10. Where Bear Shakes It All Out

IT WAS just after noon. I had come back to the hospital after going home and showering at the insistence of all around me, some of whom were able to joke that there was no way Otter was going to wake up if my smell chased him away. I didn’t think that was funny in the slightest. But rational thought and I had decided on that fourth day that we didn’t like each other in the slightest and that it would be best to part ways, at least for now. So I ran home and scrubbed myself in the shower under hot water until my skin was red, until the bathroom was choked with steam. I frantically checked my cell phone to make sure I hadn’t missed any phone calls. I hadn’t. I turned my phone off and then back on to make sure it was still working. It was.

I hurried back to the hospital, only to find that nothing had changed. Well, nothing that could be seen. The doctors told us that the swelling in Otter’s brain had gone down significantly, and that the plan was to send him through some diagnostic tests later that afternoon. They might have a better idea of any potential brain injury then, that the decrease in swelling was a good sign, that we should be excited at such a prospect. I couldn’t get excited. Not yet. Not until he opened his eyes. But I smiled with the rest of them, because I was the strong one. I told them all what great news that was, how relieved I felt. I hugged them in celebration. The rest came over from Mrs. Paquinn’s room and joined in the quiet victory.

I told them to go take a break. The Kid was at school, and I knew that he’d want to know, so I planned on calling the front office to see if they could pull him from class so I could talk to him for a moment, if he’d even take my call, given how angry he was that I’d made him go to class. Dominic had been invaluable in helping me with the Kid, and eventually he’d gone, grumbling, Anderson Cooper smiling off his backpack. I told him I would let him know once I knew anything further. He’d just scowled and walked away.

The others left, each of them touching Otter in some way, each of them touching me in some way. Alice was the last, and she leaned over and kissed her son on the forehead, and for some reason, this got to me like nothing I’d gone through in the past couple of days, and I had to fight to remember that I was the strong one, that I was the one in control. I smiled weakly at her when she kissed me in the same place, and when she walked out, I allowed a single tear to roll down my cheek. Any more and I would have broken.

I stayed strong.

It was only minutes later that my resolve was tested. I was in the middle of telling Otter that I’d decided he, the Kid, and I would take a trip once he got out of here, that maybe we could go to the mountains and get a cabin, or go to where the sea was warm and go snorkeling. Maybe skiing and sledding. Or to Disneyland. Or Disneyworld. Or someplace that he would be walking and talking around me, someplace where’d he’d say my name and make it sound like it meant something. I didn’t care where that would be, just as long as it happened.

A nurse walked in and changed everything. “Derrick?” she said quietly. “There’s a woman here to see you.”

I wondered briefly who it was, thinking maybe it was a representative from the auto insurance company, here to find out what was going on with Otter as I’d been ignoring their phone calls. “Who is it?” I asked, my voice rough as I started to rise.

“She says she’s… your mother? Julie McKenna?” I could understand reluctance, her hesitation. She’d heard part of our story, knew that the Kid was mine. This probably confused the hell out of her.

I sat back down. Hard. Unexpected, I thought.

Indeed , it replied, speaking for the first time in days. Do you remember what happened the last time she dropped by unannounced? You almost lost everything you had. Tell them to send her away. Tell them that you don’t have time to see her right now. You can’t be the strong Bear. Not all the time. Not now. You can’t handle this now. Tell them to make her leave, and we’ll worry about this another day.

I am strong .
I stood up. “Where is she?” I asked.
“In the waiting room,” she said, suddenly nervous.
“What?”

“Are… are you okay, Bear?” the nurse asked me, taking a step back. “You look… angry.”

I was surprised to find I was. I was the angriest I’d ever been. I realized that a red sheen had fallen over my vision and that my jaw was clenched, my hands in fists at my sides. If she’d come here to fuck with me, with us, if she’d come here to let me know she was going to fight the petition of custody, that she was going to tell me to end things with Otter because it was against her beliefs, that it was against God… well, she was going to find a whole different kind of animal in me. I didn’t give a shit about God. I didn’t give a flying fuck about her beliefs. I sure as hell didn’t care about her. As a matter of fact, I fucking hated her. I hated her with everything I could, a black and oily thing that curdled in my stomach and made it harder to walk out of the room.

I gripped Otter’s hand and leaned down and kissed him on the corner of his mouth, such a gentle kiss that it seemed to negate how my insides felt. “I’m strong,” I whispered to him, my lips still against his. “I’m strong and I will handle this. You… you need to wake up, Otter. Enough is enough, okay? It’s time for you to wake up. Come back.”

I was following the nurse before I could think further.

Well, at least she’s in the hospital already, it sighed. At least they’ll be able to treat her if you do what you plan on doing. Best place to attempt to commit matricide, I guess.

I ignored it because I was gone, at least for a moment, just enough time for me to remember when—

 

I REMEMBERED the last time I saw her before she left for good. I was seventeen—

 

almost eighteen birthday graduation oh my god it’s starting

—and I’d been getting ready for work. I’d been smiling more lately, catching my reflection in a mirror or window, seeing that smile, that grin, that knowing I had. I was about to be free. I was about to start my own life. I was about to go off and do whatever it was I’d always wanted to do. I worked my ass off to get to this point. I relied on no one but myself. I was going—

to leave the kid behind otter behind

—to finally be on my own, and I was excited and breathless. Scared out of my fucking mind, but nothing was going to stop me. Nothing was going to get in my way. Not Anna, who would watch me with those sad eyes of hers, telling me she’d hoped I never forget her, even though we were planning on staying together, both of us knowing somehow that those things don’t last. Not the Kid, who didn’t understand why he just couldn’t go with me. Not Creed, who was leaving anyways. Not Otter who….

Not Otter. It was easier to just think “not Otter.”

And most certainly not my mother. My mother, who scoffed at my plans, who told me she’d reserve judgment until I’d actually done something, until I actually followed through with my plans. “A writer?” she laughed. “No one makes any money being a writer, Bear. Jesus Christ, open your eyes. Not gonna happen.” I’d show her. I’d become what I wanted to be, become who I was, and she’d change her goddamn mind. She’d see I didn’t need her, that I never did. Once I graduated I was going to walk away and never look back. It was going to be all about me.

My birthday was the next day, and I graduated three days after that. I caught myself grinning again as I dressed for work. Only two more months, I told myself. Two more months, and you can even kiss the shitty job goodbye. Fuck the stupid grocery store, hello real world!

I walked into the kitchen, hearing the TV blare some documentary that the Kid had started getting into lately. I didn’t know why. He was just weird like that. I grabbed juice out of the fridge and was slightly startled when Mom walked in, fully dressed. It was eight in the morning. She was never up that early. And even stranger, she looked… aware. Like she knew what she was doing. Like she knew who she was. Like her brain wasn’t rattled in her head.

I felt brief unease.
“What are you doing up?” I asked her, not really caring for an answer. “Why not?” she asked. Then she smiled. She never smiled.

“Right,” I said, wondering to myself if I’d have enough time to stop and get something to eat as there was nothing in the fridge. I reminded myself to bring something home for the Kid. He’d probably be starving by tonight.

“Have to do some grocery shopping today,” she said, chuckling as she watched me. “I’ll make sure it gets done. Is the PIN number the same on the debit card?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know I haven’t changed it. Well, you’d know if you actually went grocery shopping.”

I expected a cold rebuttal, but she just laughed again, her eyes dancing. The unease I felt tried to morph into something more, but I shoved it away. I didn’t have time to deal with whatever she was on, which had to be the only explanation. “I gotta go to work,” I muttered at her, putting my cup in the sink. “Later.”

“Bear,” she said as I was about to walk out of the kitchen. I stopped, but didn’t look back. “What?”

“I think things are going to get better from here on out. Just wait. You’ll see. I promise that things will be better.”

I fought the urge to turn and snap at her. I almost lost. But then I remembered that I was almost out of here, that what she thought wouldn’t matter to me anymore, that she could never hold me back again. “Whatever,” I said and walked out of the kitchen without looking back. “Later, Kid,” I said as I stopped near the living room. “Careful, Mom’s off her meds today.”

“Hurray,” he grumbled, his eyes never leaving the TV.
“I’ll be home tonight and we’ll hang out, okay?”
“Promise?”
“Yeah, Kid. Promise.”
“Okay. Bye.”
And I left.

I came home that night and found two letters, one to myself, one to Tyson. She’d left $137.50 in an envelope.

 

After that… well. You know what happened after that.

JULIE MCKENNA sat in a plastic chair in the waiting room, her eyes darting

around nervously, her hands in her lap on top of a brown file folder. I felt a stutter in my step when I first saw her, and even though nothing much had changed about her appearance in the past few months, everything had changed about how I looked at her. Hurt and betrayal had been replaced by hatred and rage, and I did nothing to keep it from my eyes. My body was tense and tight, my hands in fists at my sides. I wondered briefly what would happen if I just punched her in the face. I’m sure I would have felt better, at least for a moment.

She finally saw me walking toward her, and I watched as she flinched away, almost cowering in her seat. She looked around as she licked her lips, as if making sure there’d be witnesses in case I did anything. She didn’t know that I was beyond caring. Let the people watch. Let them try and stop me. A person could do so much damage in the space of a few seconds if he was properly motivated.

The nurse hesitated for a moment before she turned and left us alone. My mother looked up at me nervously, and I knew she was waiting for me to take a seat. I didn’t sit. I glared at her.

Finally, she could no longer take the silence. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now,” she said, her voice wavering.

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I said coldly. “It’s taking all I have to not reach over and put my hands around your neck and squeeze the ever-fucking life out of you.”

Her eyes bulged. She looked around again. “Derrick—”

I leaned forward. “No one’s here to help you. Stop looking like you’re going to get rescued. If I wanted to do it, it would only take me a few seconds. Not enough time for anyone to stop me. Remember that. What the fuck do you want?”

Her voice is ragged. “I heard about Oliver and….”

 

“Really? And how did you hear that? How the fuck could you know anything about our lives?”

 

She wrung her hands in her lap. “If you could just understand—”

I shook my head once. “The time to understand is done. I no longer want to understand anything about you. The only thing I want in this world from you is for you to get up, walk away, and never look back. When you’re gone, you stay gone. You never contact me, you sure as shit never attempt to contact Tyson. I swear on all that I have if you’re here to tell me you’re fighting me for custody, I will make sure it’s brought out exactly what kind of mother you are. See how long you hold on to your daughter when I’m done with you.”

She looked terrified. “You wouldn’t,” she whispered. “I know you. You’re my son. You wouldn’t do something like that.”

I narrowed my eyes and sneered at her. “I would. If you try and take from me, I will take everything from you. You’re done trying to fuck with my family. The man I love is in there fighting for his life, and I’m no longer playing nice. I’m the strong one now. I am not your son. Tyson is not your son. You are nothing to us.” My voice wanted to break on this last, but I didn’t allow it.
“How is Oliver?” she asked, averting her eyes.

“None of your business. What do you want?”
“Bear, I—”

“Unless you answer the question, this is over. Last chance. I have better things to be doing than talking to a cunt like you. What do you want?”

Her hands trembled as she reached for the folder in her lap. She picked it up and handed it over to me. Her fingers touched mine as I took it from her, and she gasped quietly at the contact, but I ignored it. It didn’t matter. There was a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, one that I knew would explode once I opened the folder. Everything was already collapsing around me. What was one more aftershock?

I opened the folder and didn’t understand.

“What is this?” I snapped at her, my eyes unable to translate the legalese in front of me. I wanted to go back to Otter and curl up next to him and forget about everything while I waited for him to wake up.

“I’m relinquishing custody of Tyson,” she said quietly. “I’m giving up my rights.”

I was sure I’d misheard her. I was sure that it couldn’t be true. She’d come back again and that only meant one thing: that she would try and take from me, that she would try and break me down. My hatred warred with rationality, and I couldn’t believe either side. I couldn’t make sense of which was right. I tried to read over the words in front of me, but I couldn’t string them together coherently. It can’t be this easy, I thought. It can’t. She’s made my life miserable anyway she can. It can’t be this easy.

Careful, Bear, it whispered. Even if it’s true, you don’t know what the cost will be.

 

“What do you want from me?” I asked harshly, not sure I was still in control. I’m the strong one. I have to be the strong one.

 

She shook her head. “Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.” “Then that’s it? This… you just give up? I don’t fucking buy it. What do you get out of this?”

 

“Nothing,” she breathed. “I get nothing. I lose almost everything I love. I lose my sons. I lose you.”

“You lost us years ago. You lost us when you walked away. And now you have a daughter. A family. You have something that you had already given up. But you know what? So do we. We have a family. We have people that love us, that would die for us. We may be broken, we may be hurting, but you will never destroy us.” My eyes started to burn and my voice was like gravel, but I didn’t care. I knew, in my heart, that this would be the last time I would see my mother. That if what she’d given me was correct, that if she had signed over custody, then I would watch her walk away, and that would be it. It would be the end. And I still had questions.

“I know that,” she said, tears in her eyes. And wonder of all wonders, she looked like she meant it.

“If this is real, if you’re giving me Tyson, then you know you can never have contact with him again. If you do this, I will not allow you to see him again.” It almost sounded like I was giving her a way out, and while part of me was screaming for me to shut my mouth (why did I never shut my mouth?), the other, more feral part was gauging her sincerity, to make sure what she told me was truth.

She closed her eyes. “I know that too.”

“How?” I asked before I could stop myself. “How did you know about me and Otter? How did you know about San Diego? How did you know we were here?

“Bear, just let it go.” She was resigned, because she knew I wouldn’t. “Tell me!”
“What would it change?”
The anger came flooding back. “Tell. Me.”

She glanced down the hallway as if gauging how far she’d make it toward the doors before I tackled her. She wouldn’t make if far. I’d tear her apart piece by piece. Even though she said she was giving Ty to me, I didn’t trust her at all. I wouldn’t believe it to be true until I knew that no one could take the Kid away from me again. But then she said the one name I didn’t expect to hear, the one name I would never have guessed in a million years, and when I heard it, it became so furiously obvious that at first I thought it a joke.

She wasn’t joking. “Jonah Echols,” she said.
Jonah fucking Echols.

Ooooh, twist! it laughed. Didn’t see that coming, did you? Jesus, Bear, it’s so fucking obvious, and you’re just now figuring it out? Sometimes I wonder how you have such a narrow view of things. Christ, what else have you missed?

“ Jonah?” I said incredulously. “Otter’s ex?”
A tremulous “Yes.”
“Bullshit.”
A firm “No.” A sigh. “He had a detective friend of his track me down.” “Bullshit.”

“He found Frank first. He spoke with Frank and told him he would pay for our help. That he was pissed and wanted Oliver back and that he would pay if we could help him. He saw you, you know. One time. He said he came up here to speak with Otter, not long after Oliver left. He came to the Thompsons’ house and saw you two. Saw Tyson with you. Saw the way Oliver looked at you. He said he knew. He said he knew that the only way he could ever hope to get him back is if you two ended things.”

I was seething. “Bullshit,” I snarled. “Nobody’s that fucked up. Nobody’s that fucking melodramatic to think that they could pay someone off to break people up. That’s ridiculous. Tell me the truth.”

Her eyes flashed, almost in anger. “Frank thought it would be a good way to get some money,” she snapped at me. “The hospital bills from Isabelle were expensive, because there were complications from the birth. We were in debt, and Frank saw it as a way out. He said it was a good idea. And when Frank says to do something, I do it.”

I was shocked. “You’re being serious, aren’t you. You’re completely serious?”

She nodded, almost looking relieved that I seemed to get it. “How much?”
My mother flinched again. “Bear, that doesn’t—”
“How much?”
She looked away. “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

That’s a lot , I thought randomly at first. I tried to think if I’d ever seen that much money anywhere before and came up empty. But this was a defense mechanism that my brain tried to play, and when it hit me, when I realized what exactly she was paid for, what she was paid to do, the amount seemed inconsequential. It seemed like nothing. It was nothing.

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You were paid twenty-five grand to come back to Seafare and attempt to break Otter and me up? And this money was paid to you by Jonah Echols?”

“Yes.”
“And you agreed to this?”

“Bear, I had a daughter to think about. I didn’t ask for her, but I wasn’t going to let her suffer just because I made mistakes.”

I snorted derisively. “That’s you, Mom of the Year.” I wondered if it would be considered premeditated if I got onto a plane with the sole intention of maiming Jonah Echols.

She looks offended. “Derrick, I know I’m not the best—”

 

“Shut up,” I said tiredly. “God, for once in your life, shut your fucking mouth and let me think.”

 

She did. It pained her, yes, but she didn’t speak.

 

Finally, I said, “That religion thing. How you said the Bible says and God says. Think of that all on your own?”

She shook her head slowly. “Jonah told me what I should say. You know I’ve never read the Bible. Church bores me. Who cares what a bunch of dead guys wrote millions of years ago?”

“Who cares,” I echoed, unable to keep myself from sounding like it was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard. “And you never had any intention of taking Tyson with you?”

She shrugged. “Frank wouldn’t have liked another kid in the house. He’s already having a hard-enough time with Izzie as it is. She’s a happy baby, Der. You’d like her, I think.”

“What happens when he tells you to ditch her too? You gonna leave her somewhere by herself? Gonna walk away like she doesn’t even matter? Maybe a letter will let her know that you’re sorry, but it’s for the best. Is that what you’re going to do?”

Julie McKenna said nothing in return. She looked down at her fingers and started to pick at the chipped red nail polish on her thumb.

I was done. I held my future in my hands as I stared at my past. I took a step toward her. “You know,” I said bitterly, “you almost won. You almost destroyed me. You almost destroyed the Kid. You almost took Otter from me. But you didn’t. In the end, you didn’t win. You want to know why, Mom? You want to know why you didn’t win?”

She said nothing.

I crouched down before her and took her hand in mine, ignoring how she tried to pull it away. I squeezed, not hard enough to hurt, not hard enough to leave bruises, but hard enough to get her attention. “You didn’t win,” I said, “because we don’t belong to you. You didn’t win because you have no part in who we are. Our family made us. My brothers made me who I am. They may not all be blood, but it doesn’t matter. They’re mine. And you will never take them away from me.” I tightened my grip before I stood up and stepped away.

“Don’t come back here,” I said quietly. “Maybe Ty will want to find you one day. That’s his choice. Maybe our sister will want to know us, if you tell her about us. That’s her choice. But don’t you come back here. You’ve done enough.” I looked at her once more, trying to remember anything good. I couldn’t find a thing.

I turned and walked away. Or, at least I tried.
“Derrick,” she called out, her voice broken.
Against my better judgment, I stopped. I didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry about Oliver,” she said. She almost sounded like she meant it.

“How did you hear about him?”
“It… it was on the news? You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”

“The guy who hit him was drunk. There… his daughter was in the car. She died.”

 

I nodded.

“I agreed to give you Tyson,” she said, her words rushed, “because I couldn’t stop thinking about that little girl. I stared at the court papers, thinking about the girl and wondering what would have happened if it was Tyson. I didn’t know if that… if that power of attorney I gave you for your birthday would have been enough to take care of him, should he be hurt. I didn’t know how you’d survived this long. I thought this would make things easier. I thought that you’d understand, maybe even—”

“Don’t.”
“But—”

I whirled around, and my eyes felt like fire, and I burned. My jaw twitched as I repeated, “Don’t.”

She nodded. And stood. And watched me for a moment. What went through her head then, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever know. I don’t think I’ll ever care. It doesn’t matter. Out of everything, it mattered the least. And then she walked away.

I was back in Otter’s room before I even realized I was running. He looked the same. I took up my post next to his bed, his hand in mine, the wedding ring flashing in the light. “Enough,” I whispered harshly. “Enough. I don’t want to be strong anymore. I need you. Wake up, goddamn you. Wake up. Wake up.”

Wake up.

 

I want you to be mine, can’t you see?

THE fifth and the sixth days were the hardest. The fifth and the sixth days were the hardest because I kept my mother to myself. I didn’t tell anyone about her visit, nor did I show anyone the custody paperwork she’d brought to me. I found the nurse and told her in a rough voice that she was to keep what she saw to herself. She nodded, her eyes wide.

Those two days were the hardest because Otter didn’t wake up. Those two days were the hardest because Mrs. Paquinn continued to waste away, the shunt in her skull relieving the pressure but not enough to make a difference. I could see the veins, pronounced in her arms. Her skin was white. The doctors didn’t think she’d be able to breathe on her own, and they left her on the respirator. They told us that we should be prepared. They told us that we should start saying our good-byes.

They told me privately that if it came down to it, I would need to decide to take her off life support. That decision buried me under an ocean so vast it couldn’t be real. Aftershocks built in strength, and I trembled, I quaked.

Every day after school, the Kid would walk in with whoever had picked him up that day, knowing I couldn’t leave, that I wouldn’t leave. He watched me with quiet eyes, his anger faded, his lips in a thin line across his face. Every day he came was the same. He’d find me in Otter or Mrs. Paquinn’s room. He’d watch me from the doorway for a few moments. He’d walk in and push my hand out of my lap and crawl up and wrap his arms around my neck. He’d take my arm and bring up my fingers and press them against his chest. I’d feel his heartbeat. It was strong. It was alive. He’d whisper soft things in my ear, reassurances that sounded real coming from him. He’d feel me start to shake, and he’d wrap his other arm around my neck and pull my head down and allow me to lose myself against his shoulder, against his neck. I didn’t grieve around anyone except for him. Around the others, it would seem like I was weak. Around the others, it wouldn’t seem like I was strong enough.

But him. Around him, I could let it out.

Doctors came and went. Nurses came and went. Friends and family came and went. Erica Sharp, to whom I quietly handed the custody paperwork, came, her eyes going wide as she flipped through it, questions unanswered as I walked away. Jordan and the bar gang showed up and stood quietly around me and Otter, not saying much. David Trent looked lost, but composed himself after he caught me watching him and told me not to worry about Tyson at school. That the faculty knew what had happened and were making allowances for the Kid. I nodded once and looked away.

I hadn’t spoken much since my mother left. I didn’t know what else there was to say. Life had entered into a stasis, and everything stood still. I began to hate the white walls that surrounded me, the rooms that held my family. I knew the doctors and nurses by name, and their faces began to irritate me. They looked at me with such sadness, such pity, and I wanted them gone. I’d become a fixture in those two rooms. I cleaned myself in the bathroom sink. I wore the clothes that were brought to me from the Green Monstrosity. I picked at the food that was put in front of me. I was dazed. Lost, confused. Something had to happen.

On the evening of the sixth day, Creed, Anna, and Isaiah appeared in Otter’s doorway, determined and seemingly united. I ignored them until it became impossible.

“What?” I growled at them.

“Bear, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Creed said, sounding upset. “You need to step away for a little bit. Get some air. You’re killing yourself being here. It’s killing you, Papa Bear.”

I shook my head. “Can’t leave. If something happens and I’m not here, I’ll never forgive myself. And I’d never forgive anyone who made me walk away.” This last came out like the threat it was meant to be.

Anna tried then. “Just a walk around the hospital,” she said gently, reaching out to stroke my arm. “Just for a few minutes. You can’t keep this up, Bear. Not if you want to stay in control.”

“I am in control,” I told them, even though they looked like they didn’t believe me. “I’m strong. I’m the strong one.”

Isaiah hunkered down at my side while Creed stared down at his brother. “Bear, I’ll stay here with him. Let Creed and Anna take you out for a bit. Keep your phone on you, and if anything changes, I’ll call you right away, okay?”

Something struck me as wrong. “Where’s the Kid?” I snapped at them. “The Kid was supposed to be with one of you. And who’s with Mrs. Paquinn? Did you just fucking leave her alone? You know she doesn’t like to be alone at night. Why isn’t anyone with her?” My chest started to heave.

“The Kid is with my parents and Dominic at the Green Monstrosity,” Anna said, trying to soothe me by brushing her hands through my hair. “And Alice and Jerry are with Mrs. Paquinn.”

“You know,” Creed said, still watching his brother, “you’re not the only one hurting here, Bear. You’re not the only one who’s breaking.” His words were quiet, his voice harsh. “You’re not the only one who stands to lose. Otter is my brother. Mrs. Paquinn is my friend. We all care about them, we all love them, so this isn’t just you. It’s never just you. You need to stop taking everything on. It’s what you always do. You can’t always be the strong one. You need to learn that this is about all of us.”

His words. His words were so like his brother’s the day he’d brought me to our new house for the first time. His words, while not exactly like Otter’s, carried the same cadence, the same lilt to the syllables. I looked up at him and saw the faded gold in green as he glanced at me. I couldn’t say no to that. Not when he looked so much like his brother that I felt torn apart.

“Five minutes,” I agreed against my better judgment.
They all looked relieved.

It was cold outside, a light mist falling, illuminated by the light posts in the parking lot. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up and over my head, the ring on my left hand scraping the shell of my ear. Anna was on my left, Creed on my right. Anna put her arm through mine, and after a moment, Creed did the same. We walked up and down the parking lot aisles, first one, then another, and then a third.

Finally: “I told Creed,” Anna said.

 

Fuck. I’d forgotten. With everything else, I’d forgotten. I was such an asshole. “Yeah?” was all I could think of to say.

 

“Yeah,” Creed sighed. “Kind of a clusterfuck, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Everything at once. We don’t do anything halfway, do we?”

 

Anna surprised me with a short bark of laughter. “No, we sure don’t.” We walked on. Then, “What are you guys going to do?”

Creed tensed next to me, but then so did Anna, so I stayed quiet. “Whatever we can,” Creed said. “It’s our responsibility. They’re my responsibility. I’m going to make sure that they’ll never want for anything.”

We stopped in the furthest corner of the parking lot, away from the hospital and people, away from the cars and lights. The rain started beating steadily on my hoodie. I stepped out of their grasps and took two steps forward, raising my face toward the sky, the cold rain trickling down my cheek, my mouth. I stuck out my tongue and caught a drop and sucked it in. It tasted like the ocean, salty and bitter. “Is that what you want?” I asked them, still watching the night.

“Yes,” Anna said. “It’s what we want.”

“I’m going to take the rest of the semester off,” Creed said, from somewhere to my right. “I’ll transfer to the U of O in Eugene. It’ll be closer, and I can commute, if necessary.”

“Have you told your parents?”

 

Hesitation. Then, “No,” Anna said. “We were going to wait to see… to see what happened here. It matters more. They matter more right now.”

Did they? I wanted to believe they did, that selfish part of me screaming of course they did, of course Otter and Mrs. Paquinn meant more. That dark voice went even deeper, whispering only Otter mattered. That if I had to choose, I would always pick him. He was the one that needed to wake up. He was the one I wanted.

She’s old , it told me. She’s lived a good life. But what about Otter? He’s so young. He’s got so much more to give. You lose her, it’ll crush you and chafe like mad, but if you lose him? If you lose him, you’ll lose everything.

I pushed it away before I could study it further. I pushed it away because I knew it was right and that I was damned.

 

“No,” I said, feeling my gorge rise like liquid heat. “No. It all matters. Every piece of it. Every part of it.”

 

Liar, it whispered.

I felt Creed’s hand drop on my shoulder. “You know we’ll get through this, right? You know that no matter what happens, we’ll still be here? This changes nothing.”

I couldn’t find it in my heart to correct him. “Sure,” I said. “And that kid of yours is going to have the best fucking family. We’ll make sure he knows every day for the rest of his life that he matters. He’ll never want for anything because we’ll give him everything. You’ll see. Otter will love him like he belongs to him, and Mrs. Paquinn will tell him things about UFOs and will teach him how to drive. Your parents will be the happiest fucking grandparents that ever lived. The Kid and Dominic will be his big brothers, and they’ll teach him everything you taught me. And you two….” I sighed. “You two will love him like he was the most awesome thing in the world. Because he will be.”

Anna cried quietly. “And what about you?” she asked. “What will you do?”

“Me?” That was easy. “I’ll make sure he knows that it doesn’t always matter where you come from. That even though we’re not blood, it doesn’t matter. He’ll belong to all of us, and we’ll belong to him.”

Anna launched herself at me and crashed into my arms. It was so familiar, her smell so much like home that I felt the ground roll gently beneath my feet. I put my forehead against hers and felt Creed press his head against ours, and we breathed each other in. “Him, huh?” Anna wept. “Already know it’s a boy?”

I laughed, for the first time in days. “You’ll see.”

THATnight, the sixth night, I held Otter’s hand as the hospital grew quiet around us. I rubbed my thumb over his hand. I told him quietly how he was going to be an uncle, how I was surprised how quickly Creed had seemed to accept his place, how strong our Anna was. I told him that Mrs. Paquinn wasn’t doing so well, that I didn’t know how much longer she would last. I told him about his friends that’d come to see him, how Beer Me had stroked his face just once and had turned and walked out of the room. I told him how his parents looked so much older than they should. I told him how the Kid was putting on a brave face for me. I told him about my plans for our lives, how one day, we would look back on this moment with passing wonder, remembering how sad it all seemed to be, our memories unable to hold onto the sheer horror of it all.

I told him that we would grow old together, that I’d be there to make fun of him when he started to get fat and bald, when he’d get spots on his hands. I told him we’d build a little house by the beach, and we’d sit on the porch wrapped up in a blanket and that the world would pass us by and that it was okay. It was okay because we’d have lived it all already. We’d have seen everything there was to see and that we’d be content to just sit and watch. I’d feel his hand in mine just like it was now, and our rings would scrape together, faded and scratched from the toil of years. I’d look up into his eyes and while the rest might fade, the gold and green would be as bright as it’d always been, and it would be mine. It would be for me.

I laid my head down on his arm and watched him sleep.
Eventually, I was gone too.
That’s why I’m down, down on my knee!

ON THE seventh day, when he would normally rest, God finally made his decision.

 

It may not yet be legal, but it’s better than eating a beagle, so won’t you please marry me?