughs, too. “Why are you obsessed with abs?”
“Body image issues. They made comments about your body more than I think either of us truly registered on a conscious level, but it was something that kept me driven to make sure I remained fit, so they didn’t have anything to comment on.”
“Ah.” He pauses. “Well, shit. I never even thought of that.”
“I think there’s a lot to unpack in our psyches. Therapists would have field days with us.”
“I talk to one sometimes,” Oren says. “Not a lot, though. That’s something she hates and tells me I need to work on, but when I’m in the mood to break down, then I’ll schedule an appointment.”
I chuckle. “Does it help?”
“I don’t know. As she’d point out, it’d help if I were consistent with it. I guess I’m just not ready to be consistent with it, though. I recognize I would benefit greatly from it, and I understand I should do it, but… I just want to live in peace for a while without having to talk about it. Our occasional conversations are enough for me and I think we both gain some healing, acceptance, and perspective from them. That’s enough for me right now.”
I nod as I turn into the Van Doren Estates driveway. That’s definitely enough. I think I healed a little bit today. Healing always begins with tears, right? I swear, that’s a criterion for healing.