What He Doesn't Know(35)
"Wine would be nice."
I followed Reese into his kitchen, taking in his home as we walked through it. It was a modest bachelor pad, a few unpacked boxes still lining the back wall of his living room and absolutely nothing hanging on the walls. His furniture was neutral, simple and cohesive, and his kitchen housed only the necessities from what I could see. He had a coffee pot that I assumed was the most-used appliance he owned, and there was a chair and an empty box flipped upside down near his sliding glass door.
Reese followed my eyes to that spot as he pulled a bottle of red wine from a rack on his counter. I wondered who'd bought that wine rack for him, because I knew he wouldn't have bought it himself.
"Isn't my little smoking corner so sophisticated?" he asked, corking the bottle. "Sure as hell beats freezing my balls off on the back porch."
"You know, the easier solution would be to stop smoking," I challenged, setting the bag of tacos I'd brought on the kitchen island. He handed me a fresh glass of wine, and I had a feeling none of those tacos were going to be eaten.
It was a liquid dinner kind of night.
"Nah. Sounds healthy and smart. Not my style." Once he had a glass filled for himself, he lifted it in the air toward me. "Cheers."
"Cheers."
We both took a sip, and I looked around his kitchen as he watched me, both of us silent.
I waited for him to ask me about Cameron, but I really hoped he wouldn't. I'd come to his place to get away from my problems for a while, not to talk about them.
Relief washed over me when he walked back into the living room to Jane's cage, bending at the waist to get a better look at her.
"Should we pour a glass of wine for her, too?" he teased, and I smiled, sidling up beside him with my wine in hand.
"Honestly, it couldn't hurt. Poor girl hasn't been herself all day."
"Can you blame her?" he asked. "You and I both know what that kind of loss does to you. She probably won't ever be the same."
A cold chill swept through me, and I shivered.
He was right.
Jane never would be the same.
Reese eyed me, standing up straight again. "Do you remember that one summer when me, you, Graham, and Mallory made a giant fort in the den with all of your mom's clean guest sheets?"
I smiled at the memory, a flash of my young best friend helping me hang sheets hitting me so strong it was like she was still there. I hadn't given myself much time to think about her, not since she'd left all those years ago.
///
She was just two years older than I was. I'd already lived a longer life than she was allowed to.
"My mom was so mad when she came home to that."
"Yeah," Reese agreed. "But then she made us sandwiches and snacks and helped us put together a sign for the front of it. Remember? She bought glitter for you and Mallory to use and everything."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "We stayed in that thing all weekend."
"Would have stayed longer if me and Graham wouldn't have had football camp that Monday."
"Maybe. But it was starting to smell in there." I scrunched my nose, and Reese laughed.
Already, my chest felt lighter. The pain that had been vibrating through it all day like a train through a tunnel finally receded, and for the first time that day, I could breathe.
This was what I loved most about Reese being back in town.
I didn't know how it was possible, that he knew just what to say, just what to do to turn my entire day around. He'd done it that first dinner night at my parents' house, and again that afternoon he'd given me the Tolstoy book, and yet again the night we went up the Incline. He just knew me, even though we'd been apart for so many years.
I didn't understand it, but I loved it.
"That was before Graham decided he was too cool to hang out with his little sister anymore. He didn't come out of that phase until we were both out of college," I said.
"He loved you. But yeah, I guess it wasn't really cool for anyone to hang out with their little sister once high school hit."
I nodded, still smiling, thinking of nights that Reese hung out with me when Graham was off doing his own thing.
Graham had always been more of the party animal, and though Reese was his partner in crime, he would often slip out early on the nights when he didn't have a potential girl hanging on his arm. I was almost always at Mallory's on the weekends, and she went to sleep early so she could wake up for gymnastics practice.
I lost count of the nights I'd be sitting in a dimly lit corner of their kitchen with a snack and a book when Reese came home, and then we'd stay up late just talking.
I couldn't lie - there were many nights when I stayed up past the time I was tired on purpose, just in case I could spend a couple hours with him.
"Do you ever talk to him anymore?" I asked after a moment. "Graham?"
Reese sighed, nodding his head toward his couch for us to both take a seat. He took the far-left side and I took the far-right, sitting with my legs crossed and angling toward him. Once we were settled, he took a long drink of wine before he answered the question.
"We kept in touch for a while when I first left, but just like you and I talked about that night at your parents' house - life happened, you know? He was in college and so was I, we lived in different cities, and then he met Christina and they moved to Arizona before I moved back here." He shrugged. "I called him that night after I left dinner with your family and we caught up for a while, but nothing crazy. He said he'll come see me next time he's in town."
"Probably won't be until the holidays. That's the only time we ever count on seeing him."
"Do you talk to him much?"
It was my turn to shrug. "Every other week or so, but sometimes we go longer. I did talk to him recently though … " My eyes found Jane, and I watched her sitting almost completely still in her cage, no song to sing that night. "Christina is pregnant."
I couldn't look at Reese then, but I knew his eyes were wide, his mind racing for what to say.
"How do you feel about that?"
My heart squeezed, and I lifted my glass to my lips, taking a small sip of wine as I thought on it.
It was the first time anyone had asked me.
Cameron had suggested we buy them a gift, and that's just what he'd done. He even got the card. All I had to do was sign my name on it before he mailed it out. And Mom and Dad, they were too excited to ask how I felt - as they should be. They were finally going to be grandparents.
They should have already been.
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I mean, obviously, I'm ecstatic. I'm so happy for Graham, and Christina, too. They'll be amazing parents. And of course, I know Mom and Dad are thrilled. I can't wait to be an aunt." I paused. "And Cameron, he'll be the best uncle."
He would have been the best dad.
Reese eyed me for a moment, propping one arm over the back of the couch. "Okay. But how do you feel."
"I told you, happy," I said again, but when my eyes met his, I knew it wasn't the truth.
///
He knew it, too.
I sighed. "And … heartbroken. It was supposed to be me, you know? I had been pregnant first. I should have five-year-old twin boys right now. Graham's child should have older cousins." I skated the rim of my wine glass with my index finger. "I should be a mom first, and an aunt second. But I'll just be an aunt. Period."
"You're still a mom," Reese said tenderly. "You always will be. And it's okay to not only feel happy. It's okay that you have real, tangible, painful feelings toward this. It doesn't make you a bad person."
"I feel like it does."
"It doesn't," he said quickly. "Can I ask you something?"
I just looked at him in answer, waiting.
"Did you and Cameron ever … are you guys trying again?"
My throat tightened at the mention of him, and I shook my head, taking another, larger drink of wine. "New topic."
He nodded, taking a sip of wine as I watched Jane swing sadly inside her cage. "Okay. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I just don't want to talk about that."
The truth was that we hadn't tried again, Cameron and I. We hadn't even talked about the possibility. It wasn't that we weren't trying, either, but it had never been a conversation between us - not even when we'd become pregnant with the twins. It just happened.
Cameron didn't like to talk about anything. He never did. Why would losing our sons change that?
Reese must have sensed my heartache, the cloud hanging over me, because he immediately launched into some stupid drama Sheldon and Sierra had gotten themselves into earlier that day.