Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
REX
Nigel’s wedding was going to be a small affair, he said. And even tried to argue against a bachelor party, saying that it wouldn’t feel right with his best friend still icing him out, but I insisted.
He’d vetoed the idea of going to a strip club, which, thank God for that. I picked him up from his place, and he tried to look enthusiastic as he climbed into the passenger seat. A smile was painted on his face, fake as hell, and it didn’t reach his eyes, which were full of tragedy.
“Well,” he said. “Let’s get this show on the road.” Nigel fastened his seatbelt and then looked at me.
“You look miserable,” I said.
“I’m going to a bachelor party under duress. They’re a stupid tradition, honestly.”
“I agree.” I started the car and pulled away from the curb.
“Then why did you insist?”
“Because two people is hardly a party.” I glanced over at him and shot him a quick smile. I knew that his friendship with Simon was still on the rocks for some reason and was taking its toll.
“What?”
“It’s just you and me tonight, baby brother. We’re going to go to The Anchor so you can kick my ass at pool, we’ll throw some darts, and we’re going to have a couple drinks. We’re not going to get loaded. At least, I’m not. But you do you.”
“Sometimes I don’t hate you.” Nigel’s voice was full of warmth and his features relaxed as relief washed through him.
“Sometimes I tolerate you too.”
We were quiet all the way to the bar. Nigel seemed to need a few minutes to gather his thoughts, and I let him have them.
There was something wrong, and I would bet it had to do with Simon’s absence from his life.
I hoped that tonight we could talk about that a little, and maybe I could help him get to the bottom of it.
The Anchor wasn’t packed, but it wasn’t empty either.
Which was good because the atmosphere of an empty bar wasn’t going to help Nigel feel like he could open up to me.
An empty bar was worse than a full one because there were only so many things to keep your attention when there weren’t any other people around.
You couldn’t disappear in a crowd when there was no crowd to begin with.
We found an empty table tucked in the corner away from the bathrooms. I swung by the bar and grabbed a couple of beers for us. Nigel still didn’t look any happier when I gave him his drink. Sliding into the chair across from him, I took a sip of my beer.
“What’s going on, Nigh?” I asked, shortening his name like I did when we were kids.
“It’s just—nothing.” Nigel took a sip of his beer, then another one. And a third larger swallow. By the time he was done, his beer was half gone.
“Thirsty?” My gaze flicked to his drink then back up to his face. In not so many words, I was calling him on his shit. His lie was obvious. There was something bothering him.
“It’s a party, right? I’m doing party things. People drink at parties.”
“Nigel, this party can quickly turn into an intervention if you don’t stop acting like a buttface.”
“I’m sorry.” Nigel sat back and glared at me incredulously. “Did you just call me a buttface?”
“If the buttface fits.”
“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.” He tried to sound all serious, but he was smiling now, so that was something. “Are you twelve?”
“Talk to me, buttface,” I said, ignoring his question.
Nigel looked down at his drink. He picked at the label on the bottle like he might find the answers he was looking for on the back of it.
“I love my fiancé, but I miss Simon so much I can’t breathe sometimes. And I can’t figure out what that means because Simon’s the one who left. He’s the one who put an axe in my chest. I shouldn’t miss him the way I do.”
In my opinion, it was clear Nigel and Simon had feelings for each other, and they were being stupid about it.
Nigel, by pretending that he could keep Simon as a friend by keeping him as only a friend.
And Simon, by not knocking my brother over the head and dragging him to some secret, remote cave somewhere.
It had to be hell for Simon to watch Nigel jump into relationship after relationship like he was trying to find the person who could perfectly mend all the cracks inside of him.
“It’s normal to miss someone. Especially when they used to have such a big role in your life, and now that’s different. That’s a lot of change to get used to.”
He heaved a sigh and I decided that a change of topic might be the best course of action. He didn’t seem to want to talk about Simon, or his fiancé, or the upcoming wedding.
“I’ll have you know that after years and years of sporadic practice, I’m still shit at pool. So if you wanted to play me, you’d have to accept the fact that I am going to lose. I probably won't even be good competition.”
For the first time that night, Nigel cracked a smile. “You’re on, old man. I don’t suppose you want to put any money on this game?”
“You’d be right about that. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
The first game was a massacre. Nigel let me break, and I managed to sink a lucky shot, but I missed my next one. He sank a couple of his striped balls before missing a shot, and that next turn was my last. Nigel systematically cleared the table.
“Eight ball, corner pocket.” He took the shot but it looked like he didn’t hit the cue ball hard enough so when it tapped the eight ball, it almost didn’t hit it hard enough to make it go in.
It slowly rolled to the pocket and teetered on the edge before gravity won out and the eight ball disappeared into the pocket. Game over.
“How about darts? I’m not quite as horrible at darts, and you’re not quite as good at darts as you are at pool. I might stand half a chance.”
“Just for that, I’m going to stop holding back.”
Nigel’s words made me stop in my tracks. “Excuse me? You’ve been holding back?”
Nigel’s smile was blindingly bright. “I didn’t want you to know just how bad you suck. I was doing you a favor.”
I saw the truth of it written on his face. He had been going easy on me all these years. I’d always known that I could never beat him at pool. Even if both his arms were tied behind his back, he’d still manage to beat me in an embarrassing way.
“Sometimes I hate you.” I didn’t mean it and he certainly didn’t take it that way because, if anything, his smile got bigger.
“I know,” he replied cheerily.
Darts was just as much of a debacle as pool had been.
But I didn’t mind losing to Nigel. I wasn’t here to win anything, I just wanted my brother to know that I was behind him every step of the way.
Even if I did think that he and Trevor were a terrible match.
But I’d long ago made the commitment to keeping my opinions about his life to myself unless he specifically asked.
I wasn’t perfect at following my own rules, but I did my best.
Nigel was three drinks deep, and I’d finished my beer, then switched to Coke. He had a dart in his hand and was aiming at the board, closing one eye, which I’d tried but somehow it made my aim worse instead of better.
Suddenly he lowered his arm and turned to me, his expression a picture of misery. “Can we get food now? I’m fucking starving.”
“We can absolutely stop now,” I said, taking his darts from him. “You go sit down and I’ll grab us drinks and menus while I return these.”
When I came back to our table, a new drink for him and a couple of menus in hand, Nigel was looking like death. His eyes were downcast and his shoulders were rounded. He was soft and sad, and I wanted to hug the stuffing out of him.
“Okay, spill it.” I slid his drink across the table to him.
Nigel let out a sigh. “I miss Simon. That’s it. That’s all. He barely speaks to me now, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Well, let’s break down your options.”
Nigel lifted his gaze and looked at me. He offered me a smile. “You always were a methodical little shit.”
“You can’t call me little. I’m older and bigger than you.”
“So pedantic too.”
“Someone’s dragging out the big words,” I teased back, the mood shifting away from doom and gloom. It wasn’t going to be sunshine and lollipops, but it didn’t have to be so dire.
“Someone’s still a pain in my ass.”
“Someone is still wondering if you’re going to drop the shit and tell them what’s going on with you.”
Sitting across from me, Nigel was the perfect example of stoic strength. Nothing was going to budge him a moment before he was ready.
“I told you,” he tried to evade, but I’d been anticipating that.
“Yes, you told me Simon is mad that you’re marrying Trevor and that he’s been icing you out and avoiding you. Now tell me what you plan on doing about it.”
Nigel ran a hand through his hair. “That’s the thing.
I don’t know, Rex. I don’t know. I want to get married, and I want to start the next phase of my life, but I always thought Simon would be there through it.
And now he’s acting like our friendship meant nothing.
” His rant seemed to take a lot out of him and he slumped in his seat, picking at the label some more.
“Well, the way I see it, you have a few options.”
He perked up. “I love your brain. Yes, please tell me what to do.”
“Oh, absolutely not. Any decision made has to be your own, but I’ll run you through some possible choices.”
“It would be so much easier if you would choose for me.” Nigel pouted.
“We don’t have that kind of relationship.”
“Okay, fine.” He sighed. “What are my options?” He sounded bored and skeptical.
“First of all, the only person in all of this you can control is yourself. You can’t choose how others are going to react or what their opinions will be. All you can do is make your choice and ride out any consequences, good or bad, that come from that.”
“You sound like Dad. ‘Make good choices, son.’” Nigel deepened his voice and lifted his shoulders, making his frame wider to better mimic our dad and what he’d say to us when we were growing up.
“Option number one is that you do nothing. You do nothing, you say nothing, you are Zen. You are peace. You do your wedding, you tie the knot. Simon will be there or he won’t, and you can’t control that.”
Nigel made a face. “I’ve been doing that already. Can’t say that it fixed anything.”
“That’s why option two exists. If Simon won’t come to you, you go to Simon.”
“Yeah, and then what?”
“It’s up to you, but I’d tell him how I felt about him. About how this is affecting you. You tell him that you miss his friendship, and you ask if there’s any way forward.”
He screwed up his face, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t think I like that one.”
“Whether you want them to or not, things between the two of you are going to change. But not acknowledging something doesn’t make it go away.”
Just like not acknowledging the ever-deepening feelings I had for Perry didn’t make them magically go away.
We still hadn’t talked about what was going to happen after the wedding.
All I knew was that this was supposed to end with Nigel’s wedding, but I didn’t think I ever wanted to let Perry go.
I didn’t want to go back to being strangers, and I didn’t want to just be friends who fucked.
But at this moment, I couldn’t think about my problems. Not with Nigel sitting across from me looking like he was going to step in front of a firing squad.
I took a sip of my Coke and kind of wished I’d had them add some rum to it after all.
“Look, not saying anything is why you’re here with that look on your face.
” I leaned forward, folding my arms on the table in front of me.
“Nigel, level with me. Do you want to marry Trevor or do you just want to be married? Is this some kind of not-quite midlife crisis where you’re ready to move on to the next stage in your life so badly that you’re willing to choose someone who might not be the right person? ”
Before Nigel could answer, I leaned back and pinned him with a look. “Don’t answer. Just think about it. And while you think about that, also think about getting onion rings as a side, I’ll get fries, and we can share.”
Nigel gave me a weak but grateful smile for allowing him the option to not talk about it anymore. “I always did think better on a full stomach.”
He turned his attention to the menu, and I took a moment to just look at him and hope that he’d make the right decision.