Page 49 of The Embrace of Evergreen
Footsteps shuffling down the hallway pull my attention away from my words, and we all turn our heads in time to see Ethan pop out from around the corner.
“Oh. Hi, guys.” He’s clearly trying his best as he walks toward us and snuggles under my arm, but his voice trembles just a little.
“Do you want to come in?” His fingers are digging into my back, but he’s trying so hard, and I’m so very proud of him.
“No, thank you.” Namid smiles kindly. “We were just telling Blue that we need to go home for a while.”
Ethan just nods.
“We’d like to see you again, though, if you’re open to that.”
Ethan nods again. “Ya. I’d…I’d like that. Maybe we can have dinner sometime?”
“We’d love that. I’d really like to get to know you; you’re my family after all.” Namid’s voice is strong and steady, but his eyes are starting to glisten, and nothing about him seems like he’s just being polite. I think he really does want Ethan to be his family.
“We’ll be back in the city in six weeks to meet with Max about exhibiting some more of Jayce’s work. If you’re feeling up to it, maybe that would work?”
There is something about Namid that feels comforting. He’s gentle and quiet, and his hopeful expression is slowly melting the tension in Ethan’s shoulders.
“Ya, that…that would be good. Do you think…” Ethan pauses to take a deep shuddering inhale. “Do you think my dad would come too? I mean, I know it’s been such a long time, and he probably doesn’t want to come. We haven’t even talked on the phone in years, and I…”
“Ethan.” Namid reaches out to rest his hand on Ethan’s arm. “He’ll come.”
Ethan chokes out a sob, and his arm tightens around my waist. “He doesn’t have to. I mean…”
“Oh, Ethan…” Namid cuts him off again. “He loves you. He loves you so much. He hasn’t talked about you a lot over the years, but he doesn’t talk much about your mom either. It’s just how he’s learned to make it through. Your pictures have always lived on the mantle and his nightstand though. They still do. They were the first things he put up after we moved, and every time he looks at them, he’s filled with so much love and so much longing. He wants to have you back more than anything.”
“How do you…I mean, you can’t possibly…He’s said that?”
Namid smiles and shakes his head. “Not in so many words, but I know it’s true. You’re just going to have to believe me with this one. I know you’re drowning right now. I know how overwhelming your grief feels, but there is so much love surrounding you, Ethan. Blue and your dad and your friends, even me and Jayce. I know it’s not always easy to accept that others love us for who wereally are.” He turns quickly to glance up at Jayce, who brushes a kiss against Namid’s forehead. “But it exists, and it is surrounding you. All you have to do is hold onto it, and it will pull you through.”
Namid squeezes Ethan’s arm before letting his hand fall away. “We’ll see you in six weeks for dinner, okay? All of us.”
Ethan just nods, but even that is a huge step for him right now.
It’s not an easy six weeks. Ethan still spends more time than not curled up in sweats on the couch, but even that is an improvement to crying in bed alone. Some days are better than others, with small smiles and moments of shaky, tentative laughter sneaking in. Some days are filled with nothing but anguish. He lets me hold him when he cries, and he’s started to eat a bit more regularly. He’s even been to the gallery to work a handful of times. With Ethan away, the merger timeline has slipped a bit, but whenever he speaks to Max, she’s always quick to assure him that it’s not a big deal. The more time passes, the more it bothers him, though, and his anxiety is slowly but surely pushing him back to work. The fact that he’s going to see his dad for the first time in more than a decade is doing the same thing. The closer we get to the Saturday night that we’ve scheduled dinner, the more nervous he gets. Normally, I’d do my best to convince him that it’s not something he needs to be nervous about, but the more he focuses on the present, the less time he spends thinking about the losses of the past.
Ethan is a mess, and it’s adorable. By the time there’s a knock at the door, he’s showered twice, managed to burn pasta somehow, panic-dusted the tops of the light fixtures, and refolded the throw blanket on the back of the sofa at least thirty times. I’ve helped him restart new pasta, interrupted him in the shower to distract him with my tongue for a good twenty minutes, and wrapped him up tightly in my arms to nip at his ear when he picked the dust rag up and glared at the bookshelves like they were his mortal enemy. He’s snipped at me for my interruptions, kissed me until we had to force ourselves apart to catch our breath, and thanked me over and over for trying to calm him down. He doesn’t have to thank me, but I let him anyway before hugging him tightly to my chest and telling him once more that I love him.
Ethan jumps with a startled squeak at the sound of their knock. He looks close to hyperventilating, but he steadies himself with a long, deep breath, slips his hand into mine, and pulls me with him toward the door. When he pulls it open, time simply stops existing. Namid and Jayce are standing slightly behind an older man with salt-and-pepper hair who looks startlingly similar to Ethan. Even though the man has to be in his early sixties, he stillhas the same broad shoulders as Ethan, and the strands of hair that aren’t white are the same dark auburn. His eyes are the same stunning emerald green, and they’re filled with hope and wonder and fear as they glisten with unshed tears.
“Ethan.” The man’s voice is deep and harsh, and I’ve never heard a single word filled with so much emotion in my life.
Ethan chokes out a sob, and then they’re both moving and crushing one another in an embrace filled with more than a decade of longing and regret and love and hope.
Watching them reunite is like watching two people find long-missing pieces of their souls, and it feels almost intrusive to stand here infringing on such a private moment. I must not be alone in wanting to give them some time to themselves because the moment I turn away, Jayce and Namid step carefully past them to follow me out of the room. As we cluster in the kitchen, Namid’s unusual indigo eyes glisten with unshed tears, and Jayce holds him close.
“They never stopped loving each other; they just lost their way for a moment.”
He doesn’t say it like it’s something he hopes is true. He says it like it’s a fact. I haven’t spent much time with them, but it’s clear that the level of emotional empathy Namid mentioned he has is a gift that not manypeople possess. I don’t question his statement, not only because of his talent but because it’s clearly obvious how much Ethan and his dad missed another, how much they still want to be a family.
When they finally join us, their eyes are red, but they’re smiling so wide that their cheeks might hurt by the end of the night if they keep it up for long. When I extend my hand to Ethan’s dad to introduce myself, he clasps it tightly and pulls me into a long hug instead. His eyes are filled with tears again when he finally backs away.
“Thank you.”
“What in the world for?” I have no idea what this man should be thanking me for.
“For caring for my son when he was alone. For loving him.” His voice is shaky and quiet, but I’ve never heard a more sincere thank you in my life.
