I would normally be happy to awaken to the sound of birds chirping outside—their presence a welcome sign that the harsh winter is over and there are warmer and easier days ahead—but this morning the charms of nature aren’t working on me. I’ve had trouble finding joy in much of anything since the event that occurred yesterday afternoon. My mind has been tortured by internal debate over whether what I did was right or wrong.
I’m not surprised to find the bed empty next to me this morning. Silas found only fitful rest in the long hours that we held each other before I finally managed to fall asleep last night. I expect he was out of bed at the first sign of the rising sun, likely outside working on some project to keep his mind off of our recent troubles. He has done a lot of that lately, and while I’d rather he spend that time with me and talk to me about what he’s thinking, I understand his desire to be alone.
Lying on my back in bed only serves to remind me of what happened yesterday, and I feel the sudden urge to get up and away from here, even though this isn’t the same bed in which my encounter with Joseph occurred. I quickly sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, taking only the briefest moment to collect myself before standing up. When I’m dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt, I somewhat reluctantly make my way downstairs.
I’ve tried to avoid thoughts of what my conversations and interactions will be like with Joseph and Jake after what I did. Opting to skip dinner last night helped me postpone my inevitable reunion with them. I wasn’t ready to face them. I’m still not ready, but I can’t hide away from them forever.
As I open the door at the bottom of the stairs and enter the hallway, I’m relieved to find that no one is there to greet me in the living room. I take comfort in the quiet house around me while I walk down the hall to the kitchen and find it empty, too.
The familiar aching feeling of hunger gnaws at my stomach, but I don’t feel up to eating anything right now. My mouth and throat are dry, though. I know I’m dehydrated and need to drink something despite my queasy stomach. Unlike our depleting non-perishable food stash, our water supply from the large pond nearby is still plentiful, and I take full advantage of it by grabbing a glass from the black cabinets and filling it with water from the sink faucet.
The sun looks exceptionally bright today as I glance out of the window above the sink and sip the water from my glass. It’s the perfect day to work on the garden, to prepare the soil for planting the seedlings that we’ve been growing inside the house. They will eventually provide fresh vegetables to keep us alive in the coming months.
My breath suddenly catches at the thought of Joseph’s seed planted inside me and how it might grow and develop. I can’t deny the guilt I feel at trying to create life with someone other than Silas, with someone who is practically family to me. It feels wrong, and I feel horrible about going behind my brother’s back to ask his partner to help me in this effort while keeping what we’ve done hidden from him.
I quickly set down my glass and grip the edge of the gray slate countertop to keep me steady as my heart rate rises to a panicked pace. Squeezing my eyes shut, I wish I could will away the conflicting thoughts plaguing my mind, but they only seem to consume me more.
Footsteps approach from the direction of the dining room behind me, and I know that regardless of whom they belong to, I need to pull my shit together and fast. With a quick deep breath, I resume an upright standing position and grab for the glass of water, putting it to my lips and downing a third of the glass in a few deep gulps.
“Hey,” Jake says casually behind me.
I turn and smile in response from behind the glass still pressed against my lips, taking a couple of final sips from the glass to prolong this interaction as long as possible. “Good morning,” I finally respond while setting down the glass.
“It’s almost afternoon, you know,” Jake teases while running a hand through his dark brown hair to sweep it back from his glistening forehead. He grabs a glass from farther down the counter and begins to fill it with water from the faucet. “Some of us have been hard at work already today.”
Grateful for Jake’s lighthearted start to this conversation, I give him the best scolding look a sister can give her younger brother. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Give me a break.”
“You missed dinner yesterday. Is everything okay?”
The test of my ability to keep a straight face and smooth voice while lying to my brother has officially begun. “Everything’s fine. I just haven’t been feeling well.”
Jake is about to press his glass of water to his lips, but stops and lowers his hand instead, his eyes widening slightly as if he’s truly taking me in for the first time in this conversation. “It’s not—” I watch him in confusion for a moment as he has trouble finding his words. “You’re not—”
Understanding comes quickly as I realize what he’s struggling to ask me. “No. God, no, I’m not pregnant yet.”
I expect to see relief flood my brother’s face, but he seems more disappointed instead. He nods at me, then takes an extended drink from his glass, leaving us both in silence for a long moment.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his tone laced with sympathy. “I know you’ve been trying for a while.”
A subdued smile is all I can manage in response. I haven’t talked much with Jake about my efforts to grow our family in this house tucked away in the mountains of Vermont, at least not since Silas and I told Joseph and Jake we wanted to have a baby almost a year ago and then we all had a full conversation about the pros and cons of it. On occasion since then, Jake has asked me if we’ve had any luck yet, but our conversations never extended beyond my negative response.
Jake takes another long drink from his glass before placing it on the counter and turning to face me with his hands on each of my shoulders. The concern on his face is replaced with a hopeful expression as he tells me quietly, “There’s no harm in continuing to try, right? Practice makes perfect.”
Now I have to laugh. This is such strange advice to receive from my brother.
I’m about to tell him this line of conversation is over when I’m interrupted by the sudden appearance of Joseph in the doorway from the dining room. He stops when he sees me and Jake standing together. He looks exhausted and appears uneasy about being here, as if he wants to turn right around and walk out of this room without a word.
Before he can do anything, though, Jake is already working his way across the kitchen to greet him. His hand finds the side of Joseph’s face, and he kisses him briefly on the lips.
“I missed the memo about sleeping in today,” Jake says jokingly to him.
Joseph’s troubled expression barely changes at his tease, prompting Jake to frown.
“Not you, too,” Jake complains with exasperation. “What’s going on with everyone today?”
In an effort to divert this latest course of conversation, I cling on to part of what Jake said and hope that I can use it to get myself out of this situation. “You’ve seen Silas? Where is he?”
Jake drags Joseph over to one of the barstools at the island in the middle of the kitchen and forces him to take a seat before he responds to me. “I saw him enter the garage earlier, but I haven’t seen him since. He looked particularly serious this morning.”
I sigh and glance at the back door of the kitchen that leads outside. “I’ll go check on him in a few.”
“Maybe you can cheer him up,” Jake suggests before locking eyes with Joseph. “In the meantime, I’ll work on this one.”
Joseph’s blank expression does finally transform into a smile at Jake’s comment, and for a moment it feels like some of the heaviness of the room has lifted.
Then Joseph finds my gaze, and when his smile fades, my expression falters.
“I should go,” I say quickly, barely getting the words out before the growing thickness in my throat makes it too difficult to speak. Without looking at Joseph or Jake, I make my way around the kitchen island and through the doorway into the dining room.