Twin Ties 2: Twin Affairs (24 page)

Brennan called Luka to tell him and Alek over speakerphone what had happened, what Evan had done, how he had stood up for himself and Brennan, too. Evan shivered from the night’s chill, shocked silent at what he had said to the man who’d been his world since he came into existence.

The call was short. Shocked but supportive as ever, Luka and Alek murmured words of encouragement and love, offering a safe haven if it was needed, but urging Evan to give his father a proper chance to make amends. With professions of love, they ended the call and promised to see Evan and Brennan in the morning, one way or another. The thick, enveloping black blanket of night fell once more as the phone was turned off, its glow extinguished, and slipped back into Brennan’s pocket.

The back door opened and a figure appeared silhouetted in light.

“Come in here before the mosquitoes make supper out of you two. Please. I didn’t come all this way to scare you out of the damn house.”

Evan’s feet carried him back inside. He heard Charlie apologizing to Brennan, and waited, standing there like a shell of a person—gutted and hollowed out. When his father’s arms wrapped around him, embracing him gently, Evan heard, “I love you. I love you just the way you are. I’m trying to atone for the past. I really am. Please, let me try. I know I can’t fix the way things were, the way you both grew up, but I can try to make things better now.”

You’re still screwed up
, a voice whispered insistently in Evan’s mind.
Everyone sees it. Charlie looks at you and all he sees is what’s wrong with you, just like how it was with Alek and Brennan when you got out of the hospital. You’re not a man, like them. You’re just a damaged delinquent, a pathetic, sick kid who needs real men to take care of him. You’re a burden to everyone who loves you.

The words still wouldn’t come. Only fat tears and embarrassing, aching whimpers and gasps, but the way Evan clung to his daddy like a scared little boy was absolution enough.

If Evan thought it was bad to find himself screaming at his father, raging with pure anger and shades of hatred in his heart, he was introduced to a whole new spectrum of pain the following morning when Brennan’s emotional devastation truly became evident.

That night, the pair of them slept closely, cuddled up to one another, seeking safety and shelter from the world in each other’s arms. Dawn shed light on their reality, showing Brennan all of the ways he had lost and everything he would never get back. The light of his life, his mother, had been ripped away from him, and Evan knew that in itself must have been excruciating, but then his faint hope of finding a connection with and receiving affection from his long-lost father was seemingly dashed by Charlie’s carelessly tossed out, cold-hearted words accusing Brennan of being the one to cause the problems in Evan’s life. More than that, Brennan was left in pieces when Charlie essentially spit on Maggie’s memory by attacking her mothering abilities. Dissolving into gut-wrenching sobs, once drained and thoroughly exhausted, Brennan fell unconscious only to wake an hour later to fresh tears and more pain.

The cycle repeated itself again. Brennan cried himself to sleep a second time and Evan stayed with him, not leaving his side for longer than it took to use the bathroom. The first time Evan ventured to the toilet, the other bedroom’s door was closed with Charlie inside. The next time, the room was empty. Charlie was in the kitchen and he left the house minutes later, closing the back door behind him, walking in the direction of Jimmy’s trailer.

Crawling back into bed and sliding under the covers, Evan’s movement finally roused Brennan for good. Opening his bloodshot, puffy-lidded eyes, Brennan’s gaze was like a plea to his brother to pull him from the abyss of sorrow in which he was drowning. The problem was there was no saving Brennan from his circumstances, or altering unchangeable things. Maggie wasn’t coming back. Neither of them would get to relive their childhoods with a complete nuclear family. Those years had passed them by and been used up. And there was a very good chance Charlie and Brennan would never get along or bond as a father and son should. Evan couldn’t do anything about those things.

But he could help Brennan in other ways. So he tried to, giving it his best shot, as pathetic as it might have been. Because seeing Brennan so forlorn was something Evan simply couldn’t bear.

As soon as full awareness hit Brennan, he curled in on himself further and hid his face against the pillow nestled under his head. His breath caught on a violent sob and his hands came up to cover his face when he realized Evan was looking at him.

“Don’t watch me cry,” he hiccupped. Evan noted Brennan wasn’t asking him to leave; he was just ashamed of being so emotionally naked and afraid of seeming ugly for it.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Brennan whined, exasperated. “It’s weird.”

“I know you are, but what am I,” Evan retorted softly, teasing him.

“Evan,” Brennan huffed, sniffling. He rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes, “It’s not funny. I finally meet my dad after dreaming of how it would be to have that moment since I was a little kid, wanting it to be perfect, you know? But it wasn’t. He
hates
me and insulted Mom right to my face. It sucks. Everything sucks.
I
suck.”

The words made Evan want to cry too. So, he tried to push it the opposite way, out of nothing but self-preservation and unconditional love for his brother.

“Well, it
is
a skill you possess. You’re a regular Hoover. It’s actually quite impressive, your sucking.”

“Stop,” Brennan whined, snorting once and trying not to laugh. “Stop being clever and cute.”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do about that,” Evan said solemnly. “Unfortunately, it’s a condition I was born with. You’re probably infected with it too.”

Brennan rolled onto his back, biting viciously at his quivering lower lip, his cheeks riddled with tear-stains. “He said it was my fault. He accused me like I’m a bad influence. And, I
am
. That’s the worst part. I
am
a bad influence. God, if he knew what I’ve really done to you, he’d do more than hate me. He’d
kill
me.”

“Hmm, berating yourself. Now you sound like me,” Evan said gently. “I think that counts as progress.”

Brennan made a soft, hurt sound and whispered, “I don’t want him to hate me. He’s the only dad I’ve got.”

Evan dug his fingernails into his palm so deeply he nearly broke the skin and clenched his jaw hard enough to make his teeth ache. He wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to magically vanquish all of the bad, hurtful things in Brennan’s world. But he couldn’t. Sighing deeply, he chose to keep attacking the horror of it all with humor and said, “Wow, you are really
so
emo in the morning. Maybe we should dye your hair black. You could wear it all pushed forward covering your eyes. And of course there would have to be guyliner.”

Brennan snorted with laughter, covering his mouth as soon as the sound was startled out of him. It was tear-choked and heartbreaking, but real—a small miracle. He turned and hugged Evan.

“Stop making me feel better,” he murmured. “It’s really annoying.”

“Fat chance, emo boy. Suck it up. You’re good at that.”

“
Evan
.”

“I love you, Bren.”

Brennan held Evan. He took another breath, trying to break through anguish to some sort of calm, and professed, “I love you, too.”

“How did it go?”

“Horrible. Or good. I don’t know,” Charlie sighed.

In his hands he cradled one of Jimmy’s chipped ceramic mugs, filled nearly to the brim with steaming hot coffee. Taking in his surroundings, familiar but sorely missed, Charlie enjoyed the stillness of morning in the rural wilderness of his old hometown. Seated next to Jimmy on a bench outside his trailer, Charlie felt the pull luring him back to his sons, but he needed to do this first, and clear the air. It was his confession, an attempt to lift some of the weight crushing him.

“The kid stood up to me, which is good, not to mention long overdue. But, Christ, the things he said. Not that they aren’t true or warranted. I haven’t been anywhere near the father he deserves, but I’ve done my best. And Brennan… Brennan reminds me of myself in a lot of ways. Tough as nails, that boy is. Not willing to take any shit. Keeps his eye on what he wants. Does his duty, even when it ain’t fair or easy to stomach. But even just being near him, seeing him—it reminds me of all the moments I should’ve had with him: his first step; his first words; his first day at school. I should’ve been there for all of it and I should’ve been there for Maggie. I should’ve stopped hiding behind my damn pride and seen her through to the end, no matter what. That was too much to lay on a boy.”

Jimmy sipped his own cup of coffee, saying nothing, knowing Charlie wasn’t saying these things to get a response.

“Evan told me about Alek. Wasn’t sure that he would,” Charlie muttered, thoughtfully.

“How about Luka?”

Charlie shook his head, “Nah. Brennan mentioned him, said they were boyfriends, but…. Man, I could beat their asses for what they’ve gotten themselves into.”

“Are you going to meet them? Alek and Luka?”

“Yeah,” Charlie grunted unhappily. “Probably this morning.” Glancing sideways at Jimmy, he added, “Which is why I’m over here to calm the hell down while I can. Prepare myself.”

But Jimmy was giving him a strange, foreboding look.

“What? Why?”

Jimmy shook his head, waved his hand to dismiss the questions. Over the phone, Charlie had gotten an abbreviated account of the complex situation with his sons, and the other set of brothers they’d been dating. He didn’t know much about what these other boys were like, specifically. The look on Jimmy’s face didn’t give Charlie a good feeling about it.

He asked Charlie, “Are you going to try to give them a chance? You should.”

“A chance to what? Violate my sons twenty different ways? Swap ‘em around between themselves like soulless pieces of meat?”

“So, that’s a no?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Charlie groaned. Slouching back against the bench, he stretched his legs and took a deep breath. “They seemed happy last night, before the argument. They did. Nervous, but happy. I don’t get to see Evan happy very much. And Brennan—he deserves all the happy he can get.”

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy sighed. “I truly am. This must be so hard for you. Does Evan know the extent of what you’re aware of? Or how long you’ve known about his orientation?”

“Nope. He thinks it was some big revelation last night, and I intend to keep it that way. I could be wrong, but I don’t think hearing his old man has known his son’s queer since before he started sprouting chin hair is gonna sit well with him.”

“Unfortunately, I agree with you.”

“Besides, I’ve gotta protect my informant. From what you say, things are strained enough between you and Evan without him knowing how much you ratted him out.”

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t honestly concerned about what could happen if I kept it to myself,” Jimmy grumbled.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Evan used to tell me everything. He would confide in me, and I miss that. I miss his friendship more, though. But if I have to let him push me away in order to keep him from hurting himself, then I’ll put my own feelings aside and do whatever I need to do.”

They were both quiet for a long while, stewing in their thoughts and drinking their hot, bitter brew.

“You know what the worst thing is?” Charlie asked.

“What?”

“I don’t regret keeping them apart for so long. Not if it was gonna turn out like this when they got together. But then maybe this is all happening because they’re overcompensating for the shit they went through due to being apart. The loss of affection of one of their parents and their brother. Maybe it’s all my fault. What do you say, Jimmy? Am I going to hell for this? For what I’ve driven my children to do?”

“Hard to say,” Jimmy said quietly and solemnly.

Charlie laughed coldly. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

Presley wandered out of Carter’s bedroom clad only in a pair of exercise shorts, his jaw covered with stubble and eyes bleary. Yawning, he wandered into the kitchen. Alek was leaning against the counter by the coffee pot. Carter was sitting at the kitchen table, pushing some runny eggs around his plate with a piece of toast.