Chapter 26 Bizarre Love Triangle #2
“Fuck.” My pulse hammers in my neck like my carotid is about to blow apart. “So, what do I do? Just wait?”
“Come home with me. We’ll cook and play some board games with the girls or something.”
“I can't handle all of you right now. No offense, but your voice is grating on every nerve in my body.”
He laughs, slapping my knee. “Then I'll make us a couple of steaks out here and keep my commentary to a minimum.”
I tell him I’m not hungry, but West cooks the steaks anyway while I stare at Sports Center in the living room, not really following the discussion. I keep picturing Tristan driving down an endless highway and berating myself for how wrong I’ve been.
In my life, I’ve been right about a lot of things. I was right to move to Seattle. I was even right to move back to Austin. I was right to give away my father’s stock and to climb Tristan’s tree in the middle of the night.
But there are so many other things…so many things I got all wrong.
I didn’t have a terrycloth mom. I had a real one. Helen is made out of as much flesh and bone as I am or West is, or any of us. I do know what it means to be loved and to love someone back. West doesn’t feel sorry for me. He isn’t out there cooking steaks for me because I’m some charity case.
In all our time together, he’s needed me as much as I’ve needed him. No matter what happened to cut the knot that ties us together, it never worked. Or maybe it’s less of a knot than it is a heart string.
Or maybe it’s a fishbowl.
Maybe it’s just love.
The unconditional kind.
I get up from the couch and go outside where he stands by the new grill. Referring to it, he says, “This baby’s nice.”
“I wanna ask you a question,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows and indicates with a nod of his head that I can proceed.
“Did I turn out okay?”
He laughs his deep, easy laugh that reminds me of everything good in my life. “Eliza just did a report on diamonds. Turns out the right amount of pressure on an ugly lump of coal makes one of the strongest, most beautiful things in the world. What do you think about that?”
“I think that’s some vague ass shit your mom would say.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but I thought of it first.”
I put my arms around him, so grateful. So unbelievably fucking grateful to him. He hugs me back, solid and unflinching, not moving away until I do—until I’m breaking down again. I can feel it, my ends fraying and separating from my center.
He gives my shoulder a squeeze and makes me look at him. “Here's what I know. If a guy has to leave town to get away from you—it’s not too late. I’m not saying it won't be an uphill battle, but it's just a battle. All you have to do is show up to fight it.”
“You think?”
“Brother—chemo only works on people who are already dying. The rest of us just need someone to hold onto when the waves get rough. He’s had plenty of time. It’s time to stop letting him go.”
Connor is waiting in front of my house when I get home from school on Monday. He won’t make eye contact with me, and I take that as a bad sign.
We sit on the sofa, mirror images, each of us with one leg on the cushion and one foot on the floor. I put my arm across the back of the couch and wait for him to lead the way into whatever he came to say.
“He's not coming back,” he says after what feels like eight or nine hours.
“From where?” I ask, my throat constricted and tight.
“Houston. He's moving back in with his parents until he finds an apartment. He's taking the rest of the semester off. I tried everything, but I couldn't change his mind. I’m sorry.” Connor sniffs and covers his face with his hand, wiping away tears.
I take his hand and tug it toward me, hating how wrecked he is. He scoots closer so I can put my arm around him. “What did he say?” I ask. “Why won’t he come back?”
“How’s he supposed to live with me knowing that half the time I leave I'm coming to hang out with you, or I’m going to dinner at Helen’s? It’s exactly how I felt when I found out the two of you were together.”
That comparison is too much truth for me. All I can picture now is Tristan’s limp body in that tub. My stomach turns.
Connor must notice my face drain of all color because he’s quick to say, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.” I look past my brother into the backyard. I sigh, heavy and overburdened. I think of what West said by the grill. His rebuttal to my chemotherapy theory. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. “Hey, bud?”
He meets my eyes.
“I need you to let me try to get him back.”
His expression manages to be anxious and hopeful and annoyed at the same time. “You know I can't do that.”
“What do you have to lose? He’s already gone. Tell me where he is so I can go talk to him.”
Connor blinks, and if his hesitation had mass, it would rank up there with neutron stars.
I narrow my eyes at him, wishing I could read his thoughts.
“I don’t know,” he finally says. “At least with him there and you here, I have you both.” He focuses on his hands, folded together in his lap.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t possibly tell the future.”
Pushed beyond reason, I burst. “Connor, I’m so fucking in love with him. Have you ever been in love before? Because this is a first for me.”
He blinks rapidly and swallows hard.
“I have to try. He belongs…” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “He belongs with me. And with you. With all of us. This family.”
He tears up again, and he manages a very unconvincing nod. What he’s not saying could fill a book.
“We can figure it all out, but the three of us—for whatever reason, our heart strings are all tangled up with each other.”
He wipes his eyes. “Yeah, I know. And here I thought you were the one trying to untangle yourself from it, but it looks like it’s gonna have to be me again.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”
“But it is. It always has been.”
“Only because we’ve never tried any other way.”
His eyes search mine, and I see the desperation there. I don’t understand it, but I can see him fighting it. “What if I end up all alone?” he whispers.
I put a hand on the back of his neck, making sure he’s looking at me. “Buddy, I’ve got you now. I won’t let go. I need you to trust me.”
He keeps himself from crying again by releasing his own groan of frustration. “Ughhh… Why’d you have to fall for my best friend?”
“It was an accident,” I say.
“You going over to his house in the middle of the night and climbing a tree was an accident?”
“No. But it wasn’t a mistake either. There’s never been anyone else for me.”
Connor nods, and I can see the huge effort he’s making to suck it up. An effort I’ll be eternally grateful for. “I love you so much,” he says.
I smile, wanting him to smile with me. He can’t manage it.
“I do want you to be happy,” he says.
“Then you have to let me try.”
He nods again, putting on a brave face. “How can I help?”
“I just need his address.”