Chapter 23 Brandon #2
I look down at her. Tears track down her face as she walks down memory lane. I take my hands out of my pockets and wrap my arms around her shoulders, holding her to me and giving her any sort of comfort.
“He got on the ladder after I said I couldn’t handle painting that high up.
Wasn’t too big on heights back then, I’m still not actually.
And I was in the middle of painting by the door when I heard ‘oops’ and looked over to see him staring at that spot.
Liam said he would fix it before Mom even noticed.
But then he went back to school, got back together with Kamryn, and never fixed his paint job. ”
Her tears have soaked through my shirt as I kiss the top of her head. “Maybe he kept meaning to do it.”
She snorts and wraps her arms tighter around my waist. “My brother was a lot of things, but reliable and keeping to his word was not one of them.”
Those words hang and I realize how bad a brother he was to her. Not keeping his word, deciding that not being here was better than facing his problems, and not taking into consideration Angie’s dreams. And in a non-brotherly way, I silently promise to keep my word.
“Do you have everything?” I ask and press another kiss on the top of her head because it’s time for us to leave.
“Yeah,” she sighs, “I am going to miss my piano though.”
“We’ll get you a new one,” I say offhandedly.
Angie shakes her head and pulls away from me to gather up her bags.
I take one of the duffels and two of the suitcases, while she takes the remaining pieces, and together we head downstairs.
I look back and see her stopped in the foyer, taking the house key off her set, and moving into the room with her piano.
The metal clank of the key on the lid is deafening.
Angie stands at the piano, likely remembering all the time she spent perfecting her skills.
She may not want a piano, but another promise I’m making is to get her a piano as soon as possible.
My heart breaks for her as I see her head drop and her shoulders shake as the realization settles in that this is no longer her home. If this is how her parents reacted, then I can’t imagine how mine will react.
When she turns around, I put on a brave face.
But deep down, I am breaking for her.
We walk as quickly as we can out of the house with snow and ice covering the walkway.
I drive us back to the park, get out, and round to the passenger side and open her door.
I sit on the doorframe and reach my hand out, lightly tracing her jaw that’s clenched from the force of her refusing to let the sobs free.
“Baby,” I whisper. It’s that name that has her breaking, falling forward, crippled, and overwhelmed with emotion.
I catch her. Angie gasps for breath as the events of the last hour catch up to her.
I hold her to me as if that’ll keep her together.
“Let it out, Angel. I know this is hard. I know that you love your parents. I know you wished they’d love the partner you choose. ”
Her whimpers of sadness are like daggers to the heart. Was that the last time she’ll see her parents? If it was, did it have to end like that? While I’ll never understand their reasoning, as I’m not a parent—how could they do that to their only child?
I place kisses on the side of her head and pull back to look at her. Slow tears fall down her face and I wipe each one away gently with my thumbs. “I’m gonna love you enough for three people. I promise.”
Angie’s lips tremble from my admission and I place a kiss on her forehead, pulling her to me in another hug. My legs have gone numb from how I’m sitting, mixed with the cold when Angie pulls back. But comforting her is more important than my comfort.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“I do. I wouldn’t have been able to do that if it weren’t for you.”
I wipe a stray tear from under her eye and cup her face. “You would have. Your parents are going to miss out on your strength and light. I feel bad for them.”
Her blue eyes slide up to mine, and a small smile cracks for the first time since earlier this afternoon. “I love you. I don’t think I’ve said it enough.”
“You don’t need to say it all the time for me to know how you feel,” I reassure her. “So you know, I love you too. And I promise to be the best roommate you’ll ever have.”
“I know,” she says with a small smile and a few more tears trailing down her cheeks. “Are you ready to tackle your family?”
I nod solemnly, giving her a quick kiss, and standing up before shutting the door and rounding back to the driver’s side.
Me: Headed to the house.
Evan: I just got here.
Malcolm: I’m leaving the firehouse now.
Ford: I think they’re in a good mood.
Me: I’ll drive slow.
After texting my brothers, I drop my phone in the cupholder and head off in the direction of my parents’ house.
My grip on the steering wheel can be accounted for by two things: navigating the snowy backroads and nerves over telling my family that Angie and I are dating.
The ride there is silent. Which is good because I feel like I’m gonna barf. My nerves somewhat settle when I see Malcolm and Evan’s trucks parked in the driveway and I pull in behind Ford’s since he still lives here.
“I haven’t been here in years,” Angie says quietly while looking up at the sprawling home.
Growing up, I always thought everyone had houses like ours.
I wouldn’t call it a mansion—but with five boys, my parents invested in a four-thousand-square-foot home, which gave us just enough room to not be on top of each other.
But then I’d hang out with other friends from school and realize how privileged my brothers and I were to live somewhere like this.
I can’t help but think that this might be my last time here.
“Are you ready?” Angie asks and takes my hand in hers.
“No,” I tell her honestly, “but this is the next step to being out in the open.”
She nods and places a kiss on the top of my hand, then unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car.
Hand in hand, we walk up the front steps and I open the door that’s rarely locked when they know we’re coming over.
The smell of dinner hits my senses along with the sound of the television and my brothers talking over each other.
I release Angie’s hand and take off my jacket, then help her take off hers.
Our hands once again lock as we head to the heart of the house.
We stand just out of view, but Ford sees us, and his eyes go wide. Wordlessly, he grabs the remote and turns the volume down.
“What’d you do that for?” my dad asks from his spot on the couch.
“Um,” he begins, but looks to me for help. My dad notices the movement and turns around with a smile, before it dissolves completely at seeing Angie by my side.
“Ford, go to your room,” Dad orders with the sharpest voice I’ve ever heard.
“I think I’ll stay,” Ford tells my dad.
“Ben, what’s going—” my mom begins as she comes out of the kitchen, but by the sharp intake of her breath, I know she sees Angie.
My brothers all stand off to the side as we wait. Wait for the inevitable explosion. Wait for my news to ruin this family.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“What do you mean, you’ll stay?” Dad sneers after seconds of heavy silence.
“Is this why you’ve been so tight-lipped about who you’re dating?” my mom asks, and I wince at the betrayal that coats her question.
“Yes.”
“How could you do that to us? To James?” she accuses.
“She did nothing to James,” I fight.
“No. But you did and so did her brother,” Dad bellows and I feel Angie tense.
“She is not her brother,” I defend.
“No. She’s not. But I will be damned if I have someone related to him in this house,” my mom spits, and I feel Angie’s hand tighten around me at the attack.
“Mom,” I plead, feeling like a little boy who just got put in timeout, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Angie put her head down.
“No.”
“Fine,” I surrender and grit my teeth. “We came over to tell you that for the last six months we’ve been seeing each other.
And in that time, we fell in love. And we also knew that when we came clean to our families that we’d accept the fallout.
However, we never expected you all to be cruel, so we’ll go.
But don’t expect me to come back here until you accept us.
Because I love her. And you can throw James’s name around all you want.
Yes, I miss my brother every day. So does she.
But the difference is that I have three brothers left, who’ve come to accept us as a couple. She doesn’t.”
“You boys knew?” my dad asks, his rage palpable as he turns to face my brothers.
I step forward, but keep my hand locked with Angie’s. “They promised not to say anything because we all knew how you would react. So don’t blame them because it wasn't their news to share.”
My brothers give us a soft smile, and with that, I look at Angie, whose tears have yet to stop, and turn toward the door.
“James would be so disappointed in you,” my mom says behind my back and Angie gasps as we come to a sudden stop.
I turn around and look at the woman, who I thought would be accepting of any woman I brought home, looking like a complete stranger.
The years of hurt, anger, and loss have carved her out into someone bitter—into someone I don’t even recognize.
My eyes move over every single one of my family members before landing back on the woman who gave birth to me.
I square my shoulders and say, “No, Mom. He’d be disappointed in you. ”
With a final look at my brothers, who look utterly torn and distraught, Angie squeezes my hand, and together we walk out of my childhood home.