Blake's POV
I got the call that morning - Jenny on the other end of the line - her voice breaking as she told me the news.
"Dad's dead."
I had been expecting to hear those words one day. Sooner rather than later. Still, I could feel the blood drain from my face as she told me what had happened. That night, after leaving our apartment, he had gone to some cheap motel and drowned his sorrows. He drank and drank and drank until his body simply quit. He passed out, choked on his own vomit, and died.
Ted's POV
Blake came into the bedroom around 6:30am, all colour drained from his face. "My dad's...My dad died." I was in shock, but the emotion he displayed from the previous night seemed to have disappeared and now there was just nothing. He told me the news like he was telling me about the weather, or his trip to the grocery store.
"What?" I said, springing from the bed and putting my arms around him while he stood there like a pillar in the middle of the ocean with his arms at his sides.
He didn't tell me any details, but for the fact that he needed to go to his "house" – not to his "home", but his "house". I convinced him to let me drive him there. He resisted at first, telling me that it was "okay", that he was "fine", and that he would get there on his own. He said he didn't want to "drag me" into everything. After a few minutes though, I got up my gumption and told him: "I'll drop you off and pick you up when you're ready, if that's what you want, but I'm driving."
Blake's POV:
I sat in the passenger seat trying to think of something, anything to say. The only sentences I did manage to mumble were brief directions and a request to turn on the radio. Anything to drown out my thoughts. I even resorted to tactile forms of diversion. Throughout the journey, I pressed the tips of my fingers against the window, waited until the blood drained from them, and watched as they turned white. For whatever reason, it helped.
I hadn't forgotten about the man seated to my left, of course. I could feel his eyes on me even as I stared out the window. About midway through the ride, he reached over and put his right hand on top of my left. I was grateful for his touch, even though I'm sure I didn't show it.
I saw the house come up on our right after about an hour on the road. It looked just as I remembered it, which wasn't a good thing. The sight of it alone made me uneasy. I hadn't set eyes on the place since I fled from it ten years ago. Any subsequent family gatherings were held at restaurants or in the homes of other relatives. Never in this place.
Ted's POV
After about an hour, we pulled up to his "house". From the outside, it didn't look too bad. A little rundown, sure, but still standing. I did wonder though, how in the world nine people ever fit under its roof. Not only was it small, it was a bungalow, contained entirely on one level. As I examined its exterior - the bright red door, the unkempt garden, the tiny, one gar garage with chipped brown paint – I saw a young woman in a blue t-shirt exit out the front door. I knew it had to be Jenny. She was petite, blonde, and looked to be about the right age. I heard Blake take in a deep breath before he got out the car and walked towards her.
I still wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. He hadn't given me any official instructions. Was I to hide from view, stay, leave? I wasn't sure. So I watched them for a moment. They hugged without even stopping to say hello. Blake's back was to me, but I could clearly see that she was emotional, and understandably so. When they parted, she looked up at him carefully, as if to examine his every feature. I knew the exact moment she spotted his bruised eye. Her face turned sad, but there wasn't a hint of shock in her expression. She just sighed deeply, her shoulders rose and fell, and she hugged him again.
When they parted for a second time, I saw Blake's hand drift up to her face. I smiled as I watched him wipe away a tear from her cheek.
I decided then that I had better at least get out of the car, no matter how nervous I was. It seemed rude not to, and Blake had left his cell phone sitting on the passenger seat. I walked around to the lawn to escape any oncoming cars and that's when she spotted me.
She walked briskly toward me. "You must be Ted" she said, wiping another tear from her cheek. I noticed her smile right away. She and Blake looked similar, but when they smiled, they may as well have been twins. Truthfully, I couldn't even believe she was capable of that sort of smile on a day like this, but there she was, grinning up at me as her eyes shimmered with tears.
"That's me" I said awkwardly, trying to find some appropriate balance between sympathy and positivity. "You must be Jenny."
"That's right" she said, smiling even wider.
Then she asked to hug me. She said, "I'm sorry. Can I hug you? I'm a hugger."
I smiled and stammered awkwardly, not at all expecting the question. By the time I said "sure", her arms were already around me. I had no idea why she wanted to hug me, but I was more than happy to return the gesture.
When she let go, she took my right hand between both of hers. "It's amazing to finally meet you", she said with this genuine sort of brightness that once again reminded me of her brother.
"It's amazing to meet you too" I said, echoing her words mainly because I was too overwhelmed and nervous to think of my own. "I...I...I'm just sorry it had to happen under these circumstances. I'm so sorry about your fa-". Before I could finish stuttering out my condolences, she patted the top of my hand, which still sat sandwiched in her grasp. "It's okay. I'm happy to meet you no matter the circumstances."
I smiled back at her and then I remembered my deal with Blake. "Um, I was just going to drop Blake off" I admitted, feeling cowardly for running off so quickly. I wasn't sure whether Blake had changed his mind about wanting me there, let alone in his house. "I don't want to intrude or anything. I'm sure you'd like to be together as a family."
"You wouldn't be intruding at all", she assured me with smile. "Actually, we could really use your help. It's just going to be Blake and I - for a while at least. Our mom's out picking up Gracie. I hate to put you to work but..."
"Oh, sure. If you need me, I'm here" I said, smiling more than I should have, while glancing nervously between her and Blake.
Then she gazed up at me for a moment before turning to her brother. "You were right about his eyes" she said, returning her gaze to me.
I looked over at Blake, confused. Were my eyes red? Bulgy? Funny looking?
"He always says you have the most incredible eyes", she told me. "He was right. Those are some world record lashes".
I lowered my head almost instantly. Compliments from anyone other than Blake were rare, although I guess, in a way, this one had come from him too. "Oh...I...I don't know about that, but thank you", I said. "Both of you".
Blake's POV
I didn't want him there. Dragged into all my problems. Again. But now I didn't have a choice, because for a moment, they were both happy and I couldn't ruin that, no matter how much I wanted to tell him to escape while he still could. Watching them smile, I almost forgot why I was there. Then Jenny suggested we head into the house.
Ted let me walk ahead of him. I felt his hand on my back and was grateful, once again, for his touch. It feels stupid to say that my heart was pounding, but it was. I had avoided this place for over a decade, determined never to set foot within its walls again, but there I was, heading straight for the front door.
We made it to the porch when my sister turned around to face me. "Listen, don't freak out, but he made a bit of a mess last night. I've been tidying up for a while, but it's still a bit of disaster."
A bit of a mess. A bit of a disaster. I knew better. "Gracie wasn't here was she? Last night?" That's all I wanted to know.
She shook her head. "She was at a friend's for the night."
Relieved, I followed behind her as she opened the door.
As soon as the smell from inside hit my nostrils, I felt queasy. I paused in the doorframe, so briefly that was sure it was undetectable, but then I felt Ted's hand on my back again.
It was that smell – a mixture of booze, cigarettes, and this horrible cologne my father wore. Even in his absence, the place still smelled like him. It must have seeped its way into the walls or something.
I almost laughed when Ted went to take off his shoes.
"Oh, you can leave those on" my sister told him. "Actually, it's probably better if you do. There's a bit of –"
She waved her hand toward the living room and that's when I saw a pile of broken glass sitting on the carpet. I wasn't sure where it had come from, but then my eyes fixed on what looked like the bottom half of a scotch glass. In his drunken state, he must have shattered every one he owned, and left the shards in a pile on the middle of the living room floor.
"Sorry about that" I heard my sister say to Ted. "I was just about to clean it up when I heard your car out front."
When I finally looked up from the floor, she had a broom in her hand – yellow handle with brown bristles – the same one I had used when I called this place home. Suddenly, he was screaming at me again. Not until you clean that shit up off the floor!
"I'll do it" I said, half answering the voice in my head.
"It's okay. You just got here." My sister was quick to object, but I was quicker.
"Seriously, I got it" I told her, taking the broom from her hand.
Ted's POV:
We had only just stepped inside and already he had a broom in his hand, visibly intent on cleaning up his father's mess.
"I'll get you the dust pan then" his sister said, disappearing into the kitchen. As soon as she returned and handed it to him, he went to work.
We both stood there and watched him for a minute, as a strange tension enveloped the room.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" Jenny asked, clearly doing her best to lighten the atmosphere.
"Oh no, that's alright" I answered, smiling though my eyes were half fixed on Blake.
"I think I'll start some coffee, just in case." She disappeared into the kitchen again. She seemed to know how and when to give him space. I, on the other hand, didn't.
As soon as she left the room, I crouched down beside him and reached for the dust pan. "Here...let me help you with that", I said. But he held the dustpan firmly in place and said, "I'm fine" in this stern, almost robotic voice. There it was again – that word – "fine". I should have backed off right then, but I just hovered there. "Seriously, Ted! I've got it, okay?" he barked out.
Within moments I heard his sister return from the kitchen. She must have heard the tone in his voice. "You sure you don't want some coffee?" she asked, no doubt trying to pull me away before I pushed him any further.
"Actually, I will have some, thanks" I said, standing up and taking her queue.
Blake's POV
I know how to sweep a floor. You don't need to supervise me, I wanted to say. Like I was seventeen again, and he was watching me, with that smirk of superiority plastered on his face.
When I heard Ted go into the kitchen with Jenny, I could finally breathe again. Just as soon as I exhaled, I closed my eyes and cursed at myself. Why did I have to snap at him? All I could do now was finish cleaning the floor as a feeling of regret filled my gut.
I joined them in the kitchen when I was done.
"Hey. Do you want some?" my sister asked, putting her coffee mug in the sink. But they had already finished drinking, and I didn't feel like standing around talking. "What else can I do?" I asked, wanting more than anything to be kept me busy.
"Well," she said, "You could clean out dad's things from the bedroom. Mom's orders. She wants his clothes to go to Goodwill. Or you could help me move some stuff in the basement."
I answered instantly. "I'll take the bedroom." There was no way I was going in that basement.
"Okay" my sister said, turning to Ted. "Would you mind giving me a hand in the basement, Ted?"
He said "sure", like I knew he would. He looked hesitant to leave my side though, so I mustered the most reassuring smile I could and then headed down the hallway.
That's when I saw it. A gaping hole in the wall just outside my old bedroom.
"Is this new?" I called out to my sister, hoping she would say no.
She turned the corner down the hallway and all she did was nod as her eyes filled with sadness.
Suddenly, everything started to make sense - my father's hand, the dried blood on his knuckles. This was how he'd done it. This. Not some accident at work. It seemed so obvious now. The minute the hole he made years ago gets fixed, he decides to make a new one.
Ted's POV
I followed Jenny and turned the corner. That's when a wave of guilt came over me. How could I have been so unbelievably gullible? This was how Walt had hurt his hand. I had shown him sympathy, when all he had really done was put his fist through some drywall.
I watched as Blake rested his forehead against the wall and sighed. "I'll fix this before I go", he said, determined once again to clean up the mess his father left behind. My heart broke for him.
"We're out of plaster", Jenny told him.
"Well, I'll go get some" he insisted, nearly rushing out the front door before she stopped him.
"No, no. Stay, okay?" she said, grabbing on to his forearm. "We'll worry about it later. Besides, it's not like he can make another one." She smiled when she said it, but her eyes filled with tears.
It wasn't until Blake came over and hugged her that I felt I really was intruding, despite what she had assured me. This was his family. His blood. Not mine. And I knew there was so much in that hug I couldn't possibly ever understand.
Soon, she and I were in the basement. All there was down there was an old television set, a dusty lamp, and a recliner with a small table to one side.
We busied ourselves moving some boxes out of a storage closet. I knew I should have made an effort to talk with her, but I had no idea what to say to someone on the day their father died. She seemed content with the silence though, much to my relief.
In fact, relief was what seemed to fill the whole house. There was sadness of course, but also this air of relief, almost as if a cloud had been lifted from above. There was no sense of shock either. It was like both she and Blake had been expecting this day to come for their entire lives.
In the quietness between Jenny and I, I couldn't help but think of Blake. I imagined what must be going through his head, and what expression must be etched on his face as he cleared out his father's clothing from the bedroom. Every time Jenny looked away, I craned my neck to the side and peered up the stairs, hoping I might see him there.
I jumped when, out of nowhere, she spoke. "He'll be fine", she said with a soft smile. "He always is."
She must have spotted me staring. "Sorry" I said, filling with embarrassment.
"Don't apologize", she told me. "It's nice. You really care about him".
She was right, I thought, as I smiled like a nervous fool. I thought this would be the extent of our conversation, but she put down the box she was holding and came over to me.
"Listen...", she said. "I just want to thank you for everything you did for him. He was really...lost...for a... really long time." It took her a few seconds to choose the word: "lost". I couldn't help but think about how accurately it described the boy I had met on Liberty Avenue six years earlier. "Lost" - drifting along, with no real sense of place, or permanence, or security. It was like he was floating, living day to day, with no real expectation that he would see tomorrow.
"We were never there for him like we should've been", she said. "I don't know... I don't know what would've happened to him if it wasn't for you caring about him the way you did – the way you do." I listened, speechless as her eyes filled with emotion again. There was an earnest quality to her voice as she spoke, like she really wanted me to hear her. It was the same tone Blake had when he first thanked me for "being so nice" all those years ago. She had the same look of conviction in her eyes as he did too.
"I just wish there was some way we could repay you", she told me. "Not that we have much money, but if there's anything you ever need..."
Oh. No, no", I said, stopping her before she could go on. "Trust me. Blake's given me just as much – more - than I ever gave him. If it wasn't for him, I don't think I'd be standing here right now."
She smiled lightly and nodded. "It's just, you know...he always got the worst of it from dad. And I know that's why he left. This is the first time he's been back in this house since then."
I didn't even want to imagine what "the worst of it" was, or just how bad it had to be for him to decide to disappear from his family. "When did he leave?" I asked cautiously.
"August 14th 1998." I shuttered when she told me the exact date, not only because she remembered it after all this time, but because I realised that today was nearly nine years to the day that he first left home.
"August is never really a happy time in this place" she told me with a smile, as she lifted another box out of the closet.
Blake's POV:
I was sitting in my parents' bedroom with a bag of his clothes in my right hand. I still couldn't believe I was here. In this house. In this room. Touching his clothes. Everything smelled like him, not just the clothes - the walls, the sheets, the carpet, the air. Everything. It didn't even feel like he was gone, and I didn't know whether that made me happy or sad.
Suddenly my shoulders tensed as I heard the front door slam shut. It was them. My mother and the young girl to whom I owed the entire world – Gracie.