Twenty-Two
Nate
Jumping to my feet, I raise my hands in triumph. “Take that, sucker.”
Barking out a laugh, Jace rolls his eyes and tosses his game controller beside him on the bed. “You always were a sore winner.”
Doing a little dance in front of him, I shake my hips and stick out my tongue. “And you were always a sore loser.”
Yanking me by the arm, he pulls me back onto the bed and tickles my side. We wrestle around, laughing and trying to one-up each other. My back hits the bed and he jumps on top of me, pinning down my chest when I try to sit up. “Now this is a game I’ve won every damn time.”
“You joined the wrestling team in high school so it’s an unfair advantage,” I say dryly.
Flopping over to the other side of me, he rolls his head back and forth, smiling wide. “Who’s the sore loser now?”
“I do learn from the best.”
Elbowing me in the side, he stares up at the glow-in-the dark stickers, tilting his head. “You think those still work?”
“I know they do.” I turn my face toward him. “Nothing beats the ones outside, though, and I have a pretty great view on my back porch.”
“You’re really set on me staying over tonight, aren’t you?” He rubs at his chest, sliding close enough for our noses to touch when he fully looks my way. My breath catches in my throat, heart wild and all over the place in my chest. Neither of us move for a long time, our breaths matching and eyes locking.
“Boys? You in here?” Our mom’s voice has us sitting up in bed and placing space between us.
Her eyebrows rise in alert when she peeks her head in, and a flashback to how she looked last time she walked in on us together takes hostage of my mind. I don’t know why I’m waiting for her nose to turn up in disgust again and for disappointment to flash in her eyes when Jace nudges me back to reality.
Instead, her gaze is ping-ponging between the remotes Jace set in our laps without me noticing.
“Hey, Mom. We’re just in here playing some video games,” Jace says, forcing a smile.
“Oh,” she says, not sounding fully convinced, as if somehow her eyes might be playing tricks on her. “It’s good to know that thing still works. You left so much of your stuff behind, but I didn’t want to get rid of it in case you missed it.”
“Yeah, I saw. Feels like I’ve entered a time capsule. Thanks for saving it all. I’ve really missed being in here.”
Her face softens, her hands moving to the front of her body. “Of course, hon. Feel free to take some of it back with you but don’t feel obligated. We don’t mind holding onto all y’alls old stuff. Helps the house feel less empty.”
“Yeah. I’ll take this with me for sure, and maybe some of my old comic books.”
“What about those old pairs of white converse you could never part with?” I said pointedly.
“You mean the ones displaying your beautiful artwork,” he says between laughs, and my mom watches us closely, fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt.
“You boys seem to be getting along like no time has passed between y’all. It’s good to see.” There’s a hint of uneasiness in her voice. She’s enjoying the brotherly exchange but worries it will eventually lead to more if Jace stays too long. Her thoughts are louder than she realizes, echoing around her in the form of uncomfortable silence.
“Yeah. I guess we are. It was only a matter of time before we found our way back, I guess. Especially being back in here surrounded by so many memories.” Jace rubs his palms over his knees, stretching out his legs.
“Yeah, well, dinner will be ready in an hour. Would you two like to come help prepare everything for the salad?”
“Sure.” Jace quickly gets to his feet, wasting no time taking the out she gives him.
“Yeah, whatever you need,” I say in agreement, setting my control next to his.
Jace follows her out first and I’m right behind them, turning off the light before shutting the door. Mom ensures we’re never alone for the remainder of the evening, giving us different tasks in the kitchen after dinner. Jace loads the dishwasher and I wipe down the table, before suggesting we watch a movie.
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Dad says, from the living-room couch, glancing back at us.
“Yeah, sure. It’s been so long since we’ve had a movie night.” Mom’s face lights up and she grabs both of her hands, eyes shifting between us. “It’s really good to have both my boys here. I definitely needed it this week.”
Jace’s eyebrows bunch together. “Everything okay?”
“It will be, I’m sure. Your aunt Nancy has just been in and out of the hospital, struggling with her MS. It’s been hard on her whole family, and with Dan leaving—”
“Leaving? Are they getting a divorce?”
Mom nods solemnly. “Yeah. I guess her being sick all the time is too much for him. She can’t travel as much as she used to and had to cut hours at work recently.”
“I always knew that guy was a prick,” Jace mutters.
“I think everyone did,” I quip.
“Are we going to keep talking about sad stuff or are we going to finish enjoying our movie night?” Dad lifts his head, pressing a hand to the back cushion of the couch. “It’s not like we get to see Jace often.”
“He’s right.” Mom squeezes her fingers, pulling away. “You two go help your dad settle on a movie and I’ll make the popcorn.”
Doing what she asks, we head to where Dad is, and sit on opposite sides of him. Mom takes a seat in the recliner and we finally decide on the latest Venom movie. Dad’s snoring fills the room halfway through and Mom sighs, getting up from her seat. “I guess I need to get that one to bed, before I have to hear him cry about the crick in his neck for a week straight from sleeping in that position for too long.”
“You coming back?” Nate asks, tossing popcorn into his mouth.
“I think I’ll turn in too, actually. Have an early day at the office tomorrow. You boys stay and finish the movie. If it gets too late, you can just crash in your old rooms.”
“Dinner tomorrow again?” Jace settles the almost-empty bowl in his lap and Mom smiles.
“Yeah. I’d like that. I’m sure Dad would too. Night, boys.”
“Night, Mom,” we say in unison.
Jace’s attention is back on the movie when Mom disappears to her room with a half-asleep Dad on her heels. Jace shakes the kernels in the bowl and I laugh, taking the bowl from him.
“More popcorn?”
“I can make it.” He places his hand on the bowl, and I place a hand on his.
“Nah. I’ve got it. I used to be the snack runner, remember?”
“Only when we were home. You made me walk out to the stands whenever we went to the drive-in.”
“That’s ’cause I know how much you enjoy outdoor walks,” I tease, and that drags a snort out of him.
“Whatever. Hurry up and see if we got any hot Cheetos in the pantry.”
“Someone’s sounding at home finally.” I nudge him with my shoulder and stand up from the couch.
“Yeah, I guess having you here really helps.”
Giddy inside, I smile all the way to the kitchen. We eat more popcorn and he tries to get me to eat one of his Cheetos. I don’t tell him why we have them. I lied to Mom about them being from a friend who often brought extra food from home, because I didn’t want her to know the truth of where they came from either. I’ve been saving them all this time. Whenever I visit our favorite sandwich place alone, I grab a bag with my meal, and I brought them here this morning when I knew he was coming over for dinner.
The movie reaches the credits and we stay on the couch talking about our last trip to the movies. Jace mentions how he has to watch scary movies alone now and shield his pillow’s pretend eyes from jump scares.
Shaking my head, I laugh. “Oh, be quiet. You know I haven’t even seen a horror flick since college.”
“Really?” His forehead shifts in surprise. “Why not?” He slides a Cheeto between his reddening lips.
“Glen doesn’t care for them and I don’t really have anyone to watch them with. All my friends from work and school always choose some chick flick or drama when we meet at the theater.”
“That sucks. I guess we’ll have to watch one before I leave then.”
“You’ll still have to shield me from the scary scenes, though. Sure you’re up for the task?”
He preens. “I think I can handle it.”
Both deciding it’s too late to drive anywhere, we turn in, walking into our separate rooms after telling each other goodnight in the dark hallway.
“See you in the morning,” I say. “I hope you missed my famous pancakes.”
“You mean the lopsided ones with slightly burned edges?” he says, pausing in the doorway.
“Hey, I’d like to think I’ve improved a little.”
“Well, if it’s only a little then I can’t wait.” He enters his room fully, leaving me alone, and I watch his closed door for too long before climbing into bed.
Shifting under the covers, I move around my pillows, unable to close my eyes for longer than a few seconds at a time. I stare up at the ceiling, reminiscing about the made-up stories Jace used to tell me when I couldn’t sleep, replaying one of my favorites in my head until I relax enough to close my eyes again. As I’m dozing off, a high-pitched scream has me jolting up in bed. When Jace starts shouting unintelligible words in his sleep, I lock my door and rush to his room through our shared bathroom.
He's tossing and turning, drenched in sweat when I turn on the small lamp on his dresser. His eyes don’t open and he shakes, saying, “No. I didn’t do it. I was the one who stopped it. It couldn’t have been me.”
“Jace.” I shake at his shoulder, watching his door. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re only dreaming.” His nightmares have stopped. “Jace,” I say again and he swings at me, saying something under his breath.
“I tried to stop it,” he cries. “I’m sorry I was too late. I tried.”
My heart rattles in my chest. When I don’t hear any noise out in the hallway, I move quickly to the door to twist the lock in place.
Jace cries some more, tugging at the pillows and slamming his legs against the bed. He slaps at his own face and scratches at his neck. I rush toward him, holding his wrists in place and kissing his temple. “Shh.” I start singing an old lullaby, one that used to settle him the most on his worst days, and release him when his body goes slack.
Shutting off the lamp behind me, I crawl into bed beside him and wrap my arms tightly around him. I hold him as he tries to fight some more, singing louder until his breathing evens out. Finally he stills against me, and I bury my face in his neck and kiss his sweaty skin. He’d see this as a hardship, but I see it as being here for him like he’s been for me. What’s been a real hardship is spending the last seven years in a bed without him.