Page 24 of The Story of You


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Eternal. Fucking. Optimist. That was me.

Darius stayed with me for the night. Oliver finally stopped crying around three am, but he started again at six, which was technically the morning. I raced off to get him. My ass was sore and bruised. I’d take some Advil when I went downstairs but first—always first—Oliver.

His head turned when I entered and he stopped crying, smiling his toothless smile at me. “Hi, my babe.” I lifted him to me, my heart blooming with love. I wiped the tears from his face with my hand. Oliver was worth giving up Cliff for. He was worth giving up everything for and fighting like hell so he would have something special.

I took him down to the kitchen to get breakfast started. I left Darius to sleep. I felt so old, he still seemed so young even though he was “growing up” as rapidly as I was. I didn’t want him to miss out on growing hours. Oliver had passed out again, now that I was nearby, and I could set him in his baby bouncer while I worked. I was scrambling eggs when the hairs on the back of my neck tingled.

It was Father. Even with the bags under his eyes, he looked fresh. He’d just had a haircut. Father always looked best after a haircut. He’d shaved too and his bare face combined with the smell of his aftershave was inviting. You wanted to be part of his world. “Son. I’m sorry about last night. My temper. You know I have one. I was too harsh. I wish I could take it back.”

I nodded, stiffly. “It’s fine. It’s been hard for you.” I didn’t smile.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” he said.

I didn’t want him to see me cry but I was having so many feelings. I still loved him and idolized him, but I was beginning to wonder why. It hurts to stop idolizing someone. You find out they were either never whom you thought they were, or they’d changed into someone else. Either way, the someone you loved was gone. You mourn them like a death.

It takes time for your heart to catch up to your brain. You still have love pouring toward them, but it’s hard to pour love over thorns. It prickles and it stings. You think that if you love them enough it will bring the person you knew back, so you keep going until they’ve pulled all the light you ever had from you.

The other thoughts running around my skull were of me—what had I done to make him hate me? He still loved me, didn’t he? If he didn’t, why did he stop? What could I do to be more perfect for him?

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not trying to be any kind of way. I’ll do everything you ask. My place is here, helping the family.”

“Atta boy,” he said, and I relaxed. His tone soothed me. “I knew I could count on you. But it’s true, you need a night off. I’ll get Uncle Pax to come by.”

Uncle Pax. That brought me more relief than it should have. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be there to see him. I was told to make plans for a night out. It was unfair how Father was that night. He was himself again. Father took Oliver from me as I imagined he would have had he been himself all along.

“How’s my little guy? You gonna hang out with Uncle Paxxy tonight?” Father said.

Oliver smiled at him. I hated it.

Uncle Pax, Father’s identical twin, was a businessman. He flew internationally all month long. He wasn’t home a lot even though his home was only an hour’s drive from ours. He had no spouse and no children. I didn’t see him arrive or leave. All I had for proof was Darius who was smiling and refreshed. “Look what Uncle Pax brought me!” He’d been given a trove of candy.

“Put that away,” I told him. “You’re not eating all that in one go.”

“Spoilsport. Hey, you got something too,” he said.

In the bag was a card, it said something like, “I hope we can catch up some time, kiddo. Know I’m thinking of you.”

It felt nice to be called a “kiddo” like I was still a kid to someone. Maybe there was someone to take care of me when I was too tired. It used to be my parents—more often, Father. I pulled out what was inside, and my heart sunk. It was something I would have gone crazy for before: another rock concert “T”, but it was a crop top like the neon green one I used to have. I frowned and Darius noticed. I hadn’t told him my crazy theory. My theory didn’t have much support.

“Don’t you like it?” Darry asked.

“Of course, I do.”

“Then put it on,” he challenged.

He knew I was lying. Father was in the kitchen with a nightcap. We were on the couch in the living room. I glanced toward Father’s back and then to Darius. I reasoned that I didn’t actually know that it was my exposed mid-drift that had done anything, and I didn’t want to risk Darius on a runaway train with a runaway idea I had. I pulled off my shirt and replaced it with the new one from Uncle Pax.

Darius remained suspicious, but the act pacified him. I made the excuse of checking on Oliver and ran off before Father could see. I brought a sleeping Oliver to bed with me and didn’t remove the shirt until morning so Darius couldn’t accuse me of anything.

I wore it a few other random days to throw Darius off scent before I stuffed it into the back of my drawers forever.

* * *

Silas – Summer to Winter of 1984

Breaking things off with Cliff was easier than I thought it would be. Especially since while I told him we couldn’t be boyfriends, that didn’t stop us from making out at the swimming hole. It was warm that September. People met there after school. I was homeschooling myself while Oliver slept or while Mom held him. I’d pack up Oliver and snacks to retrieve Darius from the bus stop and take them to the swimming hole.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Dad about Cliff,” he said. “That was stupid before. I didn’t get it, but now I do.”