Part II

"I think the one you picked out is perfect, Sodapop. I love it."

Soda climbed into the driver's seat of his pickup while Olivia got in the passenger side, the pair leaving the jewelry store. "I sure hope so. I want her to be happy."

Olivia watched as Soda opened the gray velvet box that held the ring he'd soon give Mallory, three white jewels staring up at him from a silver band. "You said you wanted a lady's eye, but you hardly even needed it."

"Yeah, I guess I didn't." Soda closed the box as he imagined the moment he'd propose to Mallory. He was almost ashamed to admit the anxiety it created in his mind, the excitement also lingering underneath the nervousness. "But it still helps me a lot to know you approve."

"Does Steve know yet that you're planning to propose soon?"

"He does. Not that we've talked about it much yet though."

"Oh? You mean there's a topic you and my husband haven't taken a deep dive into?"

"It's comin'. Trust me." Soda slipped the ring into the compartment under the radio then started the truck. "There's plenty to explore beneath that surface."

"You don't need to get up, Dad. I got it."

Nicholas felt Steve's hand that gently pushed him back down into his living room recliner, his son then heading to the kitchen. "I'm capable of making a sandwich, Son."

Steve didn't disagree, even as he took out the bread, lunch meat, and mayonnaise himself. "I know, but you just got home yesterday. I'm here, so let me help. Besides, you probably shouldn't be on your feet too much anyway."

Nicholas sighed, as he'd truly grown tired of feeling so dependent on those around him. "Maybe not. But I am a week post-surgery, and I've been up quite a bit already."

Steve brought the turkey sandwich he'd made over to Nicholas, unfolding a TV table and setting the plate on top. "I know you have, but think of it like this: You've helped make life easier for me before, so now it's my turn to do the same for you."

"I do appreciate it, Steve. I didn't mean to sound like I don't."

"Which is another thing I know. Now, what else needs to be done around here?"

"Son, you don't have to-"

Before his dad could get any further, Steve had opened the closet where there was an array of cleaning supplies. "You know what? I think I'll sweep and vacuum then polish up the furniture. And maybe- Where's the Windex? Oh, here it is. I'll do the windows too."

Nicholas watched Steve get to work, speechless, as he saw part of himself in the son he'd raised, certain that he'd have to point this out at a later time.

Steve focused on tidying up the kitchen first, moving the broom along the tile floor and making sure he didn't miss a single spot. "So, how's the sandwich, Dad? Are you still hungry? Do I need to make something else too?"

Nicholas had eaten about half the sandwich in front of him and was now finishing the rest. "It's fine, Son. You don't need to make anything else. I'm good."

Steve's feet moved in a dance around the kitchen as he swept the dirt he'd collected into a dustpan. "Are you sure? 'Cause I can-"

"I'm sure." As Nicholas finished eating, he slid the folding table out of the way and stood up to take his plate to the kitchen. "I ate quite a bit at breakfast earlier. Audrey made pancakes, bacon, and eggs."

When Steve saw Nicholas walking, he dropped the broom and ran to grab the plate. "I got it. You can sit back down. Do you need a drink?"

Nicholas remained on his feet, taking himself to the kitchen. "Yes, and I'll get it myself. Please relax, Steve. I need someone here with me, but that doesn't mean you have to do everything. I'm recovering well, so let me behave like it. I'm still a grown man, for crying out loud. I don't need constant help." Opening the freezer, Nicholas added ice to his glass then filled it with water. He had taken a seat at the table before he stopped to notice the expression on Steve's face, his son's features unable to hide the hurt. "I'm sorry, Son. I shouldn't have been so harsh. I know how much you need to be active in helping, and I also love that about you."

Steve looked down at himself and at the broom he'd so quickly put aside, the moment triggering a memory not entirely unlike the present. "I'm doing what you did, Dad. I'm looking for stuff to do because I'm worried. I'm cleaning because I'm still scared."

"I already had the same thought. I remember being scared that I'd still end up losing you in the time after your overdose. I remember how I'd do anything I could just to be busy and distract myself from the anxiety. Even though those things couldn't do much for you directly."

Steve grinned as he sat down in the chair beside Nicholas'. "Well, I did get some good food out of it, if I remember correctly."

"Indeed you did. But cooking, cleaning, organizing, those didn't let me cope with how I was feeling. They just made sure I could push it back down inside. Nothing was resolved."

"You sound like you should be the counselor."

"Only because I learned from the best. I won't tell you not to be scared, Son. Especially not when I am too."

"You're scared now? But you always sound so sure about recovering."

"Yes. But that comes with a whole different kind of fear because I have to get back to living. I had a heart attack, but life still has to find its way back to some kind of normal. As much as it's not the same, I think you know a little bit about what I mean."

"Yeah. I definitely do." Steve left his chair to put the broom and dustpan back in the closet, literally and symbolically closing the door on a coping mechanism he knew could get him nowhere. He then returned to the table, contemplating the fact that there was so much more to his internal state than what could be summed up by the concept of fear.

"Penny for your thoughts, Son?"

Steve's eyes turned to Nicholas, seeing not only the man who'd brought him into this world, but also the father who had been through a lot that most parents couldn't fathom. "I just can't believe it sometimes."

"Believe what?"

"That we're here. That we've made it this far."

Nicholas noticed the wistful expression on Steve's face, practically able to feel his son drifting away from him as the past they both knew swept into the moment. "And we'll make it farther still. Right beside each other in a way that feels like it's always been."

Steve felt himself start to sink into a reverie that had more power than he'd ever want to give it. "My fear came to life, Dad. It stared me right in the face, and I couldn't look anywhere else. And I did something I really shouldn't have. Something bad."

Nicholas' eyebrows raised at this, reminding himself that he had to be calm as he probed his son further. "What do you mean, Son? What did you do?"

"I'm doing better now, but last weekend, I got so stuck inside my own head that I was blaming myself for your heart attack. I kept thinking that I must have missed something, you know? Because I was with you all day."

"I don't think there was anything for you to miss, Steve. I didn't even know that something was wrong, so how could you?"

"I know. I know it wasn't logical, but it's how I felt anyway. I was scared and everything felt out of control, so I had to find a way to make some sense out of it. It's still this natural reaction for me to feel guilty when something hurts. I was so scared of losing you when I was a teenager, but this time, it almost actually happened."

Nicholas lifted a hand to touch Steve's face, the battle a familiar one as he sought to free his son of any remaining guilt or blame. "It did, but it wasn't anyone's fault. Not yours or mine. No one's at all."

Steve grasped Nicholas' wrist, holding on to the touch that tangibly reminded him his dad hadn't gone anywhere. "Did you have symptoms at the wedding or the reception, Dad? Because I don't want you to ever ignore anything when it comes to your health. Not even if it means interrupting a special day to make sure you get the help you need."

"I did have symptoms during the reception, but I only see that in hindsight. I wasn't trying to ignore them or put the occasion before my health, I promise."

"Okay. I guess I just got that idea 'cause you seemed set on sending me off on my honeymoon even when you weren't well. So I thought that maybe could mean there were other times you were putting yourself last. I didn't want to say this while you were still in the hospital, but it made me angry to think of you doing that. I would hate for you to risk jeopardizing your health."

Nicholas moved his hand down to Steve's shoulder, watching his son's eyes that told him almost as much as his words. "And I didn't. It's okay if you were angry at me though. If the roles were reversed, I might have been too. But it's like I said before, I really wanted to be okay, and I was being stubborn about it for as long as I could. Even once I knew I needed to go to the hospital, I wasn't ready to give that up just yet."

Steve reached out and touched the front of Nicholas' shirt, feeling the bandage that was underneath the buttons, its edges peeking out near his neckline. "One time, I told Soda that having a scar meant he'd survived. It's true for you too. You didn't just live, you won."

"So what do you think? Did I pick the right one?"

Steve admired the ring Soda had chosen for his soon-to-be fiancee before handing the box back to his best friend. "Of course you did. Especially if Liv says so. But I think you could go pick a rock from the ground outside, and Mallory would be thrilled."

Soda tucked the velvet box back in the corner of his dresser drawer for safe keeping. "I hope you're right. About her bein' thrilled, I mean. But speakin' of that, there's somethin' else I want to talk to you about. It's been on my mind for a little while, but there ain't exactly been a great time this past week."

"Okay. So talk to me now. What's up?"

Soda led Steve over to the desk he'd set up in his room, the shelves laden with paperwork and financial statements, plus a stack of magazines. He took the chair in front of it as his friend sat on the foot of the bed. "I'm so damn anxious, Stevie. When I think about how I'll propose, my heart feels heavy, and the rest of my body... It feels like I'll go into a panic at any minute. It's already worse since I got the ring."

"All right. Well, an engagement is a pretty big deal, buddy. It makes sense if you're a bundle of nerves about it."

"Yeah, but it's more than that. I'm not just normal nervous. I've proposed twice in my life, and I wouldn't change it now or anything, but rememberin' those times hurts. It's scary to be doin' this again, even though I don't have a reason to think Mallory would say no."

"So this isn't just anticipatory anxiety or excitement we're talking about, it's fear."

"I guess so. But I don't get why. I know she loves me, and ours ain't a high school romance or a relationship that can only take us so far. I'm scared anyway though just 'cause I've been rejected before, and I never want to feel that way again."

"You just answered your own question then. You do know why you're scared, even if it doesn't line up with how you think you should see things logically. The fear is a reaction based on the past, so of course-"

"This ain't what I need right now, Steve." Soda got up from his chair and went back over to the dresser. His hands touched the framed photos that were on top, pictures of his loved ones still an anchor for him after all this time. "I love how you're an amazing counselor, but that's not the person I'm needin' today."

Without even having to think about it, Steve followed behind Soda, his eyes roaming over the images that decorated the dresser, many of them reminders of years past. "Okay. Which one do you need then? You know I can switch gears as necessary."

Soda's fingers grazed a picture of himself holding baby Elijah as Emily smiled along with him, so excited to be a big sister. "I just need my friend. The one who always listens and shows he cares." His hands then moving on to another picture, Soda stared at an image of him with his brothers, Steve included. Next to it was a photo of both Olivia and Mallory, his eyes drawn to it as well. "I need the Steve who comforts me and goes with me into all of those dark places anytime I need somebody to be there. I don't need answers or analyzin'. Just love."

"I understand, my brother." Steve gazed upon the pictures that featured Soda, the man's on-top-of-the-world smile ironically a reminder that his highs could be coupled with the lowest of lows. Putting a hand on his best friend's shoulder, Steve changed his approach to the situation. "I have so much confidence in you, buddy. You'll overcome this anxiety. I just know it."

Soda's eyes moved from the pictures to Steve, the hand on his shoulder a dose of the love he knew he was needing. "When I said I didn't get why I'm like this, I meant that I just don't think rejected proposals should be a trauma. I mean, I was sixteen with Sandy and still only eighteen with Penny, and I wasn't even askin' for the right reasons then either."

"But your heart was in the right place. And you know what else?"

"What?"

"You have the same heart that you did back then. The same sensitive and loving soul."

"Yeah, but maybe a little too sensitive." Soda went back over to the desk chair and sat down once again, hands framing his face as the loops of unpleasant memories played through his mind. He imagined kneeling before Mallory, just the thought making him start to shake and sweat. "If I wasn't, none of this could bother me. I would be just fine."

"Possibly. But you didn't let me finish." Steve moved closer to Soda, hands gripping the arm rests of the chair as he made sure to be eye-level with his friend. "You also have the same strength that's gotten you through a thousand different tough times. You have the same capacity for healing and peace, so I have no doubt that when the day comes for you to propose, you'll be able to take a breath and feel all that fear melt away."

"But what about right now, Stevie? What do I do till that moment comes?"

Steve didn't miss a beat, responding to the desperation in Soda's voice by drawing him close, arms holding his friend as he spoke softly. "You lean on me whenever you need to. Let yourself feel what's there without deciding it shouldn't be. It'll only make you more anxious if you judge that pain."

Soda fought to calm himself, but he could feel his head spinning as he gripped Steve in return. "But I'm bein' so dramatic. I should be excited. I know Mallory wants to marry me, and I want to marry her too."

"Yeah, I know you do, buddy."

"But it's a lot, you know? Just thinkin' about bein' a husband. And havin' kids I'll be raisin'. It's everything I've ever wanted. My life will finally mean somethin'."

"Your life already means plenty. Always has. I hope you haven't fallen back into believing otherwise."

"No. I haven't. I just... I've always wanted those things to be part of me. I want a wife and kids. A home that's ours. But I hope I can be what I should. I hope I can be enough."

"You'll be amazing, brother. I know because every role you've ever had in life, you've knocked it right out of the park. You've never fallen short in any relationship, and you'll be the same in marriage and as a parent. Believe me, I know where it can all make you feel insecure, but you've got this. Mallory is getting the best guy in the world for a husband."

Soda felt himself begin to calm down, the roots of his anxiety revealing themselves as he again contemplated the long-ago times when he'd proposed to women who had only loved him for a season. His intentions had always been pure, but also misguided, partially driven by fear and a low sense of self-worth. "I don't think I'm really scared of bein' rejected when I propose to Mallory. This is all just feelings from the past comin' into the present. I asked Sandy to marry me when I was a grievin' kid still scared of what would happen to us. I asked Penny when I was strugglin' after the shooting. So it's like I connect the idea of marriage with all that emotional pain."

"You're making so much sense right now, buddy." Steve pulled away from Soda, nearly bursting with pride in his best friend. "You feel better, don't you? I can practically feel it radiating off you myself. You did the analyzing all on your own too and got where you need to be."

"Yeah. I guess I did. And I do feel better. Like maybe I can even enjoy plannin' the occasion now."

"Absolutely! You helped me surprise Liv with her ring, so now it's my turn to help you do the same for Mallory. When do you think you'll propose?"

"Well, if I really want it to be a surprise, I should do it during the week."

"Yeah. Catch her off guard."

"And she knows I've been pretty preoccupied since your dad got sick, so she's probably not expectin' it now at all."

"Which will make the moment even better. I know you'll be sure to make it special. So how about this? Me and you go out together one night. Liv can take Mallory to get her nails done or something. It'll look like a guys' night and a girls' night."

"I was plannin' to just take her out and ask, but I like where it sounds like this idea is going, Stevie."

"Of course you do. You wouldn't let my proposal be dull, so I won't let yours be either." Steve's memory drifted back to Easter Sunday of 1976, remembering how a family egg hunt had given him the perfect opportunity to propose to Olivia. She'd had no idea what he was up to as he and Soda set about hiding colored eggs around the Evans' yard. "We can keep it simple but still make the night a memorable one."

Soda laughed as he observed the thoughtful expression on Steve's face. "Man, you're more into this than I am."

"Hey, I've gotta be. So you can give me the credit when Mallory says yes."

"Give you the credit, huh? Boy, you're gettin' even cockier in your old age. What am I going to do with you?"

Steve smiled along with Soda, the joy he was feeling for his best friend nearly immeasurable. "Indulge me, buddy. Especially after this past week, you know I deserve it. Almost as much as you deserve to be happy in life. So here's how it'll go: We'll show up wherever the ladies are, acting as casual as possible. Then, you two will steal away for a private moment and you'll pop the question."

"Steal away? Nice theatric touch there, Stevie."

"Yeah, I must've missed my calling as a director." As much as Steve could see the authentic change which had taken place in Soda over the last few minutes, he was skeptical that the anxiety would remain quenched. Given this, he took a moment to offer his friend an extra boost of affection by clasping the back of his neck. "If you start to feel it again, please come to me, all right? That's nothing you need to be alone with, and you know I understand how anxiety can get."

"Of course I'll come to you. I did today, didn't I? This won't be like the last time, I promise. I won't hide stuff."

"You read my mind, brother. I couldn't help but think of that."

"'Cause your mind is like a damn catalogue what with trackin' and connectin' everything."

"To be fair, that's pretty much my job these last few years."

"Aw, but you did it with me way before you were an actual licensed counselor."

"True."

Soda sensed the security and confidence that Steve emanated, two traits he wore so well most days, with only particular circumstances triggering relapses. "You just had that one flashback, right? No more of them?"

"Yeah. I just had the one out by the hospital fountain. I don't know how many times I've thought I was free of them. But I never am. They're still a fact of life. Still a part of me, even as a grown and married man with a college education and a career."

"I'm sure you'd tell your clients that's 'cause the good and healthy things in your life now don't erase the trauma from back then."

"Right you are, buddy. The present can't make the trauma go away, but it does do a lot to make it manageable." Steve's eyes drifted to the spot on Soda's dresser that held a picture of the two of them as teenagers, this one taken at the DX only months after his suicide attempt. "And it also does a lot to make life worth living."