Chapter Eleven #2
SUNDAY AFTERNOONS WERE something special. Always had been.
Even as a kid the weekends were magical fun times.
Saturdays filled with cartoons, bike rides, and adventures with the guys.
Sundays started out in church, Mamie and my mother were devout Catholics, and while I had been baptized and confirmed in the church, I was meh about organized religion as a whole.
But they had insisted I go so I went. Unwillingly.
Once I was free though it was a rush to change into jeans, sneakers, and a Green Day tee to meet up with my friends.
When it was warm we would swim or fly kites, when it was colder we’d play video games or sled.
We were always busy, always together. Like four peas in a rambunctious pod Mamie would say as she shoved us out of the door.
She did not believe in boys sitting inside when they could be outdoors.
That was something I now was thankful for because even if there were times I wanted to linger under the covers until noon or play a shooter game on my X-Box Mamie would not allow it.
Fresh air was the cure for all of my woes, she assured me.
And while that was charming it was considerably outdated because when my anxiety was clawing at me as it did from time to time, it didn’t matter if I was on the sofa or wading through the creek.
As I sat on the bank with the Stonebridge bridge to my left, I drank in the beauty of this area of the states.
New Hampshire was really gorgeous. I was thankful that I may not have to sell the shop after all, but that brought new worries I was going to not focus on.
One of the things I used to do when I felt the fangs of anxiety scraping my jugular was to visualize a peaceful place.
I was sitting at one of the most peaceful places in the world.
Smiling at the sun streaming through the leaves of the mighty tree above me, I slid down the hill leaving my sneakers and socks on the bank, and rolled up my pant legs.
I had nothing but an empty cup from a quick stop at the local coffee shop and a yearning to recapture some of my youth.
I waded out into the water. It was so damn cold I gasped.
“Oh shit!” I’d forgotten how chilly these mountain-fed streams could be.
With the determination to catch at least one darn skipper I began my search for the little bugs that walked on water.
They were generally found in the quieter parts of the creek where the native brook trout lingered in small holes.
“Are you trying to get frostbitten toes?” Ryan called down to me. I straightened, waved at him to join me, and then grinned madly when he did. “Oh shit! It’s just as cold as I remembered!”
“Seriously, I think it might be colder.”
“Nah, it’s just that we’re all old men now.”
“As if. I’m still in my prime.”
“Prime middle age,” he clapped back with a snort of amusement.
“Fuck all the way off,” I replied.
He then walked over to me and we began searching for skippers as trout darted this way and that.
Back in the day we would have tried to catch them by hand.
We never could but we would have tried. Now we stood stock-still to admire the flash of a reddish-orange belly.
After about fifteen minutes our feet were too cold to take it any longer so we climbed the rocky bank, sat down under the tree, and let our feet air dry.
“We caught no skippers,” I lamented while staring into my empty cup. Not that I had any great plans for what I would have done with the insects had we captured some. “Remember that time we caught four of them then took them to your house and dumped them into your sister’s iced tea?”
“I remember her chasing us down and making us eat dirt,” he said as he leaned back on straight arms, the wind blowing warm gusts over our cold toes.
“Yeah, your sister takes no shit,” I admitted. I’d never had so much grass shoved into my mouth. He made a sound of admiration. I folded my legs into a lotus then turned to look at him. “I’m sorry I’ve not done your books in the past few weeks. Things have gotten really crazy.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, no it’s not. Phillip has turned my world inside-out.” His gaze darted from the stream to me. He said nothing. Which was not a new thing. Ryan could be incredibly quiet at times. “I hope we’re okay. I know you were really upset before.”
“I was worried that you were going to sell and leave Caldwell Crossing.” He blew out a big breath that puffed his cheeks. “I wasn’t jealous or anything but if you had thought I was I could see why.”
“Nope, never crossed my mind. We’re brothers.” I thumped him on the shoulder with the side of my fist. “So we’re good. Right?”
“Yeah, we’re tight. I’m sorry for being such an asshole. You know I don’t really make friends easily. Just the thought of you leaving for parts unknown kind of freaked me out. That was shitty of me.”
“Nah, it was normal. I’d lose it if you left.
” He gave me a wobbly smile before grabbing me for a fast hug.
I cinched him in tight. The ring-ring of a bike bell broke into the bro hug.
We released each other to see Conor and Sam arriving on three speeds with old wicker baskets.
Talk about a blast from the past. “Did you two pedal all the way from the maple farm?”
“Yep,” Conor said then gave his bell another ring.
“Holy shit, my hamstrings,” Sam moaned as he ditched the bike then fell on his side next to Ryan. “My balls are aching. How did we ride those damn things all over the place?”
“We were younger and in better shape,” I replied.
“Speak for yourselves,” Conor chimed in, placing his bike on its stand then dropping down to sit with us under the tree after taking four cold bottles of lemon-lime soda from the basket on the handlebars of his bike.
“I’m in great shape. Look at these guns.
” He flexed his biceps. They were impressive.
He then passed out the drinks. Sam asked him about the auction but Conor just grumbled and said he didn’t wish to talk about it.
Things sounded really tense with Conor and Dallas.
“Your Mr. March spread proved that,” Ryan teased.
Conor chuckled and blushed. Hot fireman calendars raised lots of money for the fire station. Everyone in town had one of last year’s calendars stashed away. Conor made a hella hot leprechaun.
“March seems like so far away,” I mused as I twisted the cap off my soda and took a pull. The other guys nodded. “So much has changed. Sam found his forever man and I’m…” I paused to parse. “I’m somewhere doing something big with someone who I literally hated a month ago.”
“Yeah, we could use a bit more clarity about what the hell is going on with Phillip, you, and Harmony Chocolates,” Sam piped in as he pushed up to sitting, cold soda still unopened in his hand.
“Man, I don’t even know where to start,” I sighed, took a sip, and began at the very beginning.
Way back in time. I’d never told anyone about the situation with Mamie and Bernhard Brauning.
She’d not wished anyone outside the family to know.
I think she was ashamed, which was crazy as she had nothing to be ashamed of.
But I got it. Somethings you wanted to keep to yourself and your closest loved ones.
I didn’t go into graphic details. I only said that they had dated and the break-up had not been amicable.
Then I filled in the rest of the history as I knew it, pausing to take a drink or push some curls from my face, or answer a question the guys may have had.
We arrived at today slowly, and now they were all gazing at me with less animosity when I mentioned Phillip’s name.
“Do you think he’ll really go against his grandfather?” Conor enquired.
I nodded. “Oh yeah. He is beyond pissed. They have a strained relationship anyway. He loves him because he’s his grandpa but he also dislikes his biases. And after hearing the truth from Mamie, well, I suspect the shit will hit the fan.”
“Good. The bastard needs to be raked over the coals for being such a douche to Mamie,” Sam snarled.
Everyone agreed, me included.
“I guess that’s the story as it stands. He’s going to get things settled over in Germany then come back.
We’re going to date. We just kind of skipped the whole courting thing and dove into the fucking-like-wild-chinchillas part.
” I chuckled a bit as the others rolled their eyes.
“I don’t want you guys to be shits to him when he comes back.
” They all looked shocked as if they would never even contemplate such a thing.
I knew better though. And I loved them for it.
“I like him. A lot. And I know you’re all going to say he’s too old, or he’s too rich, or it’s been too fast. Maybe it has been or maybe not.
Hell, maybe we’ll crash and burn in a month, but I want our success or failures both personally and or professionally to be because we just didn’t suit, not because of nosy but awesome friends.
There’s lots of stuff to sort out and I…
well, maybe I should think about discussing my anxiety with a professional.
” I waited to see what they said. They all just nodded while giving me a pat on the shoulder.
“So yeah, that’s Haider at the moment. A mess, but hey, what else is new? ”
“We’ll watch out for you, Cupid, no matter what way things go with Phillip,” Sam said. I knew they would. They were the best friends a man could ask for.
“I love that you guys want to protect me, I do, but this time I want to soar or crash on my own.”
“Can we bring you tissues and cheap wine if you hit the ground, Icarus?” Ryan asked with a wink. How cool that he said if and not when. One simple word can make such a difference when someone was feeling vulnerable.
I nodded. They could so do that. I just prayed they wouldn’t have to.