Tenebrosity

Chapter Six: “Solitude's A Reason to Die”

 

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies within us while we live.~Norman Cousins

*****

 

Saturday, October 15, 2015

Carl’s birthday party is much bigger than I thought it would be. The guests include a whole bunch of cops that were on the force with Carl, his whole array of family members and our family too. It’s the weirdest mix of people I’ve ever seen in my life. It works in my favor though because none of our family members’ focus is on me.

Brian is standing in the hallway talking about some campaign that he and Hunter are working on. It turned out that Hunter had an eye for advertising and after graduating top in his class, Brian and I hired him on as a junior ad exec. His wife, Harper, stands beside him, holding onto his arm and smiling as if she’s the happiest woman in the world. She probably is; she was always very spunky and easy going but with news as great as hers, she’s glowing. Harper was my assistant at Kinnetik, long before Hunter started working there. I really have no idea what she does now. She’s probably Ted’s or Cynthia’s assistant, I suppose. Kinnetik sure has become a family company, more so now that Gus is working with Brian too.

Lindsay announced her plans to move to Berlin shortly after Brian and I arrived. For a while, I had to answer a bunch of questions all about Gus living at Britin. Michael asked if I was ready to have a teenager live with me full time and then started blabbing about how tough it can be. Brian reminded him that Gus usually stayed with us during the summer and then Lindsay and Michael began talking about how different it is to raise a girl. Michael just had to tell us that over the summer Jenny started her period for the first time and Ben had to go get Debbie in the middle of the night. He swore it was the most embarrassing experience of his life, when I’m sure it was much worse for Jenny. Everyone laughed at the story and as they did I slinked away and claimed the spot I’m in now.

There’s a bench seat near the door, far away from the couches, tables and chairs in the center of the room. From here, I can see everyone and prepare myself just in case someone does want to talk to me; at this very moment it seems that I’m going to have to speak to some woman that I’ve never seen before in my life.

“Hi, you’re Justin, right?” the pristinely dressed, older woman asks me.

I nod at her and force what I hope is a smile to appear on my face.

“I’m Tonya,” she says, sitting down beside me. “I’m Carl’s cousin and I thought I recognized you.”

I pretend that I don’t see the hand she’s holding out to me. I don’t know this woman and if she thinks I’m rude then she can just go back to the other party guests and talk to them. But to at least maintain a bit of politeness I reply, “Nice to meet you.”

“We’ve actually met before, years ago.”

I try to think of how I could know this woman but she looks like a complete stranger to me. “We have?”

She laughs. “Well, I guess you probably meet hundreds of people at your art shows so you may not remember me but I couldn’t forget you. I bought a beautiful painting of yours a few years ago from the Bloom Gallery. It’s the one you did of a little girl sleeping curled up against a gorgeous young man. I bought it for my son as a Father’s Day gift. My granddaughter was just about the same age as the little girl appeared to be. My son still has it hanging in his living room. He said that so many of his friends have asked to buy it but he refuses to sell it.”

I close my eyes briefly and can see perfectly the memory of the day I sketched that painting out on my large sketchpad. Brian and Arella were napping in the living room, it was snowing outside and the window behind the sofa was foggy but the room was warm and cozy from the roaring fire in the fireplace. A chill surges up my spine and I open my eyes to meet hers, my heart beating in my throat as I try to quell the panic and pain rising inside of me. Brian had woke during my sketching and the look on his face… I can remember it so vividly. He was amused that I was sketching them both for the millionth time, but with his eyes he was sharing with me the connection he had with Arella. I hadn’t wanted to put that one up for sale but there were only so many I could keep of the two of them together and still have paintings to show. “I remember that one,” I say, barely managing to speak the sentence fluidly.

She points down the hall to Brian and smiles at me. “I’ve been working up the courage to ask you about it, but he’s the man in the painting, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” I answer tersely, looking toward Brian as he walks back into the living room. “He’s my husband.”

“And the little girl is your daughter?”

“Y… yes.” I look over at Brian and as he catches my eyes, I silently plead with him to save me. I’m afraid that at any moment I’m going to lose it. My insides are turning into molten lava and my palms are sweating profusely.

“She looks so much like you so I thought she was your child. I looked to see if she was here tonight but there are so many other kids running around…”

“Justin, Debbie might want your help with the food,” Brian interrupts us with a lame excuse that I hope will work. He looks at the woman and gives her an apologetic smile that I know is fake. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation.”

I grab onto his arm and abruptly stand up. “You didn’t,” I tell him.

“We were just talking about a painting I bought a few years ago.”

“Oh, which one?” Brian asks her, but the tremble in his voice tells me he can guess that it was one of many that featured Arella.

“It’s of you and your little girl,” Tonya continues, oblivious to my torment and need for the conversation to end and Brian’s struggle to remain calm.

I let go of Brian and turn toward the front door. “Excuse me.” I walk outside much quicker than I should, relying almost completely on my cane to do most of the work. I just had my cast removed on Tuesday and was told to take it easy. Any pain or stiffness I feel doesn’t matter though. I feel like I am suffocating and burning alive all at once. I suck in deep, filling my lungs with the cold fresh air as I slowly sit down on the porch swing. I attempt to block the sorrow that wants to torture every breath I take.

I don’t know if I made a scene back there when I left and slammed the door behind me. There’s so much going on inside that it’s possible no one paid attention to my dramatic exit. Or, I was so loud about it that everyone saw. I hope I didn’t draw their attention though because then everyone will have a reason to start asking me if I’m okay. They’ll think that I accept that there’s something wrong and then they’ll try to fix me. I’m afraid to go back in there, even if I do feel like I can survive without crying or throwing up. I don’t want to go in there and see that my family has made excuses for my behavior. I don’t want to know that word has spread to the strangers.

When my family looks at me, I know the first thing they think is ‘your daughter is dead.’ Everything that blooms after grows from the dirt of her grave. They allow me to say anything I want and do as I please because I’m a member of a club they don’t belong to. I pay my dues with every half-breath I take and I’m never going to stop paying them. No one wants to be a member of the association I became a part of. They may be affiliated with it, but they don’t attend the party of anguish I do every moment I live.

The idea of going to a support group to be with other men and women who are part of the club is revolting. We’d all have different reasons and I know that many of them probably use religion as an excuse for it all. My angel isn’t flying with Jesus and I won’t delude myself into thinking she is or believing there will ever be a good reason why my daughter isn’t playing with all the rest of the kids at this party. No excuse or reason will ever make it okay that she hasn’t come home.

It’s so hard not to be jealous of every one of the parents of those children enjoying the party inside. It’s hard to watch them talk with other adults, having meaningless polite conversation, when I feel like they should be spending as much time with their child as they can instead of exchanging stories with adults that can never give them the fairy tale-like love they’d get from their child. They’d all want to lock me up if they knew that I watched each one of their children tonight and wished that one of them would suddenly become the mine that I’m waiting to see again.

Sometimes I watch those stupid television shows where the kids get everything they want and still whine and cry and act horrible to their parents. They had a marathon of this show called ‘Help! I Hate My Parents!’ on MTV a few days ago and I felt riveted by how evil these children are. A 6-year-old girl woke her mother up by pulling her hair and literally dragging her out of her bed to make her breakfast. I know it’s sick, but I sat there thinking about how that child deserves to die, listed a thousand reasons of why that little girl is unworthy of life and why my child is worth much more. I know of course that kid didn’t deserve to die, but I still thought a lot about it and doubt she’d be missed much at all.

I thought about that kid all day until I realized that her mother and father don’t deserve to feel like I do. I own that pain completely.

Fuck! It’s freezing out here, my leg is stiffening up from the cold, and I wish I could go back inside but I don’t want to face anyone else that now probably knows my ‘secret’. I want to go home and forget all of this reality.

On my more lucid days, I carry a badge seared upon my heart and even though it’s inside everyone will know that it’s there. They’ll all see it. The few people I didn’t know that greeted me with a pleasant ‘hi, how are you’ introduction will know that I’m just a false mass of flesh and bones. My stupid mouth replies with lies because actually telling them that I’m horrible, that I’m no longer an artist, that I no longer have a little girl, and that I’d rather be dead than alive but I don’t have enough balls to buy bullets for my gun, would only cause things to be worse than they are.

I hear the front door open and wipe the freezing tears off my face before turning toward whomever it is coming out. It’s the only other person in this world who shares the same invisible brand. He’s bundled up in his leather coat, hat and gloves and has my coat draped over his arm.

“I thought you could use this,” he gruffly speaks, sitting down beside me.

I nod, take the jacket from him and slip it on. “Did you tell that woman why I ran away?” I ask, searching my inside pocket for my pack of cigarettes and lighter.

“No,” he replies and gives me a sad smile.

His leg presses against mine and I feel him heat me up more than the jacket has. I light the cigarette and fumble to hold the pack out to him. “You want one?”

“I don’t smoke, Justin.” To emphasize his statement he waves my puff of smoke away from him and scoots away from me.

Well, so much for getting warmer. “Since when don’t you smoke?” This has to be something new.

He gives me a hard stare as though I’m supposed to know this already. I don’t and I don’t feel like fighting with him. “What did you tell that woman?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I told her that you get panic attacks whenever you talk about your work,” he laughs.

“What?” I blow my smoke at him on purpose for him purposely being an asshole.

“Don’t worry; I made it sound like it was just part of being a temperamental artist.”

I glare at him. “I’m not an artist anymore.”

“Come inside,” he whispers.

I throw my cigarette off the porch, grab my cane and hobble inside behind Brian. Relief washes over me when not a single person turns to look at us when we enter.

“The gang is just now sitting down to eat in the kitchen,” he says quietly looking over his shoulder as we head toward the hallway. “You know Debbie; she has to make sure everyone else has eaten before she does.”

We stop at the hall closet to hang up our coats. “I’m not too hungry,” I say, the smell of the food everyone has in the living room does nothing to make my stomach’s turning subside.

“Too bad,” he singsongs, slipping beside me and putting his arm around my waist as we slip into our roles and enter the kitchen.

 

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Saturday, June 15, 2013

I watch as Arella spins around on the dance floor beside me, the huge skirt of her flower girl dress poufs out and she giggles excitedly.

“I’m a Princess, Dada!” she shouts at Brian.

“You are,” he agrees, picks her up and places her feet on top of his.

It’d be hard to believe that Brian would ever place little girl shoes on top of his four hundred dollar shoes, but he did the same thing two weeks ago when he danced with her at Hunter and Harper’s wedding. His dance there, however, was nowhere near as enthusiastic and joyful as it is tonight.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, Molly,” I laugh and step back from her a little.

“I don’t even get your attention on my wedding day?” she asks as I spin her around.

I smile and dance us away from Brian and Rel. “Sorry, now my attention will be all on you.”

She giggles and asks, “Because you can’t see them?”

“I can’t help it,” I tell her, “I never thought that Brian would be like this with her.”

“Like what?” Molly asks.

“Like the way dad was with you when you were little,” I reply. Of course, I know it’s in a way very different, but Molly will understand what I mean by that. She and Craig are still parent and child.

She was much too young when I first met Brian to understand the way he used to be. Molly’s heard stories but she’s only really gotten to know Brian since Rel was born. Brian is still Brian Kinney, but Rel forced Brian to open up. He does a lot of the stuff I thought I’d be the only one to do with her, which was going to be fine with me, but every day I still get surprised by his behavior.

It’s weird that being around our extended family makes him close up more than he does when he’s around strangers. Debbie is the only person from the gang that Mom made Molly invite to her wedding. She and her new husband Lucas are dirt poor because they’re both low-paid social workers who love their jobs. She couldn’t count on my Dad to pay for the whole wedding, so it’s a very small affair. Mostly it’s a bunch of family, people I haven’t seen in years and people that Brian’s never met before and will likely never meet again, so I guess it gives him free rein to act silly with our daughter.

“So you’re sure you’re not knocked up, right?” I joke.

“Shut up,” she gasps, rolling her eyes. “That isn’t funny!”

“Well, you only got engaged a few months ago and suddenly the wedding date was moved up,” I reply.

“That was because Harper offered to let me use all of her decorations and I wanted all the fake flowers to still be in season. Plus, I knew that Arella’s flower girl dress would still fit her.”

“Brian and I would’ve helped you pay for a wedding, Molly,” I say sincerely. I’m grateful to Harper for helping give my sister an amazing wedding. She and Molly got to talking after Molly came to Kinnetik to tell me she got engaged and the two brides-to-be immediately began to bond. She’d be here too, but she and Hunter are still on their honeymoon in Europe.

“I know that,” she says and kisses my cheek. “You’re the best brother in the world, but I don’t mind. Today’s been the greatest day of my life.”

“Just wait until you do have a child, Molly. That’ll be the greatest day of your life,” I tell her.

“You’re the corniest guy in the world, Justin.”

“It’s all Brian’s doing,” I say jokingly.

“I said corny,” she giggles, “not hor…”

“Can I cut in?”

I stop dancing and look beside me at Craig. God, he looks old and his suit looks cheap, making his appearance look worse. “Sure,” I say and give Molly a hug. “Congratulations, Mollusk.”

She grins and tears start forming in her eyes as she whispers, “Thanks, Jus.”

I’m about to step away and go join in on Brian and Rel’s fun when Craig puts his hand on my arm and stops me. “I saw… Brian and your daughter dancing.”

I give him a steely look. If he dares to try to tell me that they’re acting inappropriately or some other waspy shit I just might hit him. “Yeah?”

“They look like they’re having fun,” he observes, looking in their direction and then back at me. His face turns into a small but honest smile. “You’re happy?”

I bite my lip and resist saying something along the lines of, ‘like you care’, but instead say, “Marrying Brian and having Arella are the best things to ever happen to me. Of course I’m happy.”

He nods and steps closer to Molly. “Enjoy your time with her while she's little,” he says gruffly, “before you know it she'll be all grown up and you’ll be dancing with her at her wedding.”

I have no idea what to say to him; the man hasn’t spoken to me in years. Molly and I share a shocked look before I smile at her and leave them to dance.

“Hey, Daddy!” Arella greets me, jumping off Brian’s feet and grabbing my hands. “Are you going to dance with me now?”

“Of course,” I tell her and pick her up in my arms.

“Grandma!” she shouts as my mother appears beside us. “I want to dance with you!”

“What about Daddy?” Brian asks, laughing at her change in dance partner.

“Grandma knows the real moves,” she says matter of fact.

Mom looks at me sheepishly. “I taught her a bit of the fox trot,” she explains.

I set Arella down. “Fine, go dance with Grandma,” I tell her, pretending to pout.

She doesn’t even notice my expression and starts to dance with my mother, totally ignoring me. I look at Brian and he gives me a sexy grin as he walks closer to me.

“You know all the moves,” he whispers in my ear, pulling me tight against him.

I run my hands up the arms of his impossibly expensive suit, rest them on the back of his neck, and pull his face toward mine. His mouth opens slightly and we share a slow, sensual kiss.

“We should really make your mother watch Rel for the night,” he tells me, pushing his groin against mine and swaying his hips even though we’re not really dancing.

“What about Gus?” I ask him. “We’re supposed to pick him up from his friend’s house,” I glance at my watch, “in an hour.”

“I’ll see if he wants to stay the night with Michael and Ben. Jenny goes home tomorrow because she’s got summer school; he might want to hang out with her before she goes.”

I kiss him again, slide my hands to his shoulders, and separate our bodies a little bit. “You always have the best ideas,” I say kissing him again before I guide our bodies to begin moving to the corny love song playing.

 

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Sunday, October 16, 2016

“Can I come in?” Gus asks, knocking on the open office door.

I turn to him and nod. “Do you need something?”

“I’m just bored,” he says and plops down on the black leather sofa in front of the desk.

I log out of the internet, clear the history and give Gus my full attention. “What’s your dad doing?”

He rolls his eyes at me and sighs, “He’s on the phone with Uncle Teddy bitching at him about some work thing.”

“Don’t you know what he’s bitching about?” I ask curiously. “You work there.” I hold my hand below the desk and flex it against my thigh; it’s really fucking seizing up. I can’t wait until the cast comes off my left arm.

“I’m just Dad’s assistant,” he snickers. “You’re his partner.”

“Just because I’m his husband it doesn’t mean that I know everything that goes on at Kinnetik,” I tell him.

Gus sits up straighter and gives me a funny look. “I meant that you’re his partner in Kinnetik.”

“Not anymore,” I say. “He bought me out and divided my shares between Cynthia and Ted.”

He starts to laugh, sounding much like Brian does when he’s being condescending.

“What?”

He stops his laughter and shakes his head back and forth. “Dad only told you that to see if it would get you to go back to work.”

“No, he didn’t, Gus,” I respond, getting annoyed at his attitude. “The money is in my bank account.”

“Well, he may have transferred money to your account but I’d bet it’s from your shared account. I don’t think he took away your shares in Kinnetik and I know he didn’t make Cynthia and Ted partners.”

“What in God’s name makes you think that?” I demand to know.

“Harper told me,” he says firmly. “I was talking to her and referred to Ted as a partner and she told me that I was mistaken. I asked her about Dad selling your shares and she said that never happened and he never even offered them to Ted and Cynthia.”

“Are… are you sure, Gus?” I can’t believe Brian would do this. Or maybe I can.

“I’m positive,” he tells me, smiling in satisfaction. “Do you know that your office is in the same spot? No one goes in it.”

I roll my eyes at him now. “Obviously not, since you must’ve been told that I haven’t stepped foot in the place in…”

“Justin, I think your mother’s car is pulling up in the driveway,” Brian tells me, sounding a bit panicked as he walks into the room, oblivious to the conversation Gus and I were having.

“My mother’s car?” I ask, unsure. She never comes out here without calling first.

“Yeah,” he confirms, walking up to me “Come on, I’ll help you walk into the foyer but I’ve got work to do and I don’t have the time to catch any shit from your mom about our abrupt departure from Carl’s birthday party.”

“Why are you suddenly afraid to talk to my mother?” I ask him, standing and pushing his hand away and grabbing my cane.

The doorbell chimes and Gus pops up from the sofa. “I’ll go get the door,” he says, quickly moving out of the room.

“I’m not afraid of your mother,” Brian snaps at me the second Gus takes off running down the hall. We told them we were leaving early because your leg was bothering you and it isn’t you that she’s going to bitch to about your recovery, it’s me.”

“Oh, sorry,” I say genuinely and put my arm around his waist. “But she’ll see I’m doing really well today.”

Brian whispers, “We don’t have to act like a couple around her. She knows we’re not happy together, Justin.”

Caught off guard by his assessment, I don’t say anything back to him and I don’t drop my arm from around him. I do end up needing his support when I practically fall over when I see who is standing in my doorway.

“Justin!” Molly exclaims and slowly walks toward me.

“Be careful, Molly,” Mom warns from behind her. “He’s just gotten his cast off.”

“I’m fine,” I say, walking away from Brian and walking toward my sister. It doesn’t bother me much to hug her, but the way she embraces me is much tighter and longer than I’d prefer. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Oh, that’s a nice greeting,” Brian snarks, taking Mom’s coat from her.

“Well, I didn’t get one from you at all,” Molly pouts, handing Brian her coat as she kisses his cheek.

Brian hangs their coats up in the foyer closet, then turns, and gives her a tight hug. “It’s good to see you, Molly.”

“What am I,” Mom asks, “chopped liver?”

“That’s such an old people thing to say, Grandma,” Gus chimes in as he hugs my mother while Brian does the same on the other side of her.

I find myself laughing a real laugh, feeling truly happy to see my little sister. She and Lucas moved to New York a year ago and I haven’t gotten to see her since. “I’m glad you came too, Mom.” I walk toward her and give her a small hug. “Brian’s been taking care of me, my leg is doing a lot better than it was last night.”

She gives me a funny look but nods her head.

“So, what are you doing here, Aunt Molly?” Gus asks.

“Well, I had my vacation from work this week so I flew in early this morning and thought I’d spend some time in Pittsburgh,” Molly explains.

“Let’s go into the living room,” Brian suggests, leading the way.

We all follow him into the room and I sit beside Molly and take her in. She looks so much different from the last time I saw her. “So, I don’t mind,” which is sort of a lie, “but why didn’t you guys call first?”

“Well, we wanted to surprise you. I have some news,” she giggles, practically jumping in her chair.

“What is it?” I ask her. “Did you finally get that promotion?”

“No,” she says softly. “Actually I’m quitting my job in a few weeks and Lucas and I are moving back to Pittsburgh. Mom says that the Gay and Lesbian Center is looking for counselors so I may be getting a job there. I have an interview with Blake on Tuesday, that’s another one of the reasons I’m taking my vacation in Pittsburgh.”

“That’s great, Molly,” I tell her.

“Yeah,” Brian snorts, “but why would you leave New York to work for pennies at the GLC?”

“Because I’m pregnant,” Molly answers softly. “I’m going to have a little girl.”

The room falls completely silent and I feel like my sister just shot me in the chest. Numbness seeps into my body at the same time as a wave of nausea overtakes me.

“Congratulations, Aunt Molly!” Gus exclaims, breaking the silence that seemed like it went on for hours. Molly stands up to receive a hug from him and then sits down slowly, staring at me worriedly.

“A g… girl?” Brian breathes out the question, making my attention turn toward him. He looks like he’s about to throw up too.

It’s weird that that comforts me. I shouldn’t want for him to hurt the way I am but I want his company in this. I’m so fucked up!

“Yes,” Mom answers for her. “I’ll have another granddaughter,” she says in a terribly slow voice.

“Justin,” Molly says my name too softly and tries to cover my shaking hand in hers.

I pull my hand away and stand up, the room spins around me and I grab my cane just in time. “Brian,” I plead for a million things just by speaking his name.

His dazed eyes turn teary as he walks over to me and wraps his arm around me.

“I’m sorry,” Molly says, “I thought… I thought it might make things a little better, Justin.”

I know that’s what she thought. That might be anyone’s rational way of dealing with what Brian and I have been through, maybe, but I can’t handle it right now. I know it’s mean and cruel, but I can’t face her.

“You thought it might make things better?” Brian asks in a dangerously calm voice. “Nothing makes it better,” Brian grits out, speaking for the both of us. “You… you, the baby is hard enough,” he tells her, his voice a near shriek. “A girl. A girl… you think that’ll replace our girl?”

I bite my lip and sniff back the tears that want to fall from my eyes. I hate what I feel, I hate what I’m about to tell my sister and mother but I have no choice right now. “Please, just leave,” I request, not looking at either one of them.

“Justin!” Gus protests, putting his hands on his hips.

“It’s okay,” Molly replies, whispering and touching her stomach.

“No, it isn’t,” my mother replies in a disappointed tone. “We shouldn’t have shown up like this.”

“I can’t believe you’re making them leave!” Gus yells and runs from the room, pounding up the staircase.

I turn away from my mother and Molly as they pass us and focus on Brian’s chest that is rising and falling quickly as he takes shallow breaths. We don’t move until we hear the front door close.

“I need to lie down,” I tell him, doing my best to walk out of the room.

“Me too,” he whispers, following me down the hall.

I reach the stairs and look behind me at him. Tears fall unrestrained down his face and his lips are swollen from biting them to stave off words that I know we both were thinking. “Can you carry me upstairs? I don’t think I can make it.”

“I’ll help you to your room down here,” he speaks gruffly, wrapping his arm around my waist.

I don’t care if Brian doesn’t want me sleeping beside him. It doesn’t matter. I feel like someone yanked all the life out of me and I’m going to pass out the moment I get in the bed.

We reach my room, he turns on the soft lamp light beside the bed, pulls the blanket back for me, and I carelessly drop my cane and get in. My eyes close as soon as my head hits the pillow but they snap open in shock a second later when I feel the bed dip beside me. I turn a little on my side and see Brian is climbing under the covers too. When he settles himself facing me, we stare at each other for a long time. All thoughts that normally press into my mind when I beg for a blank sleep are gone. My entire body focuses on the color of his irises and the hues that change before my eyes, highlighted by the orange light from the lamp behind me. His eyes don’t move away from mine, our gaze remains locked for what feels like an eternity and just before our eyes close, I feel him place his hand on my chest, right over my aching heart.

Continued in Chapter 6 Part 2

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