Charlie put the belt on the dresser, opened a drawer, and tossed some sweatpants and a t-shirt to Bailey.
"Tell me when you're dressed," Charlie said simply.
After a bit of rustling and a slight groan, he heard, "Okay. Ready."
When he turned back around, Charlie saw his little brother sitting on his bed, shoulders slumped, head down and occasionally wiping away tears. Every instinct within him was screaming to bolt, but he repeated internally, "Be like Dad. Be like Dad."
Slowly, he moved to the bed and sat down next to Bailey. He reached over and gently pulled his brother into a hug. Relief overwhelmed him when Bailey did not resist and even hugged Charlie back.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," cried Bailey. Charlie hugged him closer and whispered, "I know, I know" as soothingly as possible.
"Do you think they're watching?" Bailey asked, barely able to get the words out.
Shocked, Charlie felt tears running down his face too. "Yes," he whispered, "but they understand, Bailey. They have complete understanding and love now. They're not mad."
The boys clung to each other as a wave of grief swept over them. Finally the tears subsided.
"Are you okay, Bay?"
The teenager let go of his brother and chuckled, "You mean apart from never being able sit again?"
"You're sitting now, aren't you?" Charlie teased. "Let's get some breakfast in you. Scrambled eggs and bacon, or maybe some of that delicious cereal of Owen's."
Bailey made a disgusted face, but laughed.
"Eggs and bacon then."
As Charlie made the breakfast, Bailey leaned on the bar, choosing not to sit. They chatted about sports in general, an upcoming baseball tournament of Bailey's, and who made the best rigatoni—Baiano's or Carlin's.
"You're crazy! Carlin's, hands down!" Bailey laughed.
"To each his own. All I know is at Baiano's I can get my weight in rigatoni. For like $10!" Charlie handed his little brother a plate loaded with eggs, bacon, and buttered toast.
"Yum! Thanks, Char."
After several bites and relaxed silence, Bailey said, somewhat awkwardly, "So… you never…."
"Never drove drunk? No. But I did other equally stupid stuff," Charlie said somberly.
"Like what?"
"Umm, sneaking out. Only to find Dad in my bed when I snuck back in."
Bailey made a face and laughed.
"When I was 11, I had a bonfire with some friends in the backyard and ended up burning most of the yard. That could have been way worse."
"Oh, I think I remember that! All those fire trucks in front of the house!"
"Do you remember Dad spanking me in front of everyone?"
"No, not really. Sounds harsh."
"Maybe," said Charlie, "But it was hardly the worst."
Bailey looked at his brother expectantly and waited.
"Okay, but don't forget to eat. I know you hate cold eggs, and I don't want to have to make more." Charlie smiled.
"The worst punishment I ever got from Mom or Dad was just after Owen was born."
Bailey spit out his eggs. "What?" he coughed. "Last year!"
"Gross, Bailey! …Yeah," grimaced his brother. "Mom was performing in Chicago—her first job away since Owen—and Dad asked me to watch O while he was at work."
Charlie stopped talking, obviously having a hard time remembering. "Well, O was boring and slept most of the time, so I decided to waste a few hours smoking pot. I lost track of time…. Dad came home to find Owen screaming and me in the basement zoned out. I didn't even have the baby monitor turned on."
Bailey could imagine his father's fury. He shuddered.
"He grabbed me by the ear and yanked me up the stairs. I had an urge to fight him off, but I saw he was carrying Owen."
Charlie turned away and started washing dishes. Bailey wolfed down the rest of his food and went to his brother's side.
"He made me sit on the couch while he fed Owen, then bathed and changed him, and rocked him to sleep. As he rocked him, Dad questioned me, 'How long have you been smoking pot? Have you ever smoked in this house before? Do the other kids know you smoke?' I answered like a million questions like that."
Charlie looked at Bailey and said in an amazed tone, "Now that I think about it, that scene is almost funny. Dad was pissed, of course, but all his questions were asked in this gentle, soothing manner so he didn't wake Owen."
The twenty-four-year-old continued, "Anyway, he finally went to put Owen down and I thought about running. But I just stayed. Dad had his belt off before he even got back downstairs."
As he put away the dried dishes, Charlie stopped talking again. Bailey waited patiently, not knowing if the story was over.
"He'd never whipped me like that before…."
"What do you mean? Pants down and everything?"
"No—that'd he done several times before. I mean in anger. It was awful."
Suddenly, Bailey was annoyed. "Yeah, well, you deserved it," he said certainly.
Charlie glanced at his brother. "I know," he said quietly. "I wasn't defending myself."
"And I did too, Charlie. I know I was wrong. And it'll never happen again."
"I'm so glad to hear you say that."
"And what happened when Mom got home?" Bailey said suddenly.
"You mean from Chicago? That was just as bad. Dad went to pick her up from the airport. Before he left, he told me to stay in my old room until they got back. I could hear all of you greeting her at the door. Her laughing and everyone talking at once. Later, she came up to my room. No knock, just came in quietly. I stood when the door opened and she walked over to me with this intense look on her face. She slapped me—twice."
Bailey gasped.
"I actually begged her to spank me or whip me or something. So she could forgive me and I could forgive myself. But she refused. She said she did not agree with Dad's actions, though she understood his reaction. She told me that she loved me, but she did not always like my choices. I'd have to earn her trust back over time."
Charlie looked so sad that Bailey patted his back. Finally, he continued, "I'd rather have had a spanking. But I tried harder to earn her trust back because she didn't let me off the hook quickly."
Bailey smiled and Charlie cocked his head questioningly. "What?"
"Um, maybe it's just the timing, but I really think you must've forgotten how bad it feels." Charlie grinned.
"You'll survive, Bay. In a day or so, you'll feel fine. Until then…stay out of trouble."
"Ok. Will do. …Hey, where is everybody?"
"Jules and Claud went to a classical music festival. And Kirsten and Owen went to the store, I think. And I have to finish sanding that sleigh bed for Bruce Curran."
"Do you want any help?"
"Sure, Bay, that would be great. Thanks!"
