Steve was in the class below me at school when we were growing up. Or maybe even two grades away - anyway, I didn't notice him much. But no, let's be honest, it's hard not to notice Steve. He's always bumbling in where he's not quite welcome, loudly saying things he shouldn't, never for an instant realizing how dangerous it is. Or not caring, sometimes.
I went to plenty of parties where Steve was the butt of every joke. I heard about plenty more, when I was home studying, keeping an eye on Cecil because someone had to. There was no one else willing to, so it had to be me. And yeah, I'd've rather been out having fun, but I made the most of it. I studied. I made plans. I was going to get out of town, go to school far away, make something of myself. Live my own life. Once I graduated high school, no one could stop me. And that's what I did. Cecil was getting older, and Mom was... Mom was...
She was there. Most of the time. Physically in the house, anyway. And that was enough, it had to be. It met the legal requirements. Cecil's always been kind of codependent, but it was high time he learned to make it on his own. I had to do it a lot younger. And he did. Pretty much. And I started to relax.
But it couldn't last, I should have known that. I got a letter saying Mom had disappeared. Weird things were happening with Cecil - when weren't weird things happening with that kid? He's a mess. So I had no choice. I thought I'd escaped, but I guess in the end there was no escape. I had to go back. Someone had to keep an eye on him. He didn't have anyone else. So I went back to that awful house I told myself I'd left behind forever, packed full of stuff, clutter everywhere, and my brother with his haunted eyes magnified by those big dumb glasses of his. What else could I do? Someone had to.
I didn't like the idea of looking up old friends, though. I'd hurt a lot of feelings when I left, burned a lot of bridges. Everyone stared at me when I went to the store. I wasn't completely a Night Valean anymore, but I wasn't quite an Interloper. I was something in between, and nobody knew what to make of me.
Except Steve. Dumb, annoying Steve, whose eyes lit up when he saw me, and that big stupid grin flashed over his face, and he waved like he was five blocks away. We'd barely said two words to each other before.
"Hey, Abby! I heard you were back in town! Well of course you're back, here you are!" He chuckled as he ambled over, wiping his sweaty arm over his sweaty face. "How was college?"
"Oh, it was great. Wish I was back there now." I really wasn't interested in talking to Steve Carlsberg. Not to mention I could see at least two of the Sheriff's Secret Police Officers snickering.
"I'm at the community college, myself – nothing fancy, but I like it! It's home, you know? And we were named one of the top 60% of junior colleges in the area." He smiled brightly.
"That's great, Steve, but I've got a lot to do today."
"Oh, well I won't keep you. Oh! But we're having a bake sale on campus this Thursday, to benefit orphans of the Blood Space War! I'm making my special scones, they're a hit. I'll even give you a free sample, if you want!"
"I'm busy Thursday." The lie came easily as I quickened my stride.
"Oh, that's okay. But if you want –"
"No, Steve."
"Oh." He was quiet for a moment, then laughed. "All right, see you around!"
So life went on, and I could feel it dragging me down more and more every day. I got less and less patient with Cecil – I was never a saint to begin with, let's be honest. I know it wasn't his fault, none of it was. But at the same time, if it weren't for him, I would have had my own life, away from all this… Night Vale. I tried to make the best of it, to get out of the house, reconnect… In hindsight, I could've made better choices about that.
His name isn't important, I don't want to think about it. Sometimes a guy will seem just flawless when you're sixteen. Good hair, smooth-talking, dreamy smile, a car… We used to sneak out at night and make out and laugh and drink and just forget things like home and school. He didn't like it when I left, but at that point I didn't care. I was doing it for me. If you can imagine 'I told you so' personified, that's him. As soon as we started talking again, he waltzed right into the house, sat on the couch, knocking the arm off and not bothering to put it back.
"This place is a wreck. Got anything to drink?"
On one hand, I was older, wiser. Worldly. I didn't have to be treated like that. But on the other hand, I was lonely. I had no one I could talk to, not a damn person in the world who understood. Not that he did. But that brash nonchalance appealed to me. He didn't care that I was some weird outsider-hybrid now. He came right back into my life, and part of me needed that.
He didn't like Cecil, and I didn't want him around Cecil, so that was a major stressor, since Cecil was always at home if he wasn't at the station or at school. I told him to be out of the house more, but of course he didn't listen. When does he ever? Well, he should have. Then maybe he could've avoided hearing some things he shouldn't have. I didn't appreciate the faces or retching sounds he made the morning after, because he was too scared to do it in the moment.
But that worked out fine, really, because he didn't want to hang around anyone else anyway. I didn't care about them. And nobody else wanted much to do with me, aside from staring and gossiping when they thought I wasn't paying attention. Just because they'd never looked past the end of their own stupid noses, and couldn't imagine the world beyond their doorsteps. I don't need them. I don't need anyone.
I was out shopping early one morning when I suddenly felt sick. I barely made it out of the Ralph's before I was heaving my breakfast into the bushes.
"Whoa, you okay there?" Steve Carlsberg popped out of nowhere, slightly out of breath, with his brow wrinkled in concern. "You don't look so good!"
"Thanks for the update," I snapped, spitting into the bushes and putting a hand on the wall to steady myself. "Get lost, Steve."
For once in his life, he did, and I was left gasping, sweating, blinking back hot tears. It must be a stomach bug, or maybe something I ate – that cheese sandwich I had for dinner the night before had been pretty old. I'd eaten worse, though.
"Here."
I jumped and turned towards the soft voice behind me. Steve was there, holding out a plastic bottle of water. "Rinse out your mouth, then drink it slowly. I'll walk you home."
"I – I've got shopping to do, Steve. I'll be fine, I just –"
"No, take it," he said, gentle but firm. And I did, because my mouth felt disgusting. "There you go. Wash your mouth out and drink the rest. How about this: Give me your shopping list, and I'll get what you need and bring it by your house in a little while, okay? That way you'll have time to rest and get better."
I stared at him for a full minute. "What – what kind of creep…"
"Oh, I – I'm sorry! I didn't mean to come off that way!" he said quickly, taking a step back and waving his hands around. "I just… well, you're not feeling well, and I know it's nice to have somebody else do the work once in a while, especially when you're sick." He tilted his head to the side like a dumb puppy and smiled, and my throat tightened.
"I… I think I'm gonna…" I turned back to the bushes.
"Oh! Oh, go ahead, get it out!"
So after I threw up again, Steve walked me home. He talked the whole time, I couldn't tell you what it was about, I was kind of in a daze. Dehydrated, probably. I gave him my shopping list and some money, and a while later, there was a soft knock at the door. I padded over to open it, and there was Steve, sweating and smiling in the morning sunlight, holding more bags than he should have been.
"I've got your food! Your lists are very mysterious, but I did my best." He chuckled, handing me the bags, then digging in his pocket. The change he handed me was also more than there should have been, especially with the extra food.
"Steve, this isn't right."
"Well like I said, I wasn't sure about some of the things, and they were out of the store brand Rabbit Extract – and that Bunny Bliss brand is so expensive! What a rip-off. But I had an extra bottle lying around. Don't worry, it's still good! And you're looking better, too!" He beamed.
"Steve –"
"Well I'd better be going, lots to do!" That dumb laugh of his, like Winnie the Pooh ate the Pillsbury Dough Boy. "Glad you're feeling better. You take it easy! Bye now!" With a little wave, he turned and walked away with a little spring in his step, humming tunelessly.
"Who's that?" Cecil asked from behind me.
"Nobody. If you've got time to stand around staring, you've got time to put away groceries."
"Awwwww!"
There was a fight that night about the different brand of Rabbit Extract, which I didn't even use. I was sick again the next morning. That pattern continued for a couple more weeks – sick in the morning, fight in the evening – until something suddenly became clear to me. I rushed to the drug store and didn't even care that half the town saw what I bought. And sure enough, my fears were confirmed. As if I needed something else on my plate. I wish Cecil hadn't been home that night.
"Well shit, when were you gonna tell me!?"
"I just found out myself today, when did you expect me to tell you!?"
"I figured you were gonna pull some shit like this sooner or later…"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"
"Trying to tie me down with some damn kid! Not enough you got your damn weird brother leeching off you, and don't think he's gonna stay in this house if you expect me to marry you!"
The house went silent, aside from his heavy breathing. I stared at him. "I never asked you to marry me," I finally managed to choke out.
"No, you were gonna make me do it, like you expect me to do everything about here!"
"Get. Out." I could feel myself, icy calm, quiet, trying not to tremble with rage.
"What the hell did you say to me!?" He lunged forward.
OUT!
The voice that resonated through me was bigger than me. In that instant, I was more than myself. I was the whole house, I was power and fury, a monster beyond anything known to man. I towered, I stole every bit of light and warmth in the room. And he pissed himself on his way out.
Loneliness was one thing, but being tied to that asshole my whole life? No.
"Abby?" a tremulous voice whispered behind me as I was cleaning up the last mess that bastard would ever leave in my house.
"What – Go back to bed," I snapped, not looking at him.
"Are you okay?"
I stood still for a moment, willing myself to stop shaking. "I'm fine, Cecil. It's okay."
"Is he gone?"
"For good."
"Well – well good!" His voice cracked. "Cause I was gonna punch him in the nose!"
"Go back to bed, Cecil," I said again, smiling a little.
"I wasn't even in bed, Abby, I was –"
"Cecil! Now!"
He trudged back up the creaky stairs, sighing and muttering to himself.
Honestly, it was easier after that. Fewer mouths to feed, less frustration. I even got a new job.
Then Mom showed back up, and things went to hell, but at least I didn't have that asshole hanging around. The rest of the town stared even more – I never wanted their disgust, their pity, their condescension, but that's all they seemed to have for me. That's what happens when you try to leave town, they muttered to each other right in front of me. That's what you get.
I was working nonstop, and when I wasn't, I just had time to cook something quick while I fell asleep at the table. I'm surprised I didn't burn the house down. I packed Cecil a lunch when I remembered and found the time. I coaxed Mom to eat when I could find her. I tried, I really tried, not to scream at her. She obviously came back because she couldn't make it on her own. She needed help. But she wouldn't let me help her. I didn't know what to do.
I don't know when the food started appearing on our doorstep. Not all the time, but at least a couple times a week. Big casserole dishes, roast chickens, piles of pastries, hamburgers, all kinds of things. And it didn't take me long to figure out who was bringing them. He couldn't sneak if his life depended on it.
"Steve Carlsberg!" I stood on the porch, holding my swelling belly, and felt the booming in my voice, a faint echo of that night when I'd run the other man off.
He froze and turned, laughing that silly laugh of his. "Oh, Abby! Didn't know you were home!"
"I doubt that. What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He looked so fake when he tried to play innocent. I jabbed my finger at the big tray of scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, hash browns, and scones.
"Oh, well… Um… I just made too much!" He giggled nervously.
"Try again."
"Uh. Um. Well, Abby… I know you're working really hard – I see you around town all the time, you just look dead on your feet! And I… I know how hard it was for me when I was taking care of my parents, back when they were around… It's…" His cheerful smile faltered. "Well, it's not the kind of thing you should have to do alone. Not that you can't! You're really amazing, you're the strongest person I know! But it's not easy. And I just thought, maybe it'd be nice if something was a little easier for you."
We stared at each other. Steve chuckled self-consciously.
"Okay. Well, I'll be going, I guess… Hope you have a good day!"
"Wait."
He looked at me. I looked back, panic rising in my throat. Why did I say that? I didn't want him to wait, I needed him to get out of here, away from me, out of my life… And I didn't understand why that innocent face, that silly smile, that… helpfulness without expecting a thing in return… were so terrifying. Not to mention, I barely knew him. I didn't know a thing about Steve Carlsberg. Maybe… maybe I'd like to, though.
"Come – do you… do you want to come in?" I stammered.
He smiled, and it seemed like the whole house around me relaxed a little. "Well sure, I'd love to! Thanks!"
It felt strange when I smiled back, like my face didn't know how to move that way anymore. "After all, it looks like we've got plenty of breakfast. If you're hungry."
Steve laughed all the way into the kitchen, carrying the food in for me, and it was… sweet, that was the word. He was sweet. We just sat at the table and talked, like two adults would, I guess. No adults I've ever known, but I've seen movies. He told me about his family, his life, what made him happy. He asked about me, and he didn't pry at places I didn't want to talk about, but when I was willing to share, he leaned forward and watched as I talked, nodding now and then, or asking a question about something I said. He listened. That was it, mostly. It was disconcerting.
When he finally left, he was cheerful as ever, smiling softly, even a little shyly. "Thanks for letting me come in for a while, Abby. I know you're busy, but… it's nice to have somebody to talk to sometimes, you know?"
I smiled back, and it was easier this time. "I know. Steve – next time you come by, knock on the door."
"Oh, well, I didn't want to bother you…"
"Right." Did that laugh come out of me? It felt like someone much younger. "Well, you're not bothering me. Come by any time, Steve. It'd be nice to talk again."
His face really can light up a room when he smiles. A whole house, even. When he left, I could still feel it lingering in the air, keeping the house a little brighter, keeping the darkness away a little longer.