FELT MOVEMENT
Jordan
Hiding in my parents’ basement, avoiding my dad as long as possible, Stephen, Monty, and I hung out like we were in high school again.
“Tell me again in slow motion. I think I’m missing something.” Stephen tilted his whiskey glass slightly, knocking the ice to the side. “Try miming it while you talk. I like visuals better than words.”
“You’re an idiot. She said she’d give me a second chance to prove I’m not a completely shallow asshole who thinks of her as a one-night stand. How is this hard to comprehend?”
“The part I’m struggling with is, was this before or after you had a one-night stand with her?”
“Right.” Monty pointed. “And the skinny jeans. I’m lost on the skinny jeans.”
“Seriously.” Stephen laughed, nodding in delight at Monty. “He reminds me of one of those new boy bands. The, uhhhhh . . .” He moved his hand like he was waving through traffic. “The Korean kids. The, uhhhhh—K-pop stars!” He got it at last. Only the reference was lost on me.
“There are these Korean bands who sing and dance like the Backstreet Boys, only they’re sort of attractive in a way that makes you question your sexuality—”
“I’m your brother!” I shouted. “Stop! Your sexuality is legitimately off-limits. You’re honestly offensive.”
Monty was keeling over laughing as Stephen continued. “Not like how you’re making me question my sexuality now. I might have, like, felt movement when I saw your ass in those pants!”
“No. Shut it down,” I demanded.
“Oh, come on, like you’ve never met a guy who made you question whether or not you’d—”
“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. At all. Question away, but details, whether about guys or girls, are never welcome. They weren’t when you had that threesome with Mindi and Robert, and they weren’t when you slept with our aunt—”
“She’s married to our uncle. She’s not related.” He laughed harder, as did Monty, who was turning red from lack of oxygen.
“You’re a pervert. Everyone knows it.”
“Reformed pervert.” He wiped his eyes and chuckled softly as Monty wheezed and nearly took a knee.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” I sat back, covering my groin with my sweater as best as I could. “Jesus. Everyone in Manhattan thinks I’m a pervert because I’m your brother. It’s high school all over again, where I enter the class and they immediately assume I’m the pervy class clown.”
“Look, did you bang her? That’s all we want to know.”
“No!” I shouted, finally losing it.
“I knew it!” Stephen slapped his hand down on his leg. “I knew you didn’t. You filthy little liar. You don’t look nearly happy enough to have banged her.”
“I never lied.”
“Well.” Monty cringed. “You did let us think it.”
“She asked me not to tell anyone. She was so sloppy.” I regretted those words.
“What?” Monty pulled back. “What do you mean?”
“She drank too much.” I didn’t know why she’d wanted to keep the truth from her friends, but she’d asked me to, so I did. “Totally wasted. We went outside to talk, and she passed out. I got her in the car and took her to the hotel so she could sleep it off. I called Fitz to give her an IV so she wouldn’t be hungover.”
Monty scowled. “Jesus. I’ve never seen Lacey drink to the point of needing an IV.”
“Yeah. I don’t know her well enough to say what happened. God knows what they were getting into before we got there.” I acted like it was no big deal.
“Marcia was pretty sober when we arrived, and she said they didn’t really drink much. They had a couple. That’s weird. Have you texted her again?” Monty asked.
“Not yet. I was trying to play it cool.”
“Oh my God, you’re such a dipshit.” Stephen got up and grabbed my phone. “You text right away. She owes you. You saved her from a terrible hangover and got her to a safe place.”
“She’s not like that.” Monty jumped up and snatched my phone and tossed it back to me.
“No. She’s not.” I caught it, locking the screen.
“Why’d she lie to Marcia, though?” Monty’s eyes narrowed.
“I think she was embarrassed. She didn’t want to look bad, I think. She woke up and had no clue what happened. She was pretty out of it.”
“You took care of her, right?” His glare got harsher.
“Dude, it’s Jordan,” Stephen said mockingly, as if being a gentleman was something to laugh about. “He pretty much wrote, produced, and directed the tea-time video about consent.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” I pulled my middle finger out of my jeans pocket like I’d just found it in there for him.
“I just mean, you’re not the sort of guy who hooks up with a girl who’s drunk.” He flipped me off as well.
“No, I’m not. And I don’t think anyone should be.” I glanced at Monty. “It’s why I got her out of there. I didn’t want to risk her being drunk at the bar and some other, sleazier guy taking advantage of her.” Covering for her lie was making me sound like a weirdo. I knew it might, but now that I was actually saying it aloud, I heard how creepy it was.
“You should text her.” Monty folded his arms. “She and Marcia are still with Kami and the girls. Some emergency meeting of the snob squad.” He rolled his eyes and slumped back into the chair, then lifted his drink to his lips. “I don’t know what they’re doing for dinner.” He lifted an eyebrow.
“I can call and ask.” I cracked a grin, unlocking my phone and leaving the room.
Stephen was calling me names as the door closed behind me.
“Hello?” Lacey answered, sounding tired still.
“Hey, it’s Jordan.” I couldn’t help but smile just hearing her voice.
“Hey.” She didn’t sound as happy as I was.
“What are you doing for dinner? I wanted to see if you’d like to meet up.”
“Oh, uhhhhh, not much. Hanging with my family,” she whispered, like she was trying to hide the fact that she was on the phone.
“Oh, you’re not with Marcia and the girls?”
“No.” She sighed. “I have a massive project due tomorrow, and I just couldn’t handle the insanity of it all.”
“Why, what happened?”
“I don’t know. Shit went down between Kami and her boyfriend.” She sounded weird, tense. “Can I have a rain check on dinner?” she asked, making me feel a little better. Maybe her being tired and distant had nothing to do with me, and she was just genuinely exhausted from her ordeal.
“Of course. Want to meet for a celebratory drink after work tomorrow?”
“No,” she said too quickly. “Unless it’s a coffee. I think I might not drink for a while.”
“I love coffee.” And I wanted to see her.
“Okay. Meet me on Tuesday, not tomorrow, outside my off—no, wait. Meet me at Lady M.”
“By Bryant Park?” It was a random spot to meet.
“Yeah. I love those crepe cakes.”
“Okay. So four thirty?”
“Four forty-five,” she said shortly.
“Perfect. Have a great night.”
“You too.” She sighed and continued instead of saying bye. “Sorry I ran out on breakfast.” She sounded better, like it was a switch.
“I forgive you.” I chuckled. “Since you girls ordered, Monty and I got double of everything. It wasn’t awful. Except maybe your extra-crispy bacon. It was nearly burned.”
“Bacon should only be eaten extra crispy,” she said, defending herself.
“No way. It ruined it. I mean, I suffered through for you and all; waste not, want not.”
“Oh my God, suffered! Admit it, combined with those waffles and all that blueberry compote and whipped cream and rosemary-chicken sausage, it was outstanding.” She laughed.
“It was better than outstanding. I had to undo my new skinny jeans and even Instagrammed it,” I admitted, biting my lip and savoring the sound of her laughing. For the first time in a long time, I saw something I wanted, and I was willing to do anything to get it.
“You have to Instagram those pants.” She giggled melodically. “I can’t believe you even have Instagram.”
“I do. It’s mostly pictures of the sea, but there’re a few meals and drinks and possibly a couple of dogs.”
“Wow. Sounds like my grandma’s Insta. I mean she cooked all the meals she takes pictures of, though.”
“Right, so that leaves me feeling slightly less accomplished.” I laughed.
“No!” she shouted, sounding jovial. Not angry or mocking me ruthlessly or near death or hungover. This was her, laughing and joking and maybe even flirting, a little. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re lesser.”
“You did!”
“Okay, but in your defense, my grandma is above everyone. We’re all lesser.”
“Okay, then.” I leaned against the wall of the hallway, smiling until my cheeks hurt. “I’ll accept that. I don’t mind being below your grandmother.”
“She’s a saint.” Her tone changed, just a tiny bit. “She’s taking care of my brother.”
I recalled the news Monty had shared about Lacey’s brother, but I suspected that I shouldn’t know something so intimate about her life.
“Is he younger?”
“Yeah, not by much. He’s almost eighteen. A senior. He has cancer.” She was genuinely giving me a second chance. She wouldn’t have told me this if she weren’t. This was real. Not flirty or uncomfortable talking to fill silence. This was a truth people didn’t share because they wanted to; it was a burden they shared because they needed to.
“I’m so sorry, Lacey.”
“It’s not terminal. He’s totally treatable. But he’s seeing the doctor tomorrow. It’s the other reason I didn’t want to meet until Tuesday. I wanted to go to the hospital and see him. Be there for him. Make sure he feels okay. They’re performing a minor surgery to remove the lump from his throat.”
“Will your parents be there as well?” Was there something about her parents I didn’t know? The way she spoke highly of her grandma but not at all about her parents made me wonder.
“Yeah, Mom will come after work; she’s at a different hospital. And Dad is flying home tomorrow morning for it. He was out of town for meetings.” She cleared her throat, maybe pausing. “They can’t afford Martin’s medical bills if they don’t work extra shifts.” I wished I were there, holding her. She sounded so small on the phone. So distant. “But they’ll make it work. Sorry. That was such a bummer. I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” I clung to the small and desperate voice; it was hers. She was revealing such tiny pieces of herself, crumbs. I needed to sweep them gently into my hand and cling to them. “I’m glad you told me. I want to know you. And that includes the bad.” I sauntered to the back door and opened it, walking out onto the deck. “I’m going to say the thing that every person on the earth says, but I’m going to mean it, and I want you to understand I mean it. If I can be of any help, will you please come to me? Promise you’ll ask?”
“Oh, there’s nothing—”
“You don’t know. I’m sure right now there’s nothing, but at some point if there is, I want you to ask me.” I sat down and wondered where in the city she was. I wondered what her view was and how I could make her mine. My view.
“Thanks,” she said after a moment. “I appreciate that.”
“Tell me something else. Something you don’t want to tell me. It can be anything.”
“All right . . . I need advice, actually. I want to ask you a hypothetical question, and I need an honest answer.”
“Shoot.”
“If you knew something about someone that was bad, like they did something really terrible and it was not only illegal but horribly wrong and they did it to other people—”
“I’d tell. No questions asked, I would tell. You can’t protect people who hurt others.”
“But the problem is the person—”
I cut her off again. “I assume you mean they’re part of the ‘in’ crowd and have wealthy and powerful parents?”
“Yeah.” She was back to sounding small.
“Whatever you can sleep with.”
“What?”
“If you can sleep with the knowledge that you did nothing because you were afraid of backlash, then let it lie. But if you know you won’t be able to let it go and it’ll consume you, then you have no choice: fuck ’em. If you want, I’ll do it for you. If you tell me what it is, I’ll out it and take all the blame.” I wondered if this had something to do with her being drugged.
“No, this is something I have to do myself. But you answered my question for me.”
“And you didn’t answer mine.” I grew worried, concerned over the question. “But whatever it is, I’ll protect you.”
“Thanks.” She sounded unsure about that. Either not sure if I was telling the truth or not sure if it was too soon for me to say something so intense. But it felt right, in sync with the theme we had going. Brothers and cancer and grandmas and secrets about rich, elite asshats. Adding that I would protect her, like I had already since we’d met, seemed like the right thing to say.
“You tell me something you don’t want to.” She smiled when she spoke; I could hear it.
“I’m still wearing those stupid pants.”
“What?” She burst out laughing. “Why?”
“I can’t go upstairs. My dad is pissed at me, and I haven’t seen him yet. I’m hiding out, actually, on the back deck right now. If I go to my room, he’ll hear me from his office and come scream at me. And my brother refuses to go upstairs for me because he’s a twat.”
“Yes. I’ve ruined his life in ending that ridiculous charade of a relationship he forced me into. I already told you, I followed your advice and manned up and stopped acting like a little bitch, as you so eloquently said it.”
“I never said little bitch.” She was still laughing, but it sounded different, less relaxed.
“Honestly, it shouldn’t have ever happened. I should have said no and meant it from the start. It’s awful. But my dad will have to learn to get past it and figure out a new friend to get drunk with and seduce into his treasure tomb. And my grandpa is probably losing some major business deals over it, which I hate, but I couldn’t sacrifice myself for the monetary gain.” The part I didn’t say was that thanks to her, I had a reason not to.
“Isn’t there someone you can introduce your dad to, a new friend to distract him with?”
“There is.” I nodded, staring off into space. “There’s an investor my brother is wooing who would be a great replacement friend. I think Stephen is bringing him to dinner sometime this week to fill the void. And he has sons, so I should be reasonably safe from forced relations.”
“Oh my God.” She laughed. “You rich people. You’re so crazy. Well, maybe if the investor is cool, your dad will forget you ever refused to date a girl so he could make money.”
“He’s an elephant. He’ll never forget. And he’ll never forgive. And I have to be okay with that. It was part of the dilemma I had.” I made myself small for her, sharing something I really didn’t want to. But like her burden, I needed someone to know.
“Your father probably will forgive you. He loves you. He’s your dad.”
“No,” I sighed. “He doesn’t love me. He loves my grandfather’s power and his family’s money and the life it’s afforded him. And when I do things to show that he isn’t the head of the family and that he doesn’t have control over me, he feels like I’ve lifted his skirt up and showed his junk to everyone.”
“Your dad has no power?”
“Not really. He and my uncle are both inept. Their well-connected father made sure they both married wealthy women. But the power and responsibility were never in their hands. My grandpa will hand the reins of the company over to my brother.”
“Your brother?” She didn’t sound so impressed.
“He might be a known ladies’ man and party hog, but he’s got a real head for business.”
“What about you?”
“I guess, numbers. I’m not terrible with it.” I smiled. “I don’t love business meetings, and I hate selling things to people. But numbers are pretty straightforward and common sense. They’re exactly what you expect them to be. It’s black-and-white, and the rules never change.”
“What about the editor in chief or the sailor? Although I have to admit, I never would have imagined either of those being your passion.”
“Well, I don’t think I’ve put my best foot forward with you, so why would you assume anything that wasn’t terrible about me? I mean, sailors are a misjudged group of people to begin with.”
“Why’d you do it?” she asked, changing the subject to too many possible answers.
“What?”
“Try to kiss me in the bathroom that night on the yacht?”
“I suspect the same reason you tried to kiss me.”
“I said something that spoke to your soul?” she asked, hitting me well below the belt.
“No. I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, and you made me laugh. And you didn’t seem like you fit in. And you told me to just live and fuck ’em. And I thought maybe it was a sign I shouldn’t do what my father had saddled me with.”
“And then you decided the best way to win me over the second time meeting me was to hit on me right in front of your pretend girlfriend instead of breaking things off with her and finding me in an honorable way?”
“I don’t know what I thought. I didn’t think.” I contemplated it all for a second, trying to remember what was in my head. “I just acted; I was so excited to see you. You had all that damn makeup on when we met the first time, and I was sure I wouldn’t ever recognize you again. And then there you were—like, a second time you were exactly the thing I needed. And from the moment I met you, my brain split. There’s before I met you and after, like seeing you standing there on that boat, staring at the city all alone, or laughing with your friends so unabashedly. You flipped a switch in me. You turned something on, not to sound corny. Something just clicked. And everything since has been crazy and chaotic and not like me at all. I don’t even mind that everything is a mess, because you said you’d give me a second chance. And that’s all I can think about.”
She didn’t say a word, making my stomach ache with curiosity. Had I shared too much? Grown too small?
Finally she said, “So if you hadn’t met me, would you have continued on with Amy?”
“Maybe a little while longer,” I said honestly.
“But we met, and now you’ve ruined your family?”
“Yeah.” This was starting to feel like a trap.
“For me?”
“Uh-huh.” I bit my lip and played it all back in my mind, waiting for the bottom to fall out.
“Why?”
“Because if I didn’t break up with her, I couldn’t ever pursue you. Not without you thinking I just wanted something basic like a one-night stand or a notch on the belt. And if I waited too long, I’d miss my chance. Someone else would ask you out, and I would spend my entire life wondering.” Beyond telling her about my humiliating first time having sex, there really wasn’t much left of me that she didn’t know.
“I see.” She said it like she didn’t see at all.
“Why does this feel like you’re looking for something wrong?”
“I am. I’m trying desperately to find a flaw in you, aside from the fact that you willingly let your dad prostitute you out.” Her confession stung.
“A flaw? I have plenty.”
“No. You don’t.” She sighed.
“And that makes you sad?” She was killing me.
“I don’t know what it makes me, but I have to go. Call me tomorrow, if you want to.”
“Okay. Have a nice night. Thanks for taking my call.”
“In all honesty, I didn’t recognize the number,” she said, like maybe she had smiled again.
“Well, thanks for being so real and having a normal conversation.”
“This was the least normal conversation I’ve ever had with a guy.” She laughed softly. “And that is why I’m letting you call me tomorrow. Good night, Jordan.”
“Good night, Lacey.” I listened as she hung up. The severing of the connection was painful. And I knew I wouldn’t sleep. But the hope of speaking to her tomorrow was enough to keep me going.
Even through wearing these ridiculous pants and avoiding upstairs.
Eventually I built up the courage to slip into my room, sneaking quietly and contemplating everything Lacey and I had said to each other. I was midchange from the pants, which I threw in the trash bin in the bathroom, when the light flicked on in my room.
“Jordie?” Mom’s voice spoke my name too loudly.
I cringed but answered. “Yeah.”
“Oh, honey. I didn’t know you were home. Look—” She leaned on the bathroom door, ignoring me in my underwear standing next to the sink and holding a pair of pajama pants. “We need to talk about this Amy thing. Her dad isn’t taking our calls, and her uncle’s lawyer scheduled an emergency meeting for Monday.” Her dead-fish eyes flashed on mine, and for a second I thought I saw emotion.
“Not a chance. I’m not dating her. I don’t even like her, and she absolutely hates me, she told me. There’re plenty of ways to—”
“We all do things we don’t want to, Jordie. Life is about sacrifices for your family.”
“No, Mom, it’s not. That might be your life, but it’s not mine.” I treaded lightly, not wanting to hurt her but determined not to play this game anymore. “Don’t you ever wonder what it might have been like to fall in love? Real love?”
“Jordan?” Dad’s voice boomed from the bedroom doorway, making us both flinch. He was drunk. “You selfish little fucker. Why can’t you think about your family for once?” He staggered into my room.
“I’m selfish?” I asked, laughing bitterly as I came out of the bathroom to face him.
“Yeah, you’ve had a charmed fucking life, kid, and that business deal you’re killing by breaking up with that girl is worth more than you.” He pointed, but his hand wavered a bit. “So you’re goddamned gonna fix it. Or so help me God—”
“What? She dumped me. What do you honestly think I can do about that?”
“You didn’t want to date her. You did this.”
Apparently my ploy to be dumped hadn’t helped. At all.
“You’re bullshit.” Dad pointed again, stepping toward me.
I stepped forward, looking him right in the eyes, and actually down on him. I was sober, bigger, stronger, and angry in a way he didn’t know I could be. My trembling hands whispered bad ideas to my brain. “What are you going to do to me? Get me a lobotomy and force Amy on me? You can’t even spell lobotomy. And Amy wouldn’t take me back if her life depended on it. She was using me to make her parents happy. She has another boyfriend they hate.” The truth, or some version of it, accidentally slipped out.
“Don’t do this.” Mom stepped in between us and pushed him back. “Don’t do this.”
“Go sleep it off.” I pointed at the bedroom door.
“Don’t you talk to me like that!” He pushed past Mom, knocking her into the bureau and reaching for me. I slapped his hands away and shoved him back, pushing hard on his chest. He stumbled, losing his balance. I’d never seen him this way before.
“Jordie, don’t!” Mom shouted behind me, begging.
“Jordie!” Stephen and Monty shouted my name from the hallway.
I realized in that moment my arm was back and my fist was balled. I had Dad’s shirt in my other hand, and I was about to give him the beating of a lifetime. I didn’t even notice we’d gotten here. Or remember how. But Dad was cowering, and Mom was crying, and I was filled with rage I couldn’t explain. I hated him, and I wasn’t even sure why.
“Get the fuck outta my house!” He spat his words at me. “You’re no son of mine.”
“Been waiting my whole life to be able to say that, haven’t you?” I released him, letting him fall back on my bed.
“Jordan!” My mom ran after me, grabbing my arm and spinning me. “Go to Grandpa.” She kissed me on the cheek, and for the first time in a long time, I felt the presence of my mother in the embrace.
“I don’t need you people.” I muttered it like I was strong, but that wasn’t the truth. They were breaking my heart.
And then my brother and my friend grabbed me, dragging me away.
It was not my finest moment.
Not by a long shot.
But I was finding my own way now, as nobody’s son.