"So your brother wants me to come over for dinner, huh?" Nicholas asked. It was Monday, and I couldn't put off asking him any longer. We were back in the coffee shop he had first taken me.
"Yeah. I haven't quite gotten around to asking him if he's cool with me going this weekend."
"You're still going though, right?"
"Yeah. How far is it?"
"About three hours. If we leave in the afternoon, we won't even have to deal with traffic."
"Okay. Do I need to bring anything?"
He shrugged. "Clothes might be a good idea, but I won't have any objection if you don't bring any."
I rolled my eyes. "Other than that."
"Nope. Everything's taken care of."
"What can I get for your sister?"
"You don't need to get her anything."
"Come on, Nicholas. It's her birthday. I have to get her something."
"No, you don't. It's not a big deal. We just use her as an excuse to get together."
"Okay. So, are you coming tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I'll head over after my last class."
"Okay."
"Are you okay? You seem nervous."
"Yeah, it's just. . . I don't know how my brother's going to react to you."
"Why? Is he overprotective?"
"He can be, but. . . okay, this may just be paranoia, but we've never really met each others friends, which is okay, because I did want to keep you all to myself. But. . . the truth is, no matter how great we are together. . . you still are five years older than me. And I don't care about that, especially not anymore, but he might. My friends might. Your family might. Your friends might. And I don't know how to make them understand that we really care about each other."
He got up, walked around the table, and crouched down beside me. "I understand what you're saying. And I've thought about it too. But whatever my friends and family think, I'm too invested to let that stop me from being with you. You were there for me during the worst time of my life, and you understood me when no one else could. So screw whatever other people think. They don't understand what we're about." He stood up, and put his hands on my shoulders. "This will work out, okay?"
"Promise?" I asked him.
"Promise."
"Promise me you won't pull anything tonight, okay?" I asked Dylan the next night while he was preparing dinner.
"Come on, Paige. When have you ever known me to do something like that?"
I put my hands on my hips. "Do I need to remind you of the ex-lax incident when I brought Jeff home?"
"It fell onto his dish! I swear!"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure. Just make sure that nothing falls into Nicholas's dish tonight, okay?"
"Fine."
"Thank you," I said cheerfully and quickly kissed his cheek. I heard Nicholas's car in the driveway. "Be nice."
"I will, I will." I went to the door and let him in.
"Hi," he said, kissing me. I said hi, and kissed him back. We let go, and I led him into the kitchen.
"Dylan? This is Nicholas." Nicholas let go of my hand, and extended it to Dylan. Dylan shook it, but he only looked Nicholas's face. They let go, and Dylan turned back to dinner. We stood around in silence. I exchanged glances with Nicholas, but no one said anything. This wasn't going to end well.
"So. . . Dylan, when's dinner going to be ready?" I eventually asked.
"It's ready."
We all sat down at the table, and I served everyone's drinks. We served ourselves in silence.
"So, Dylan, Paige sais you go to U of T. What program are you in?"
"Sports management," he replied in a clipped tone. "What are you doing?"
"I'm doing my honours in social work at Ryerson."
"Honours? As in fourth year?"
"Yeah."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty two."
Unlike when I had first asked Nicholas that very same question, this time he answered hesitantly. Dylan didn't look happy. I had lost my appetite, but I picked at my food.
"Can't get a date your own age?"
I dropped my fork and it clattered loudly against my plate. "Dylan!"
"What? What's a twenty-two year old doing with a seventeen year old?"
"Why does his age matter?"
"You don't see something wrong with this picture?"
"No, I don't."
"Paige," Nicholas said softly, putting his hand on mine. "It's okay."
"Not it's not!"
"Okay then, maybe your date can answer a question. How did the two of you meet?"
"My sister died the same day as your mother."
"You met him in the hospital?!"
"Yes. . . at first. . ." I stammered. "It wasn't anything like that. . . we met again afterwards and we started talking."
He took a deep breath. "Paige, can I talk to you alone for a minute?"
I mouthed 'sorry' to Nicholas, and followed Dylan into the kitchen. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Me?" I demanded, flabbergasted. "What am I doing?"
"He's five years older than you!"
"So what? He understand me. And he's been there for me. He understand what I'm going through."
"I understand what you're going through, Paige. I understand what you're fucking going through better than anyone else!"
"No you don't!" I felt an unexpected wave of sadness rush over me, and my eyes cloud up. When I spoke again, my words came out softly. "Ever since mom died, you've been able to handle things and keep moving. But I can't. I feel like I'm stuck. And I don't know how to deal with this or everything you told me about dad or my own personal stuff. So please, understand, that Nicholas is the only person who seems to understand this."
"Don't you see how wrong this is though?"
A tear silently fell down my cheek. "No, Dylan. I don't. Please explain it to me."
"You're better than this Paige. You're better than being with someone because you 'need' them. You're better than being in a relationship because you feel lonely. Come on, Paige, you're better than some guy who can't get another date his age!"
I didn't look at him. "Is that how you really feel about it?"
He hesitated. "Yeah. That's how I feel."
I nodded slowly, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. "Okay," I whispered, then walked out into the dining room. Nicholas stood up when I entered.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he whispered. I nodded. Without turning around, I heard Dylan enter the room.
"Paige," he started. I didn't look at him, but picked up my purse and jacket.
"Don't wait for me," I told him softly, and Nicholas and I slipped out the door silently.
"Do you want to talk?" Nicholas asked as we got into the car.
I shook my head. "Please, just drive."
We drove in silence for awhile. It could have been a couple of minutes. It could have been ten. It could have been an hour. Complete silence. We both concentrated ahead, even though he was the one driving. Occasionally, I was sure he was looking over at me, but he never said anything. Finally, he pulled into the parking lot of some park.
"What are we doing here?"
"Let's take a walk. You need it."
"I'm fine." Although I tried to say it confidently, my words came out shaky. He didn't comment on that, but instead got out of the car, then came around and opened my door. Grudgingly, I got out and took his extended hand.
We walked along in silence. I didn't recognize the park, but it looked pretty, even though there was slush all over the ground. The path had the odd clumps of packed snow, but it was fairly clear.
"I don't believe what he said."
"Which part?" Nicholas asked.
"All of it. He didn't know what he was talking about. . ."
"But?"
I sighed. "But this is what I knew was going to happen. No one understands. And Dylan was completely out of line."
"He's your brother."
I was surprised at how softly he said that. It was obvious, but he said it like it was something new. "Well, yeah."
He shook his head. "What I mean is that he's your only brother. He's what you have left. . . and if being with you gets in the way of you two. . . I can't do that. You're amazing, Paige, but I can't come between the two of you."
"It's not a big deal. Just. . . drop it, okay?"
And he did drop it. But I couldn't stop thinking about Dylan and how he was going to react when I came home. He was the only family I had left. Nicholas and I stayed awhile longer, until I finally asked him to take me home.
"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah," I replied. "And I'll be there on Friday."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow. . ."
"Okay." He pulled me in for a quick goodnight kiss, but I didn't enjoy it. The whole night had been too tense. I need to figure things out now. I didn't know how to react to him and to Dylan. And he probably didn't know how to react to me.
"You're back," was all Dylan said when I came in.
"You don't say." I sat down beside him on the couch, but didn't look at him. "Look, Dylan. I understand what you said today. But you need to know that you're totally wrong. That's not what it's about. At all. And I get that you're not happy about this, but I am. And it's been so long since I've been happy. . . whatever happens, Nicholas and I are staying together."
Dylan didn't say anything. I waited a minute, then two. Then I went upstairs, neither of us saying a word.
"Yeah. I haven't quite gotten around to asking him if he's cool with me going this weekend."
"You're still going though, right?"
"Yeah. How far is it?"
"About three hours. If we leave in the afternoon, we won't even have to deal with traffic."
"Okay. Do I need to bring anything?"
He shrugged. "Clothes might be a good idea, but I won't have any objection if you don't bring any."
I rolled my eyes. "Other than that."
"Nope. Everything's taken care of."
"What can I get for your sister?"
"You don't need to get her anything."
"Come on, Nicholas. It's her birthday. I have to get her something."
"No, you don't. It's not a big deal. We just use her as an excuse to get together."
"Okay. So, are you coming tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I'll head over after my last class."
"Okay."
"Are you okay? You seem nervous."
"Yeah, it's just. . . I don't know how my brother's going to react to you."
"Why? Is he overprotective?"
"He can be, but. . . okay, this may just be paranoia, but we've never really met each others friends, which is okay, because I did want to keep you all to myself. But. . . the truth is, no matter how great we are together. . . you still are five years older than me. And I don't care about that, especially not anymore, but he might. My friends might. Your family might. Your friends might. And I don't know how to make them understand that we really care about each other."
He got up, walked around the table, and crouched down beside me. "I understand what you're saying. And I've thought about it too. But whatever my friends and family think, I'm too invested to let that stop me from being with you. You were there for me during the worst time of my life, and you understood me when no one else could. So screw whatever other people think. They don't understand what we're about." He stood up, and put his hands on my shoulders. "This will work out, okay?"
"Promise?" I asked him.
"Promise."
"Promise me you won't pull anything tonight, okay?" I asked Dylan the next night while he was preparing dinner.
"Come on, Paige. When have you ever known me to do something like that?"
I put my hands on my hips. "Do I need to remind you of the ex-lax incident when I brought Jeff home?"
"It fell onto his dish! I swear!"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure. Just make sure that nothing falls into Nicholas's dish tonight, okay?"
"Fine."
"Thank you," I said cheerfully and quickly kissed his cheek. I heard Nicholas's car in the driveway. "Be nice."
"I will, I will." I went to the door and let him in.
"Hi," he said, kissing me. I said hi, and kissed him back. We let go, and I led him into the kitchen.
"Dylan? This is Nicholas." Nicholas let go of my hand, and extended it to Dylan. Dylan shook it, but he only looked Nicholas's face. They let go, and Dylan turned back to dinner. We stood around in silence. I exchanged glances with Nicholas, but no one said anything. This wasn't going to end well.
"So. . . Dylan, when's dinner going to be ready?" I eventually asked.
"It's ready."
We all sat down at the table, and I served everyone's drinks. We served ourselves in silence.
"So, Dylan, Paige sais you go to U of T. What program are you in?"
"Sports management," he replied in a clipped tone. "What are you doing?"
"I'm doing my honours in social work at Ryerson."
"Honours? As in fourth year?"
"Yeah."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty two."
Unlike when I had first asked Nicholas that very same question, this time he answered hesitantly. Dylan didn't look happy. I had lost my appetite, but I picked at my food.
"Can't get a date your own age?"
I dropped my fork and it clattered loudly against my plate. "Dylan!"
"What? What's a twenty-two year old doing with a seventeen year old?"
"Why does his age matter?"
"You don't see something wrong with this picture?"
"No, I don't."
"Paige," Nicholas said softly, putting his hand on mine. "It's okay."
"Not it's not!"
"Okay then, maybe your date can answer a question. How did the two of you meet?"
"My sister died the same day as your mother."
"You met him in the hospital?!"
"Yes. . . at first. . ." I stammered. "It wasn't anything like that. . . we met again afterwards and we started talking."
He took a deep breath. "Paige, can I talk to you alone for a minute?"
I mouthed 'sorry' to Nicholas, and followed Dylan into the kitchen. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Me?" I demanded, flabbergasted. "What am I doing?"
"He's five years older than you!"
"So what? He understand me. And he's been there for me. He understand what I'm going through."
"I understand what you're going through, Paige. I understand what you're fucking going through better than anyone else!"
"No you don't!" I felt an unexpected wave of sadness rush over me, and my eyes cloud up. When I spoke again, my words came out softly. "Ever since mom died, you've been able to handle things and keep moving. But I can't. I feel like I'm stuck. And I don't know how to deal with this or everything you told me about dad or my own personal stuff. So please, understand, that Nicholas is the only person who seems to understand this."
"Don't you see how wrong this is though?"
A tear silently fell down my cheek. "No, Dylan. I don't. Please explain it to me."
"You're better than this Paige. You're better than being with someone because you 'need' them. You're better than being in a relationship because you feel lonely. Come on, Paige, you're better than some guy who can't get another date his age!"
I didn't look at him. "Is that how you really feel about it?"
He hesitated. "Yeah. That's how I feel."
I nodded slowly, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. "Okay," I whispered, then walked out into the dining room. Nicholas stood up when I entered.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he whispered. I nodded. Without turning around, I heard Dylan enter the room.
"Paige," he started. I didn't look at him, but picked up my purse and jacket.
"Don't wait for me," I told him softly, and Nicholas and I slipped out the door silently.
"Do you want to talk?" Nicholas asked as we got into the car.
I shook my head. "Please, just drive."
We drove in silence for awhile. It could have been a couple of minutes. It could have been ten. It could have been an hour. Complete silence. We both concentrated ahead, even though he was the one driving. Occasionally, I was sure he was looking over at me, but he never said anything. Finally, he pulled into the parking lot of some park.
"What are we doing here?"
"Let's take a walk. You need it."
"I'm fine." Although I tried to say it confidently, my words came out shaky. He didn't comment on that, but instead got out of the car, then came around and opened my door. Grudgingly, I got out and took his extended hand.
We walked along in silence. I didn't recognize the park, but it looked pretty, even though there was slush all over the ground. The path had the odd clumps of packed snow, but it was fairly clear.
"I don't believe what he said."
"Which part?" Nicholas asked.
"All of it. He didn't know what he was talking about. . ."
"But?"
I sighed. "But this is what I knew was going to happen. No one understands. And Dylan was completely out of line."
"He's your brother."
I was surprised at how softly he said that. It was obvious, but he said it like it was something new. "Well, yeah."
He shook his head. "What I mean is that he's your only brother. He's what you have left. . . and if being with you gets in the way of you two. . . I can't do that. You're amazing, Paige, but I can't come between the two of you."
"It's not a big deal. Just. . . drop it, okay?"
And he did drop it. But I couldn't stop thinking about Dylan and how he was going to react when I came home. He was the only family I had left. Nicholas and I stayed awhile longer, until I finally asked him to take me home.
"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah," I replied. "And I'll be there on Friday."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow. . ."
"Okay." He pulled me in for a quick goodnight kiss, but I didn't enjoy it. The whole night had been too tense. I need to figure things out now. I didn't know how to react to him and to Dylan. And he probably didn't know how to react to me.
"You're back," was all Dylan said when I came in.
"You don't say." I sat down beside him on the couch, but didn't look at him. "Look, Dylan. I understand what you said today. But you need to know that you're totally wrong. That's not what it's about. At all. And I get that you're not happy about this, but I am. And it's been so long since I've been happy. . . whatever happens, Nicholas and I are staying together."
Dylan didn't say anything. I waited a minute, then two. Then I went upstairs, neither of us saying a word.
