What He Doesn't Know(21)

I chuckled, kicking my feet up on the cushion in front of me. "Always. Tell me everything. How have you been? How's Christina?"

"I've been fine, and other than having to deal with my annoying ass, Christina seems to be surviving, too."

"Barely, I'm sure."

"Oh, she's just skating by," Graham agreed. "How's school?"

"It's good," I said, eyes trailing over the books lining my shelves.  "There's a new teacher in town, which I'm sure you've heard about."

"I did! He called me after the night he had dinner with you guys at Mom  and Dad's. That's so crazy that he's back in Mount Lebanon." Graham  paused. "Never thought I'd see that day."

"That makes two of us."

"Is he …  is he okay? I mean, does he seem any different? Since everything happened?"

There were so many loaded questions behind the ones he asked, and for  the first time since I left school Friday afternoon, I was forced to  think about the one person I was trying not to.

Avoiding Reese had been easy when I'd just stayed home from school, but  once I was back, it was impossible. I could still close my eyes and feel  his hand on my elbow, see his eyes begging mine not to push him away.

But I'd spent all weekend with Cameron, and then the rest of the week  with myself, reconnecting and dissecting every single thought and  feeling. All of that led back to the fact that I couldn't be close with  Reese - not without feeling like I was doing something wrong. Besides,  Cameron and I had talked that Saturday morning after happy hour, had  agreed to spend more time together and work on getting back to the way  we used to be.

Before.

Graham asking me if Reese was okay almost made me laugh, because the  answer was too complicated to convey in one word. The truth was, I  wasn't really sure if he was okay - with being back in Mount Lebanon,  with the loss of his family, with starting his new job.

With me.

It felt dangerous to be his friend, and so I hadn't been. I'd let him in  just marginally before I'd slammed the door again, putting that wall  between us.

"He seems fine," I lied to my brother after a long pause. "You know  Reese. He's drowning half his sorrows in beer and cigarettes, the other  half in long piano tutoring sessions after school."

"A little different from the old way he used to drown sorrows at the  piano," Graham noted. "I was surprised when I talked to him that you  hadn't been over there to listen to him play at his place. You were  always listening to him when we were younger."

"I was a bored pre-teen," I lied again. Each lie came easier than the  first, it seemed. "But I have watched him after school a few times. He's  actually pretty good with the kids."

"That's just so weird to me. I can't imagine my old best friend being a good influence on any kind of child."

I chuckled. "It's weird, for sure, but he does a great job."

My stomach turned again at the thought of Reese. I realized I never  asked him if he was okay after our night out last weekend, if he had any  questions or thoughts plaguing him the way I did. But it didn't seem  safe to ask, as if I already knew the answer.

Distance. That was my solution to everything I'd felt since he came back into town.

Graham and I talked for over an hour, catching up on Christina's dental  practice as well as his new place of employment. He was a computer  engineer, garnering his intelligence from Dad, no doubt. When he was in  Pennsylvania, he'd worked for a private computer systems company, but  now he was in a government position. Listening to him tell me the  details of it made about as much sense as the time Cameron tried to give  me a solid understanding of hockey, but it was nice just to hear about  that part of his life.                       
       
           


///
       

We dived into Cameron a little, to school and the fundraiser coming up  that Mom and Dad hosted every year. And just like every time I talked to  my brother, time seemed to fly, never enough of it to talk about all we  wanted to.

The sun had already set by the time I told Graham I should probably get started on dinner.

"Okay, sis," he said, but there was a long pause after. "Are you alright? I mean, are you happy?"

My stomach knotted. "Of course. Why?"

There was a sigh. "No reason. I just …  Reese asked me that the night we  talked, and I couldn't really answer. It's been a long time since I  asked you."

My eyes flashed to the copy of Anna Karenina again, and I frowned. Reese  had been so fixated on that since he'd come back into town - on my  happiness. I realized then that I hadn't even thought to ask about his.

"Well, I'm happy."

I paused when the words were out, weighing them, measuring how they felt  once they were out. It didn't feel like a lie, especially not with a  dance waiting downstairs. Cameron hadn't exactly acted much different  that week, not outside of making love to me after that Friday night. But  still, that alone had given me hope, had given me something to hold  onto that I hadn't had for a long time.

"Good. You deserve to be happy, sis."

"Thank you," I said. "So do you."

"Well, on that note, there's one more thing I wanted to tell you on our call," Graham said. "Christina and I …  we're pregnant."

He should have been excited.

My big brother should have been so excited to tell me that. It should  have been the first thing he told me when we got on the phone. But he  and I both knew that hearing those words come from his mouth would  elicit something from deep inside me, something bad.

It was a monster, a mixture of jealousy and pain, of sadness and utter  joy. I would be an aunt. My brother would be a father. He would make our  parents grandparents.

Just like I was supposed to.

"Oh, Graham," I forced after a moment, my eyes welling with tears.  "That's …  incredible. Congratulations. Please, tell Christina I said  congratulations. Wow."

"Thank you," he said, and I could hear a pinch of relief in the breath that left him next. "I was a little worried to tell you … "

"Oh, don't be silly." I waved my hand, as if he could see me. "I'm overjoyed. I'll be an aunt!"

"And you'll be the best one," he said.

"Do Mom and Dad know?"

"I just told them, right before I called you."

"Do you know the due date?"

It was all I could do - ask questions.

"July twenty-fourth as of now."

I sniffed, the first true smile breaking my face as the tears spilled over.

My brother was having a child.

It hit me like a cloud of glitter and a bucket of ice water all at once.

"Well, I better get off here and call Mom. I'm sure she'll be dying to  gush about all things baby-related," I spoke through my tears, sniffing  and laughing, likely sounding like a maniac. "I'm so happy for you,  Graham."

"Thanks, sis. Let's talk again soon, okay?"

I agreed, and then the call was ended.

I didn't pick it back up to call Mom.

Instead, I sat in the chair, in the library, my eyes drifting over the  books to the closet that hid the furniture that would have made this  room a nursery. And for just one split second, I let myself be sad. I  let myself be selfish and angry for just that one, lonely moment.

Then, I stood, letting my feet numbly carry me to the kitchen to start dinner.

I worked through the task of cooking, trying to keep my focus there, but  it wandered like a dandelion seed in the wind. I'd land on a thought,  one of Reese, perhaps, or of my future niece or nephew. Then, the  thought would be swept away again, momentarily floating until it landed  on Cameron, or on our sons.

They would have been cousins-to-be, if they were alive. I would have  rushed into their room to tell them. We would have gone to the hospital  to see their new baby cousin when he or she arrived. They would have  spent holidays together - Christmases unwrapping gifts on Mom and Dad's  Persian rug under the tree, Easters hunting eggs behind the church.

When dinner was finished, I ate alone. Cameron took his in his study,  trying to finish up the work he had to do. I left him alone, all the  while waiting for our dance later. I'd tell him then, when he had me in  his arms, the soft music swaying around us. I'd tell him that he would  be an uncle soon.

Just like I'd once told him he'd be a dad.                       
       
           


///
       

Keeping myself busy for the next couple of hours was nearly impossible. I  tried watching television, tried starting a new book, but mostly I just  stared at walls, my thoughts running away with me.

Around eight, I slipped inside Cameron's office with a gentle knock at  the door, wearing only a lavender silk camisole he'd bought me for  Christmas one year. He glanced up at me when I entered, reading glasses  low on his nose, and then his eyes were back on the numbers he was  crunching.