27. Clint
Iwas happy Brodie came home with me after the picnic, and so was Dee. The three of us decided to play a new platform game Dee had asked for. Rather, I was trying to play, and Dee would get frustrated and take the controller from me every time I missed a jump.
Brodie didn’t seem to have a problem with the game, and the two of them easily fell into a co-op version.
When Aubrey joined us, she joined the fun, but Dee didn’t have much more patience for her play style than mine.
After the game, and through dinner, Aubrey was quiet.
When Dee asked what was wrong, Aubrey said, “It was a long day.”
Dee frowned. “So, grown-up stuff?”
Aubrey smiled. “Yes.”
“Bad grown-up stuff?”
Aubrey shook her head. “Not the kind that will make you sad.”
Dee screwed up her face for a moment. “Can I come to your store after school tomorrow and help you design?”
This time Aubrey’s smile reached her eyes. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Dee was happy again.
When it was time for her to go to bed, she had more arguments than normal, mostly around what it would be like going to her new school tomorrow. I reminded her all of her weekend friends would be there, people she already knew, and that she would have a lot of fun, and eventually got her to stay in her room and go to sleep.
I didn’t want Aubrey or Brodie to go home tonight, but I had places to be in the morning too. Still, I could keep them here a bit longer.
Aubrey had promised a conversation, and it was one I thought we all needed to have, but first I needed to know what was going on with her.
When I asked, she gave me a similar shake of the head to what she’d given Dee. “I just have some things to think through.”
She and Brodie and I were in the living room, with the TV running softly in the background, more to keep our conversation from reaching the bedrooms than to watch.
I was pushier than Aubrey was, and wouldn’t wait her out the way she had with Sylvie. “You’re there for anyone who asks you for help,” I said. “Even if they don’t ask, you go out of your way for your friends, for us, for your sister. Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to think through it alone.”
“It’s not anything that needs to be solved. Just thoughts stuck in my brain.”
“Then say them out loud and unstick them,” Brodie offered.
She shook her head again.
I grasped her wrist loosely and tugged. She didn’t offer any resistance as I pulled her into my lap. “Talk to us.”
“It’s all jumbled. I’m just tired.”
“Of what?” I felt tired to my core after the last few weeks, but I wasn’t going to project my feelings on her or put words in her mouth.
Aubrey sighed. “Of expectations. Of assumptions. That if you look different or act different or think different… Everyone has an opinion about the right way to stop doing that. To not be different. And none of them seem to realize that every fucking person in the world needs to be their own person.
“But it doesn’t matter to most people. My grandma wants perfect little granddaughters who are capable of ruling the world and raising families at the same time. Anyone who isn’t pursuing one or the other—or God help me, both—must not be worthy. Sylvie was willing to surrender everything to live up to that ideal.”
Aubrey licked her lips. “And Regina… Dee thinking that if she’s not thin enough or talented enough—at ten fucking years old—that she’s not lovable. What the fuck?”
I felt the frustration pouring off her, and I understood. I couldn’t do more than hold her and listen and agree.
“I’m tired of people being cruel for the sake of it or to feel something,” Aubrey wasn’t done. “Tired of people who assume the world owes them something because they exist. Men like Peter. Women like Neva. I’m tired of constantly having to defend myself because I’d rather create and wear my art than make a Fortune list.”
“And that appearances mean everything.” Brodie chimed in. “That people take and take and use and use. That they project who they are and what they want, instead of listening.”
I was glad Dee didn’t have to hear this, and I wanted to chime in as well. “Even if you figure out who you are, the world tells you that’s wrong. Success for so many people means not caring about anyone else. You want to see people achieve their dreams, you help without hesitation, but damn it, you want the chance to do the same for yourself.”
Aubrey’s huff sounded like agreement. “I spent years pursuing a man who barely looked at me, and convinced myself he was the key to my happiness.”
“I built an empire and then had it taken from me, and I still don’t know what I want out of life,” Brodie said.
How was this all so relatable? “And there’s never a chance to figure it out, because there are always higher priorities.” I didn’t mean Dee. She was more important than anything. But the career I’d abandoned. The spotlight I’d walked away from. I’d almost lost a chance at the two incredible people sitting with me because there was always something else going on.
Aubrey leaned into me and settled her head on my chest. “And that’s why I’m just fucking tired.”
I rested my chin on the top of her head and leaned us both into Brodie, who turned enough to press his back into my arm and hold us up.
I didn’t have the same frustrations they both did, but I felt all of this. Saw what Dee was going through. And I’d asked myself more than once would things be different if…?
“Here’s the thing,” I said. “The future isn’t set in stone. It’s not as if millions of years ago, some ancient beings saw visions of the whole of eternity and wrote it all down and now we’re bound to their prophecies.”
“That’s oddly specific.” Brodie sounded amused.
The best examples frequently were. “Stick with me. Yes, our pasts make us what we are—who we are. If Brodie had stayed here after high school, not only would the world have missed out on what he discovered, but Brodie, you’d be different. I can’t say how, but you wouldn’t be this. Maybe I wouldn’t have Dee—and the idea of that hurts. Maybe you would have withdrawn or opened a book store or… Or…”
I let the thought float into the air and evaporate. “Aubrey, do you regret where you are in life?”
“No.”
“Because you’re amazing and talented and you get to share that. You give every day. Not because you feel obligated, but because of who you are and because you like seeing people happy.”
“I do.” There was a lift to her reply.
“And yeah, there are days I wish my dance career had gone somewhere.” Though at this age, it wouldn’t be going anywhere much longer. “And there are days I crave the spotlight so badly it aches. Then some student thanks me for helping chemistry make sense, or Dee tells me about an idea she had, or I see one of you… I wouldn’t pursue that dream if it meant missing out on any of this.”
“Not sure I see your point.” Brodie used that flat delivery that made it hard to tell if he was serious or ribbing me.
I was happy to go into more detail regardless. “My point is, we do what we can with the hand we’re dealt, and as long as we stay true to ourselves, we made the right choice. If we couldn’t be us in the past, we do it moving forward. We learn, we grow, we hurt, we make mistakes. We think Deacon is prime man meat for whatever ungodly reason…” I needed to lighten the mood in here.
Aubrey almost laughed, and she sat up enough to swat me in the chest. “He’s cute.”
“He had a fucking man bun.”
“Exactly.” Aubrey thought more highly of the hairstyle than I did. “And he had a mural of Helms Deep painted on one of his walls.”
“But?” I prodded.
“But he loves other people, and so do I,” Aubrey said.
My heart lifted at the implication.
“Yeah? Who?” Brodie was apparently still playing the straight man.
God bless him.
Aubrey shook her head, still smiling. “You, Goof. Both of you.”
“Deacon loves me?” Brodie managed to ask the incredulous question with a straight face.
Aubrey laughed harder in response.
This felt good. Nothing she said was fixed, but it could all be dealt with. “You don’t want Deacon’s love,” I said to Brodie.
“Because man bun?”
I pretended to consider the question. “That too. But my man buns are way hotter than his.”
“This is true,” Aubrey conceded. “You’ve got a really nice ass.”
Brodie sighed loudly. “I don’t know. I might have to see both, in order to compare.”
“I’ll call him,” I said. “He can come over?—”
“You will not.” Aubrey stopped my slow reach for my phone. “I’m spilling my heart out here and trying to confess my love for both of you. Don’t you dare call someone else. Especially not Deacon.”
“Oh.” Brodie’s eyes went comically wide, and I could almost see the cartoon light bulb above his head. “You meant you love us.”
Aubrey slid from my lap, pushing Brodie aside enough to drop onto the couch between us, and she tugged his face toward her. “Yes.” Her voice was lighter than it had been all evening. “I love you both so much.” She tilted her head back to look at me. “And Clint has a point—we can’t change what happened before, but we can make the best decisions possible going forward. That’s mine. Telling you both that I love you.”
I kissed her forehead. “I love you too. For so long.” I tugged her back.
She squealed as she lost her balance, and Brodie grabbed her arm, pulling her upright again. He pressed his mouth to hers. “I feel kind of like a copycat saying it now, but I mean it. I love you too, Peach.”
Aubrey’s laugh was musical, especially mixed with the harmony of Brodie’s chuckle. This was perfect. I really did feel like we could confront whatever came next, regardless of what it was.