Chapter 39 I’ve got two fists and a lot of feelings to work through.
I’ve got two fists and a lot of feelings to work through.
Sean
“SO, SHE brOKE up with you, eh? Ouch.”
“It wasn’t serious,” I lie, launching into another round of reps on the leg machine in my home gym as I glare at Seamus and the dyed-blond lock of hair that appeared on his head yesterday.
That lock of hair pisses me off more than I can express, but I won’t give Seamus the satisfaction of letting him know.
He picks up a dumbbell and starts to do some curls—with terrible form, I might add. “You fancied her, and you know it.”
I don’t know why my brother suddenly cares about my love life, but my audition’s tomorrow, and I need to stay focused.
Thunderstrike is my dream role. I’ve been practicing my lines every day.
That and watching the news to make sure no one’s implicated me in the miraculous recovery of Christopher Jackson’s hat.
Oh, and also nursing my broken heart.
“You gonna try to get her back?” he presses.
The suggestion throws me into a tailspin. I haven’t been able to get Josie off my mind, but all of this is according to her plan: one and done, let her fade into the background while I run the spotlight off in a different direction. Yet it doesn’t feel done. Not to me.
She’s still in there, a piece of shrapnel in my heart.
I wipe my sweaty face with a towel. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Oh, really?” Seamus says in a pensive tone. “Wouldn’t that make you a creep? A stalker?”
My stomach seizes up. It’s like he’s reading my mind. “No.”
“But she broke up with you. She doesn’t want to see you.”
“It’s different.”
“How is it different?”
I launch into another round of reps, curling and uncurling my legs. It hurts so good and keeps me from boiling over. “Because she actually likes me, Seamus. She’s just… got her own issues.”
“Everyone has their own issues. She’s not special. You’re not special.”
His goading is pushing me to the brink. If my brother wants to keep talking shite, I’ve got two fists and a lot of feelings to work through, but Josie’s comments about Seamus while on the high ropes course come back to me. He needs professional help. Maybe it’s time to have the hard conversation.
“I know you’re mad at me, brother, but at some point you have to admit that you staying here at the house drinking yourself into oblivion every day isn’t working out.”
Now it’s his turn to get angry. “Can you and everybody else back off me for a bloody second?”
“What’s with this?” I grab the lock of yellow in my own hair. “Is that supposed to be a message to me?”
He drops the dumbbell and picks up an exercise band. “Maybe.”
I rub a towel across the sweaty back of my neck. “Look. You’re right. I could’ve said no to the role. Then what? Some other guy would’ve gotten it, and nothing would’ve changed for you.”
“What would’ve changed is that my little brother wouldn’t be a traitor!”
“A traitor like you when you let me take the fall for the binoculars back in high school?”
He snorts. “You still holding a grudge over that?”
“No, I’m not.” I flick the towel so it wraps itself on the leg machine. “I never held a grudge against you, Seamus. I loved you, and I stood by you through everything. I still do. I want the best for you. I just don’t know how to help you get it.”
He plops down onto a machine and slumps his shoulders.
His face is doing funny things, scrunching up like his nose itches, but I think he’s just searching for words.
“The dinner theater was a bore. Nobody there respected me. But the little old ladies at the bingo hall—they’d seen some of my old movies.
They thought I was still a star. They treated me like one. ”
I nod in sympathy. “I can see the appeal.”
“There were side bets, too, on the greyhounds and such. And poker. I didn’t realize how much I was losing.
And then I thought I could win it back. And then, after I was in too deep, it was the only thing keeping the sadness at bay.
I knew Uncle would find out eventually. I just kept hoping that day was one day off. ”
“Right.” I don’t know what I’m doing here, but at least he’s talking.
“I’ve ruined my life, Sean. I’m ready to give up. So, you know, maybe you could let your loser brother sit on your five-million-dollar porch and drown his sorrows, if it’s not too much of a hardship.” He’s trying to sound tough, but his voice breaks.
“There are places you can go that’ll help you get back on your feet again.”
He scoffs.
“It’s not anyone’s first choice, but sometimes it’s the best one.”
He drops his face to his hands. “Mam and Da can hardly even look at me.”
I was holding up pretty well until now, but this is crushing me. Now I get what Josie meant when she said she was the Seamus in her family. No wonder she’ll do anything to avoid feeling like this: an outcast.
“They’ll come around,” I tell Seamus, choking down my emotion. “I’ll speak to them.”
“I don’t need you to save me.”
“You’re right.” I dig the phone out of my pocket, pull up Mam’s number, and hold the phone out to him. “But maybe I can keep you company while you save yourself.”
He stares at me, glassy-eyed and red-faced, like a boxer who took one too many hits. I wait. He’ll either take the phone or he won’t, but either way, I’m escalating this today.
Finally, he snatches the device from my hand and taps CALL.
Mam answers right away. “Seanny Bear?”
“Mam, it’s me, Seamus.” Seamus rubs his greasy forehead with the heel of his palm.
Mam is quiet at first. “Is everything all right?”
Seamus looks to me, and I give him the captain’s nod.
“No, it’s not,” he says.
“Where are you? Are you with Sean?”
A sob breaks out of him, and I find myself standing behind him, hands on his shoulders.
“We need a family meeting, Mam, tonight,” I say loud enough so she can hear me through the speaker.
“Let Da and Siobhan know. O’Donnell’s Pub.
” It’s Seamus’s favorite restaurant, and we can all meet up there after the gender reveal party. “Half-past eight.”
Mam’s voice is small but determined. “I’ll let them know.”
When we hang up, I give Seamus’s shoulders a final squeeze. “Nicely done, brother. We’ll help you get through this, I promise. You won’t have to do it alone.”
Seamus makes a beeline for the door. I don’t chase him. I let my brother have his privacy. I know this isn’t the end of his problems, but it’s the first step, and I feel good about taking it.
Unfortunately, I’m no longer in the mood for a workout. What I really want to do is talk to Josie, but my last text to her still lingers, unanswered. It’s a punch in the gut every time I look at it.
I hate this whole breakup thing. It’s so unfair. I’ve finally found someone whom I want to share everything with, and now I have to let her go.
Josie left so abruptly the morning after Hamilton on the Roof.
It felt like I took a breath, and she was gone.
I want to hear her voice, feel her body soft and pliant against mine.
I want to coax out that elusive giggle that’s like a skittish cat hiding under the bed.
Hear her stories—the real ones—and tell her mine.
When I showed her my real self, she didn’t judge me. She joined in.
But I can’t have what I want. She said it’s over, and I’m not going to chase her. Seamus is right—if I chase her, I’m no different than him.
I won’t do that. I won’t be that. She deserves better.
I check my watch. It’s time to get ready to leave for Jason and Emmy’s.
Time to set up for the gender reveal. My heart thrills at the chance to even spend these few hours with Josie.
But I won’t bug her. When we’re together, I’ll be cool.
So cool. A veritable cryogenic freezing pod, even if it hurts like a son of a bitch.