24. Levi #2
Ethan snorts. Then his voice is soft when he says, “I certainly didn’t expect to be doing this.”
“This?”
“Being here. With you.”
I make a noncommittal sound because I’m not entirely sure what that means to Ethan.
It didn’t sound like he meant anything bad, but things have been difficult, so I don’t really know and I don’t quite trust my own interpretations.
Patrick validated my feelings, but they weren’t all correct.
I misunderstood him after all. And I assumed rejection from Ethan when there wasn’t any.
I need to ask, I realize.
“Is it a good thing then? Being here with me?”
Ethan nuzzles behind my ear. “Yes.”
“You didn’t tell me about this place,” I point out.
“I’ve never brought anyone here.”
My mind skips back to the cellar, but I cut off the thought. I’m not ready to think about that.
The patio doors open. I lift my head from Ethan’s shoulder to see Patrick leaning out.
“Do you guys need anything?”
Ethan says, “Uh, maybe. Would you mind cutting Levi’s hair?”
If Patrick is surprised, it doesn’t show. “Sure. Levi? Is that what you want?”
“Oh. Um. Yes? You’re sure you don’t mind?”
Patrick comes out, closing the door. “I’ll go get my scissors.”
I watch in confusion as Patrick walks across the patio then across the driveway to the garage, which he walks around, heading to the back.
“Where’s he going?” I ask.
“Oh. There’s an apartment on the other side of the garage. He lives there when we’re here.”
“Not in the house?”
“No. We’re really not together. I don’t want you worrying about that.”
“I’m just trying to understand.”
Ethan snorts. “Good luck with that. I’ve known him for ten years, and even I don’t understand. We’re friends but more than friends. We’re not together and never will be. I trust Patrick so much, but I’ve never been able to be with him like I am with you.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’m different with you. Patrick clocked it from the start. I act different with you. I feel different with you. I don’t know, Levi, I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“That’s okay.”
“I feel like it’s right there, like I almost know. But I can’t grasp it. I feel so strange.”
“Yeah,” I agree, realizing that I do too. This is what Patrick meant, I think, when he said that it was new and scary.
When I hear Patrick’s shoes crunching across the gravel, I sit up and look over my shoulder. He’s carrying a black cloth and other things in his hand. It’s strange to be around him. It’s strange to think about his history with Ethan.
Reaching the patio, Patrick drags a small table away from where it’s sitting by the other chair.
He motions me over. Ethan’s hands drag across my body as I extricate myself from him, like he doesn’t want to let me go.
He sighs loudly, maybe unhappily, as I sit on the table and Patrick shakes out a black barber’s cape.
“Don’t get jealous,” Patrick warns, keeping an eye on Ethan as he swings the cape around me. “It’s just a haircut, and it was your idea.”
Ethan replies shortly, “I know.”
Patrick snaps the cape at the back of my neck. “So what are we doing, Levi?”
“I don’t know. You have actual tools, so I think you know more than I do. Just make it look better please.”
Patrick gets to work. Halfway through, Ethan gets out of the chair and comes to sit on the flagstones at my feet.
Something about having him there while Patrick is trimming my hair, which no one has done in a long time, makes me choke up.
All of it makes me feel like I’m being taken care of and there’s nothing for me to do but sit here and let it happen.
“Sorry,” I mutter as my eyes water and I have to swipe at them. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Ethan’s fingers find mine on my knee. “Do you want to stop?”
Patrick pauses his work, taking his hands away from me.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Really. I just feel dumb.”
Ethan’s fingers squeeze mine. “There’s nothing dumb about it.”
I nod, and Patrick goes back to work. I relax as I start to feel like my emotions are okay, like no one minds.
“There,” Patrick says at last, combing back my hair. “How’s that?”
Ethan smiles a little. “It looks really good.”
“Does it?” I ask, needing confirmation, or maybe just another compliment, or maybe more of Ethan’s smile.
He says, “I can see more of your face now. I like that.”
Patrick whisks the cape off me and shakes it out in the grass at the edge of the patio. “I’m gonna finish the food, then I’ll head to my place.”
A shift happens in my mind, and something abruptly becomes very, very clear. I’m not the extra here. Patrick is. He’s the one who will leave. He’s the one who will be alone. And the only reason he’s been here is to help us.
“Thanks, Patrick,” I say, really meaning it this time.
I think he hears it because he smiles a little before he goes inside.
Ethan and I settle in the Adirondak chair again. I feel like I’m smashing him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. We stay there so long that Patrick eventually leaves. We stay there until afternoon fades to evening.
We go inside and eat spaghetti then go upstairs. Ethan is quiet, but I guess I am too. I’ve realized something that feels both obvious and terrifying.
I don’t even let it form into words in my mind, not fully, not until we’re in the bathroom brushing our teeth, when I’m watching Ethan in the mirror as he keeps touching my hair.
I love him.
The words catch me suddenly, like a blow to my chest. They steal my breath with their absoluteness.
I love him.