39. CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 39
ETHAN
A s soon as we walk in the door at the Millers’ house, I’m relieved to see Larry in a pair of blue plaid pajama pants, similar to my own red ones, and a ragged Aerosmith T-shirt. “Merry Christmas, Ethan!” He takes me in his arms for a jarring hug, and I find myself gripping him back just as tight.
“Merry Christmas, Larry. Thanks for the invite.”
“Of course.” He releases me and holds me at arm’s length, giving my shoulders a squeeze before he turns and pulls Ari in.
Meg comes barreling into the living room to join us in a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. “Hey!” Ari points at her. “Where are your pajama pants?”
Meg raises her hands up. “I spilled on them while I was cooking. They’re in the wash.”
Ari rolls her eyes. “Fine. I guess leggings will do.”
Ari told me the Millers always celebrate the holiday in their pajamas, and I wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t playing a trick on me. She bought a pair of Santa Claus PJs for the occasion, but I told her I draw the line at characters on my sleep pants.
Ari finished up her transcription work and has been hired as a substitute teacher, beginning after Christmas break. She all but lives with me and Fonz now. There was never a formal moving-in gesture; she just started spending almost every night at the house and slowly her things migrated over. I like it. Her perfume and lotion sit on my dresser—our dresser. Her clothes hang in our closet, shoes are lined up by our door, and she’s got all kinds of girly shit in the bathroom, which Fonz can’t stand but it makes me smile.
After Sophie arrives in Christmas PJs, we all enjoy a roast beef dinner prepared by Meg that’s absolutely to die for. Even Ari, who has gotten used to seeing me pack it in, gives me wide eyes when I go for a third helping.
After chitchatting around the table for a while, Larry stands and starts gathering plates. I stand up to help, and Ari starts to follow. “No.” I place a hand on her shoulder. “You ladies sit. We’ll clean up.”
Ari frowns at me. “No. Ethan, we’ll help.”
“Nope,” Larry interrupts. “We’ve got this. I promise we won’t screw it up.” He gives Meg a look. “Dishes go in the washing machine, right? Spin cycle?”
She raises her wine glass to her lips. “Honestly, I don’t care where you put them, as long as I don’t have to look at them.”
Grabbing a stack of plates and making my way into the kitchen, I come to an abrupt stop. “Shit.”
“Yeah,” Larry replies, with a pile of plates teetering in his hands. “Meg is a great cook, but she’s a friggin’ mess.”
There are trays and utensils, cutting boards, pots and pans, lids and baking sheets covering every surface—the countertops, island, stovetop, the little table in the corner. “Let’s just get one load in the dishwasher and then we’ll break for presents,” Larry suggests.
I nod. “You got it, boss.”
He pulls the door of the dishwasher down and starts running water in the sink as he begins loading the top rack. I start scraping remnants of dinner off a few plates, placing the empty dishes on the countertop next to Larry.
We work in silence until he breaks it. “Meg and I have never seen her like this.”
I stop what I’m doing, the sound of a knife scraping across a plate stopping at the same time Larry turns off the faucet. He looks at me. “Ari. We’ve never seen her so …” he stares at nothing as he thinks, “Energetic? Hopeful?”
“Happy?” I offer, and he looks at me. “I really hope she’s happy.”
“That’s a given,” Larry says quickly. “Can’t you see it?”
“I do. At least, I think so. That’s what my goal is every day.” I turn and rest my ass against the counter, placing my hands against the granite on either side of me. Larry leans his hip against the sink and folds his arms over his chest as he faces me.
“She’s so …” It’s my turn to look into space as I try to gather my thoughts.
“Challenging? Stubborn? Complex?”
“Yes, yes, and hell yes.” We both chuckle. “I can’t remember a time that I didn’t love her. And yet, sometimes I feel like I’m not loving her the right way. Like she needs me to be different somehow.” Larry tilts his head in question, and I blow out a breath. “I know the accident was life changing. Not just what it did to her body, but her whole mentality. I can’t imagine. But I just feel like she always chooses to take the path of most resistance just to prove she can do it.”
Larry smiles and nods knowingly.
“For example, she’s always jumping up to wait on me—to get me a blanket or a drink, or asking if she can make me a sandwich or what I want for dinner. I mean, I love that she wants to dote on me, but I tell her all the time that’s not the kind of relationship we have. We are equals. And she gets defensive when I stop her. I want to take care of her just as much as she takes care of me. Hell, I wish she would only let me take care of her.”
I let out a breath, exasperated, then run a hand down my face. “Shit, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”
“You’re not going off,” Larry responds immediately, keeping his pose. “You’re concerned. And she’s lucky to have someone so worried about her.” I frown, looking at the ground. “But I think you may be wrong, Ethan.” I shoot my head up to look at him. Larry thins his lips before he speaks. “I don’t think she’s taking the path of most resistance. I think she’s taking the only path she knows.”
I pull my brows together in question.
“Think about it, Ethan. How did Ari grow up? How did she learn to behave?” He’s silent for a moment but doesn’t wait for me to answer. “She had to wait on Axel hand and foot. He wanted his dinner hot and ready when he got home, or she got hit. He expected her to keep the house clean, or he belted her. She was to behave a certain way, even when she didn’t know which way that was, so she walked around on eggshells, jumping at the opportunity to do anything to appease him and avoid his wrath.”
My stomach hits the floor as I place a hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I didn’t put that together.
“Let me ask you something else,” Larry says softly as he unfolds his arms and turns and faces the sink, looking out the little window in front of him, into the dark, snowy night. “Does she seem to crave your anger?”
I slowly drag my gaze up and find him giving me the side-eye. I don’t have to nod or speak; he knows.
“She did it here, too. Still does.” Turning his head, he looks back out the window. “One time Ari left a towel hanging over the porch railing to dry. But it stormed that night, so the wind blew it into the mud and in the morning Meg found it balled up in a puddle. Ari saw her pick it up and ran out apologizing, and Meg laughed it off. Said it was no big deal. She’d throw it in the wash, you know?”
Larry continues to stare off as he recalls the memory. “After a while, Ari got this attitude. She told Meg she was being passive aggressive. She said something like, ‘If you’re going to be mad at me, at least show it.’ It was so unlike her. And the thing was, Meg wasn’t mad! It was a towel. Who gives a shit?”
He finishes his story, and I wait a moment before starting my own.
“She dropped a carton of eggs one morning. Raw egg splattered everywhere. All over the floor and the lower cabinets. It was a mess. I laughed—not at her, but just at the situation. It was funny.” I shrug. “She flapped her hands around and started apologizing and grabbed a roll of paper towels to start cleaning up, but there were only a few sheets left. So, I ran down to the basement to get another roll. When I came back up she grabbed it out of my hand and yelled at me that she would have gone down to get it, and when I bent down to help her, she completely snapped. Told me to leave her alone.”
“Ouch.” Larry turns and takes a similar position as me.
“I had no idea where that came from, but it was like she wanted me to yell and scream at her. To tell her to clean it up. Why would she want to live like that—again?”
Larry shrugs. “It’s similar behavior to that of an addict.”
“Yeah, well, why does Ari act like that, then? She doesn’t even drink. She’s not an addict.”
“Sure, she is.”
I still. “What does that mean?”
“The constant need to please. Seeking a response in the form of violence. We learn what we live, Ethan. That’s her normal. That’s her comfort. As crazy as it seems to you and me, that’s what makes her feel safe.”
“Safe my ass.” Suddenly annoyed, I push away from the counter. “No offense, Larry, but no way did she feel safe in that house growing up. I saw it firsthand. I cleaned the blood off her myself. She didn’t take comfort in him .”
“I’m sure she didn’t at the time. But she did what she had to do to survive—body and mind. She ran when he would beat her, to protect her body from the beating. But she also had to find a way to seek shelter in her mind, and the way she did so was by learning to embrace the pain. The volatility.”
When I don’t respond, Larry presses, “Let me ask you, Ethan: has Ari ever shared her happy moments with Axel, with you? The time he taught her to ride a bike, or to fight?”
I swallow. “He taught her to drive.”
“And how did she speak of Axel when she shared that memory with you?”
“Like he was her goddamn hero.” Holy shit.
Larry gives me a sad smile. “That’s because he was. She was abandoned by the woman who created her, and he took her in. She may feel forever grateful for that. Indebted, even. He was all she had for a long time.”
“She had me.” I shove my hands in the pockets of my pajamas. “But I wasn’t enough. And then I left her.”
Larry crosses one foot over the other in front of him. “On the contrary, Ethan. You were the only person who loved her enough to try and force change.”
“I’m not sure it worked, or is working.”
“Give it time.”
“How much?” I look at the ceiling. “It’s been over a decade.”
“Maybe a decade more.”
I sniff. “She stepped in front of that truck, you know.” I look up at Larry and see him give a slight nod. “She almost ended it. She tried to. I should never have let her feel that bad. And what if she feels that way again?” My words are coming out in a panic as I bring my hands up and clasp them behind my head. “How do I …. What can I do for her? I—”
Larry steps up to me and takes my face in his hands. The act is intimate.
“You give her all the love you know how to. The kind of love that comes from a man like Ethan, not a man like Axel. Not a little shit like Sean. You show her how wonderful it is to be loved by you, and you hope that one day she will learn to crave that love instead of the other kind. And you have to decide if that’s what’s best for you, too. Because you’re a survivor, too.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “She’s what’s best for me. We’re what’s best for each other. I would do anything for her, Larry. Anything.”
I open my eyes to see him smiling at me. “I know, son. I know.” He gives my cheek a pat and releases me, stepping back to the sink and turning on the faucet. “Just keep loving the shit out of her. It’s working. Even if you can’t see it, everyone else can.”
As Larry continues to load the dishwasher, I get my breathing and my emotions under control. “Can I ask you something now?”
“Anything.”
I grab some dirty utensils off the island and place them on the counter next to Larry. “How come you and Meg never had kids of your own?”
“Meg had uterine cancer as a young adult,” he says without pause. “She had a hysterectomy before we met.”
“Oh, damn.” I empty a glass into the sink and hand it to Larry. “I’m sorry.”
“We’re not.” He takes the glass from me. “We were going to adopt, but when we learned how many older kids need fostering, it just felt like a calling.”
“Isn’t it hard—taking care of kids and then handing them over to someone else, so to speak?”
He thinks it over. “With most of the kids we took in, they found permanent placements, or their family lives improved and they could go back. Or they became adults and went out on their own and lived happy lives.” He pauses as I pass him a cutting board. “But there were two cases that were hard to let go of.”
I stare at him, waiting for more. He nods in the direction of the living room. “So, we never let them go.”
I know he’s talking about Ari and Sophie. Fuck genetics, and fuck the fact that they’re adults, those are his little girls.
It gets me thinking …
“Hey, uh, Larry?”
“Mmhmm?” He places one last dish carefully on the bottom rack of the dishwasher and slides the drawer in.
I clear my throat. “I had no intention of doing this today, but, well, since we just had a brofest I’m kind of feeling vulnerable and shit …”
Larry adds soap to the dishwasher and closes the door, turning to look at me. I clear my throat again and look him in the eye. “I don’t know when—it could be next year, it could be tomorrow, it could be ten years from now considering our track record—but at some point, I’m going to ask Ari to be mine forever. And I’d really like your blessing.”
Larry’s face softens. He waits a beat before answering me. “You promise to keep loving the shit out of her and never ease up?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You promise to be all in, for the long haul?”
“Promise.”
Larry grins. “Promise to do all that while not losing yourself in the process?”
I give a curt, final nod. “Yes.”
He steps forward and slaps me on the arms. “Then yes, son, you have my blessing. Of course you do!”
I let out a breath and extend a hand that Larry takes.
“Alright, enough of this heavy shit.” He lets out a heavy breath. “Let’s go out there and open presents so we can get to dessert, shall we? If you like Meg’s roast beef, just wait until you try the trifle she makes.”
“Oh, man.” I rub my stomach as Larry leads me out of the kitchen with a hand on my shoulder. “I gotta tell you, Larry, you were smart, getting yourself a woman who can cook.”
We get to the edge of the kitchen and look at the three ladies fussing around the tree. Ari spins around, throwing her hands up in cheers. “Time for presents!” A smile stretches across her face.
I saunter up to her with a smile of my own, and with each step, I ache to know the depths of all that ails my dear love.
***
The living room is a mess of wrapping paper and tissue paper, gift bags and packaging as we all give thanks and enjoy the gifts we’ve swapped.
“Oh, crap. Is that the time?” Sophie asks. “I have to get changed.” She gets onto her hands and knees and pushes herself up off the floor. “Gino is picking me up in a few minutes and I don’t want to be in pajamas when he gets here.”
She runs off down the hallway into the Millers’ spare room, and only minutes later we hear her hurried footsteps booming back toward us. “He should be here any second, he just texted.”
I turn and see Sophie has changed into a red velvet dress that stops at about the knee and wraps around her body, bunching at the hip and accentuating her chest. “Damn, Soph!” I say as Ari and I stand up. “You trying to give Gino a heart attack?”
She blushes. “This old thing?”
“Really, Sophie, you look amazing!” Ari beams from beside me as she heads toward the kitchen and her friend approaches the coat closet. “Have fun tonight! Tell Gino I said ‘Hi.’”
“OMG, save me some of the trifle!” Sophie yells after her.
“If there’s any left,” Larry quips as he passes Ari and enters the living room. He walks right up to Sophie and takes the coat out of her hands, holding it open for her to sink her arms into.
There’s a knock at the door and Sophie turns to go down the stairs, but Larry stops her. “You know what, Sophie, why don’t you go grab a bottle of wine from the kitchen to bring with you, wherever you go?” He starts descending the stairs toward the front door.
“Uh, OK. But I can let him in first.”
“No, no. It’ll just take a minute,” Larry interrupts her as he approaches the door. “Go on. Ask Meg which you should bring. I’ll let him in.”
“Okayyyy.” Sophie makes her way into the kitchen.
Larry looks at me and smirks. I know exactly what he’s up to. “You want in on this?”
“Hell yeah.” I cross my arms over my chest as I approach the door, as well. I stand, legs wide, in my best intimidation stance.
Larry opens the door. “Gino! Merry Christmas!” he greets the gentleman caller warmly.
“Good to see you again.” Gino extends his hand, and they shake as Larry pulls him inside. While Larry shuts the door behind him, Gino turns and sees me. “Merry Christmas, Ethan.”
Since I don’t unfold my arms, he just slaps me on the back, and the three of us stand on the landing where it’s close quarters. Gino looks between the two of us, then glances up the stairs. “Is, uh, is Soph inside, or …”
“What are your intentions with Sophie?” I blurt out.
Larry smacks his forehead, and I hear Sophie’s screech in the kitchen, followed by, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Uhhhh … What?” Gino stammers, still looking between the two of us.
Larry turns to me. “You’ve got to ease into it! You can’t just blurt it out.”
I shrug, “Sorry, man. First time.” Then I crack my neck and give Gino the stare down.
“Kill me now!” I hear Sophie again, followed by Ari’s giggle.