Chapter 21: Kyle
I got worried when Bethany didn’t answer my text yesterday. When she didn’t answer today, and then dropped the call, I got more worried. I had been on my way to the gym when I decided to check in on her. That was when she’d miscalled me.
When I arrived, I was only a little worried—after all, Bethany was not the sort of person likely to be involved in something dangerous. And then I saw him.
“What the heck?” I said, staring at Bethany. I was confused.
Though I didn’t think it seemed likely, the first thing that came to my head was that Bethany was two-timing me with someone. I looked at the guy. The guy laughed.
“You look confused,” he said pointedly.
“I am,” I said, giving him a frown. “Bethany? What’s going on here?”
The guy laughed. “You ask her? Why? You think she’ll tell you?” he shook his head.
Trust.
“I know she will,” I said confidently. “Bethany? What is this?”
“Kyle,” she said, her voice a sob. “Please, just leave. I’ll explain later.”
“Oh,” the guy said. He was as tall as I was, at least, with sandy hair and pale eyes—gray or green, I couldn’t necessarily tell. He seemed a pleasant person. Was Bethany fooling around?
“Bethany?” I asked.
“Kyle, please,” she sobbed.
The guy—I seemed to recall Bethany calling him Luke—laughed. “Yeah, look at her. She’s not going to tell you. Maybe I should.”
“Don’t listen to him, Kyle,” Bethany sobbed. “He’s going to lie.”
Luke smiled. “You seem a reasonable guy,” he said. “Well, listen. Bethany and I…we go way back. You don’t want to step in now. Really, you don’t.”
“What’re you talking about?”
He laughed. “She’s not yours. She’s mine.”
Bethany looked at the guy with horror. I looked at her.
“Kyle, just go?” she said. “I’ll tell you later. Please?”
I looked at her. Then I looked at him. The expression on her face was torment. The expression on his face was pleasure. I frowned.
“Can someone explain this?” I said carefully. I was almost sure I believed Bethany. I didn’t want to leave, though. If I left her with him, alone, who knew what would happen to her?
He smiled. “I just did. Bethany and I are an item. I don’t know what you heard. But she’s mine. So, if you heard anything else, she lied to you.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t believe her if I were you. She does sometimes mix truth and fiction. Artistic temperament, you know…” he made a gesture.
I looked at Bethany. She had closed her eyes. “How dare you?” she said quietly.
I was pretty sure I knew what was going on here. The fact was, though, that Luke clearly did know her. And Bethany had never mentioned him.
“Bethany?” I said.
She was looking at me with a pleading expression. Then she glanced at Luke. He had moved fractionally closer to her, his shoulder between me and Bethany, pushing me out.
I shook my head. “Bethany?” I said again.
Trust.
“Kyle, just go?” she pleaded. “Now?”
Luke reached out to her. She flinched. He smiled. I couldn’t quite see her face, since he had stepped in front of her, between me and her. I shifted. He smiled.
“Go away,” he said. “You heard her. She wants you to leave.”
I looked at Bethany despairingly.
“Why would she want you to leave,” he asked, “unless she didn’t want you?”
Trust.
“I think I’ll let Bethany answer that question,” I said.
I finally realized how wrong this was. Like my father had, he was lying to me. Manipulating me. Using my guilt and my lack of self-esteem to twist me around in circles. And I wasn’t going to let it happen. I had trusted Mom. I trusted Bethany. It was time to hear their stories.
Luke moved between us.
“Tell him, Bethany,” he said harshly. “Tell him you want me. Not him. Just tell him, now.”
Bethany looked at me, her eyes wet with tears.
“Kyle, please!”
I snapped. I grabbed the back of Luke’s collar and pushed my weight against him, slamming him forward toward the wall. Bethany moved aside, screaming.
“Luke! Kyle! No! Please!”
I felt Luke tense and then slam a fist into me. I was fifteen and on the street. I was eighteen and in the pub. I was twenty-nine, facing my dad.
I screamed in rage and hit him, hard.
His fist slammed into my ribs. I felt one of them crack. I grunted and swung a fist at his head. He ducked and struck me a blow to the shoulder. I yelled and hit him again, this time landing a blow on his arm. He staggered back. Then used the stair to raise himself and rained a blow down on me.
“Luke! Kyle! Stop!” Bethany screamed.
I was fighting Luke now, grappling in a wrestling move. We went from side to side, swaying and grunting. He threw me and I collapsed on my side.
“Kyle!”
Luke was crazy. He was on top of me, hands on my shoulders, reaching to press down on my neck, cutting off the veins. Not crazy, I thought dimly as my eyes lost focus. Smart. It’s much faster than cutting off the windpipe.
I was reaching for his throat, my own vision throbbing: white and black, fuzzy and indistinct. I knew I couldn’t last out much longer: my world was a tunnel of black, shot through with white.
“Kyle!” a voice screamed.
I felt my world go black. Something made a terrible noise nearby. Then, suddenly, my vision was clear. I let out a gasp.
I rolled over. My head pounded, my vision white and black and tunnels of gray. I rolled over, choking.
“Oh, oh…” I felt awful.
“Kyle,” I heard a voice say. “Oh, Kyle. Oh!”
I felt soft hands stroke my hair, and my mind slowly returned to sense and time. I was on the ground. Bethany was with me. She was checking me.
“You’re okay, aren’t you, Kyle?” she was saying. Her hands ran over my shoulders, down my back, over my ribs. I grunted as she felt the swelling up.
“I think…fine,” I said weakly. I staggered into a seated position. My vision was black, thrumming with gray.
I heard Bethany crying.
I turned around and held her. Rocked her. Kissed her rose-scented hair.
“It’s okay,” I said. I coughed. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
She was hysterical. I noticed that Luke was lying on the pathway behind us, still awake but clearly in some pain.
Beside him was a brick.
I stared at Bethany wordlessly, my heart swelling with admiration. She had hit him on the head with a brick.
I held her close. Rocked. “It’s okay,” I said gently. “Do you think you have a key for inside?”
“Here,” she said.
We stood and very slowly, very carefully, for she was very weary, went in.
We locked the door behind us.
I led her through to the sitting room and sat her on the couch. Held her for a minute.
“Can I do something?” I said.
“Rodney’s… on his way,” she sniffed.
I nodded. Stood.
I went to the front door. She had left the key in the inside, so I unlocked it and walked out. Luke was still lying on the path.
I didn’t even feel fury anymore. I felt nothing. I lifted him.
“Out,” I said as he, gasping, knelt. “Go on. Out.”
He got to his knees and, wheezing, he left.
I went back in. Sat with Bethany on the couch.
“It’s okay,” I said at length. I kissed her forehead. “You’ll be okay. You’re safe.”
She nodded. She leaned against me. I held her close. We sat like that for a long time.
She sighed.
“I’m okay,” she said after a long time. She turned and looked at me. Her eyes were dry.
“Good,” I whispered.
“He went?”
“He’s gone,” I said softly. I leaned over and rested my arm on her shoulders.
“Good.” she sighed. “Rodney’s coming.”
“Good,” I agreed. We sat like that, with my head resting next to hers, arm enfolding her. I breathed in her fragrance and held her close. I could smell her and feel her warmth. I wanted her.
I sighed and she cuddled closer. I held her. She leaned on me.
“Kyle,” she whispered. She smiled up at me, laughing. “I want you,” she said.
I let out a sigh. My loins ached.
“I want you too,” I said. “But I should have coffee.”
“Coffee?” she gave me a big, lovely smile. “What a wonderful idea.”
I stood and, still feeling shaky, went through to the kitchen to put on some coffee. My ribs ached. My arm ached. I was fairly sure I was going to have an awful bruise on my head.
But I was so, so happy.
I was in love with Bethany. She seemed to be fond of me. And we trusted each other. In my world, everything was right.
Later, after the coffee, we kissed. She giggled and we leaned against each other.
“My mouth probably tastes awful,” she said.
“No,” I whispered. “No.”
I stood and put my arm around her and took her up to the bedroom.
I lay down on the bed with her and we hugged.
When Rodney and her Mom got back—Rodney in a fit of concern because he’d been late in traffic, her mom round half an hour later, she was still half-asleep.
I told them what had happened. Rodney wanted to get the legal weight on his side. I said no. Bethany wouldn’t want that. Her mom agreed.
Later, when Rodney had left and her mom was settled down, I went upstairs and held her.
“Would you like me to stay?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she said shakily, “I can go with you instead.”
I nodded. We went to my apartment.
I lay on my back beside her on the bed, my body utterly drained. I had been crying, unashamed. My cheeks were tracked with tears. I had come with her in a way I had never come with anyone. Amazing, unfettered. Liberated.
I turned and rolled over, looking at her. She was on her side, her beautiful profile just outlined in the warm orange-tinted glow of the bedside lamp. I smiled at her.
“Bethany,” I whispered softly. “I love you.”
She looked at me, her eyes huge. They were soft brown. They were kindled with love.
“I love you, Kyle. Utterly and completely.”
We kissed. I could taste the salt of tears and it could have been from either one of us. We were both crying.
Epilogue:
“Mom?”
She came slowly down the wooden stairs to join me. She walked hesitantly, her nerves still recovering. She looked older than her fifty-eight years. She was so beautiful. She smiled.
“Son,” she said.
I stared at her. I grinned. “Nice to see you.”
She nodded. She was quiet, my mom. Quiet and gentle. Just like I remembered. Her hair was gray now and hung down round her shoulders. She was so skinny. Her eyes were sunken. But they shone with pale brown light.
“Kyle, I am so happy to see you.”
“Mom.”
I embraced her. I was crying and I wasn’t ashamed. She felt like a bird when I held her against me. I loved her so much.
“So,” she said as she walked over the hard-packed earth and toward the bench under the tree, “you had a good time?”
“It was nice,” I agreed. “There’s a great view of the mountains back there, anyhow.”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
We sat at the bench. On my left, the mountain range rose, tall and majestic, scraping the sky. The land stretching toward it was barren, tinged with pink in the setting daylight.
We sat quietly. She was like that, my mom. A sense of peace was always around her—something she didn’t need to try and bring to a place, it just kind of followed her unsought.
“So,” she said after a while. “She’s happy here?”
I nodded. “You wouldn’t believe it,” I said. I was chuckling. “But yes.”
“Well,” mom raised her shoulders, shrugging. “It’s a nice place, hey? So beautiful. Look at that.”
She threw a hand out toward the mountains, a careless gesture. She was so graceful without trying. Her hands were bony, the joints big. I took one and held it.
“Mom,” I said. I couldn’t say fairer.
She chuckled.
“Son.”
We sat there and watched the setting sun make pictures of the trees, painting them in shadow on the earth.
I heard a footstep on the stone-strewn ground. I looked up. She was coming around the house slowly, her hat off, her hair loose around her body, shirt tugged by the soft air.
“There you are,” Bethany said. She smiled at me. “Sorry if I’m intruding.”
“No,” I shook my head.
“Bethany?” Mom called. She tried to turn her head a little to see her. Her joints are stiff. We’re learning about that, like we’re learning about so much out here. Like patience, and beauty, and trust. Especially trust. I thought I had learned all about that with Bethany, but Mom opened a whole new vista. Trust from me, and trust of me. She found that hard, too, at first. We are learning.
Bethany came to stand in front of her where she could see her properly. “Hi.”
Mom smiled. “Hi, Bethany. Had a nice time?”
“Yes! Thank you,” Bethany said gently. “It’s so beautiful here.”
“It is,” Mom agreed, nodding agreeably. “It is.”
Bethany stood until Mom shifted right and she sat down. We all sat on the bench together.
“Guys?” I whispered.
Mom patted my hand. Bethany laughed.
“What?” she said.
“I just wanted to say I love you both.”
My voice cracked. I meant it. With every fiber of my body, with every piece of my heart, I meant it. I loved Mom. And I loved Bethany. With them, my world was made beautiful, heartfelt, and whole.
Bethany smiled at me. “I love you so much,” she said softly.
Mom just smiled. She squeezed my hand. Then she took Bethany’s and patted it too.
“Well, you two? When’re you going to feel ready to go for a proper ride?”
Bethany was learning to ride—it was one of the things we had spent the morning doing. That, and overseeing cleaning the property next door. We were thinking of buying it. It was Bethany’s dream to start her own design studio. We were both considering a move. I wanted to start my own business too—I was thinking that something to do with tourism—maybe a bus—was a possible way forward.
Bethany laughed. “Hold on, Mom,” she said. “I’m still beginning.”
I smiled at her. “You’re very good,” I said.
She blushed.
Mom looked at me and looked at her. She squeezed my hand.
“I love you both,” she said.
My heart melted. Bethany smiled at me.
I knew, then, that my world was complete, and wonderful. I had come home. And home, I realized, throat tight with held back tears, was my heart. It had been inside me all along. Waiting for me to return to it.
The End