"I'm so sorry, Steve. If I had ever suspected he'd react with that kind of intensity, I would've warned you against bringing it up with him."
Steve had pulled Samuel aside after church, the two seated on the altar as he filled the pastor in on how the meeting with Chris had gone. "You had no reason to suspect it. He's a nice guy. He's just been hurt too much. I'm sure most of us have the same type of triggers somewhere inside, and someone stepping on them would create the same effect. I know I have mine."
Samuel could imagine where his own lay as well, Steve's easy logic of the situation a reminder of not only his degree, but also his lived experience. "I'm glad you're so compassionate about it. He needs that."
"Yeah. Well, I know how it feels to be mad at everything in front of me. I actually was yesterday too, and I took it out on Soda."
"You knew you were safe and could say what you needed to. You knew he wouldn't hold it against you."
"There is that. But I also just lost control of myself for a couple of minutes there. Like I had the urge to hurt somebody because I was hurting. I took cheap shots at a guy who loves me just 'cause he was speaking the truth too. It only took me a little bit to look back and hate myself after that. But Soda didn't. He couldn't."
Though Samuel could already guess the answer, he asked the first question that came to mind. "But you made things right with him, didn't you?"
"Yeah. As much as I could anyway." Steve's focus shifted from his and Samuel's conversation as he again became aware of the others in the sanctuary, his best friend among them. He saw Soda with Mallory, his hand tucked into hers, where the brand new engagement ring was on display. The two were talking with Nicholas, and Steve imagined that he also needed to talk to him soon, though he didn't wish to burden his dad with problems he couldn't fix, even at this juncture of his recovery. "But I could probably do better at making it up to him. I hope this won't cause problems for you at work or with Carrie and Emily. I wouldn't want anything to be ruined because I upset Chris."
Samuel gave Steve's shoulder a squeeze as he wished he could do more to ease the younger man's anxiety. "It won't be. That has nothing to do with the kids, and if it comes up at work, I'll handle it. You didn't do anything wrong, Steve. Don't worry as if you did. I realize I don't have a great track record with predicting things recently, but I tend to think Chris will come around if you give him some time to come to grips with what you told him."
"You didn't see his eyes though, preacher guy. Or hear his voice. It was like I managed to strike the most sensitive part of his soul." Steve could keenly remember how Chris had sounded, his spirit suddenly a temple of rage and hostility that had been built upon the foundation of affliction. "And I couldn't blame him if he never wants to lay eyes on me ever again."
"Are you sad, Uncle Soda?"
Soda realized he'd gotten lost in thought as he watched Emily play on the jungle gym at the park down the street from his old house. "Huh? Oh, no, I'm not sad, sweetie. Maybe a little preoccupied."
Emily hung upside down on one of the bars, her ponytail dangling as only her legs kept her from falling. "Preoccupied? Does that mean you were thinking too hard about something?"
"Sort of. Like I'm thinkin' about things other than where I am now or what's in front of me."
"Is it Mallory?"
Soda saw how big Emily's smile had gotten, the child also batting her eyelashes as she smiled back. "Some, yeah. We've got a weddin' to plan after all."
"I hope a boy proposes to me one day."
"Hey, hold your horses there, Emily Beth. You'll have plenty of time for all that stuff when you're older." Soda's mind flashed forward as he imagined Emily in her teenage years, hoping they'd still be close when she reached that final stage of childhood. "But, believe me, you don't want to be in a rush to grow up. While you still can, please enjoy just bein' a kid."
"What do you mean he yelled at you? Steve, he had no right to do that just because you asked him a question, Son. What happened then? Did you and Sodapop just leave?"
Steve handed Nicholas a glass of water along with two of his pills, already second-guessing the decision to go ahead with talking to his dad about Chris. "We did. We had to. He told us to get out, and nothing we said was getting through. Please don't be upset, okay? I was worried about telling you because of that."
Nicholas swallowed the medication down with a few gulps of water as he saw Steve staring at him. "I'm not upset. I'm just... annoyed that someone would treat you badly when all you did is-"
"Bring up their past? Their abusive mother? The woman who wrecked their identity? Come on, Dad. It's understandable. But I didn't come over to rehash the conversation. I wanted to tell you I'm sure he's Clara's Christopher. He didn't say so, but he didn't have to. Not when I know there's no other way for his reaction to add up."
"So how does that feel then? What's it like to know?"
"It's weird. It doesn't seem real. I can't stop thinking about the whole thing, and right now, I kind of just wish it would all go away. I'm constantly untangling the thoughts in my head, and it's really damn exhausting."
"What kind of thoughts?"
Steve didn't even have to look at Nicholas to know what he was probably thinking, certain that both his dad and Soda would always be concerned about his propensity for suicidal ideation. "Nothing inherently bad or dangerous. Just about what Chris must've gone through. Compared to his, my whole experience seems invalid."
"Invalid? How is that?"
"She wasn't my mom, Dad. As much as I felt like Clara was supposed to love me because she was in a relationship with you, I wasn't her kid. She hadn't even known me long enough to feel any real affection. But Chris, that goes against every natural instinct in the world. A mother is meant to protect her child, but she was the one who inflicted pain on him. I used to feel like there had to be something wrong with me, but if she could abuse her son, she would've done it to any kid. She really had no boundaries at all, and compared to Chris, I'm just collateral damage."
"So where are you takin' me, Stevie? I thought we were just going on a Sunday drive till you had us pack overnight bags and a cooler."
Steve pressed on the gas pedal, his '72 Honda picking up speed as Soda sat in the passenger seat. "Yeah, I got to thinking, which I'm doing way too much lately, but I felt like we should have a little time away."
Soda put his hand out the open window, feeling the air that blew against his skin as he wondered about both Steve's state of mind and their destination. "Like I said earlier, I'm up for anything as long as we're back in time for work in the mornin'."
"No worries there, man. I know I practically kidnapped you, but I'm only driving about forty-five minutes away."
"Liv was all right with this?"
"Yeah. She knows I've been dealing with a few things and that it can help to get some physical distance. Plus, I was so unfair to you yesterday, buddy. I'm having a hard time letting that go."
"Unfair? When?"
"About Chris. The awful stuff I said to you after when I was talking like it was your fault."
"Aw, I didn't know that was botherin' you now. Steve, we sorted it out, and we're good, I promise. I ain't upset about it at all."
"I know. But I am. And there's a lot I can't fix right now, so please let me do what I can with this."
At those words, Soda realized what Steve was probably going through, recognizing how life's current circumstances could make him feel like things were out of his control. Knowing Steve's history with that feeling, he could never discourage his best friend from coping in any manner that would keep past trauma at bay. "Okay. So long as it's healthy, I'm up for supportin' you in anything."
His eyes hardly leaving the road, Steve squeezed Soda's shoulder. "It is healthy. Don't worry, my brother. I just really need somewhere to focus all my energy."
Band-aids peeled away from skin as healing cuts glare up at him. "I can't believe I did that to myself. And over what? Just knowing my bitch of a mother abused someone else?"
"I wouldn't minimize it, Son. That's a shock for you to hear, especially when Steve is someone you know, regardless of him being more of an acquaintance than a friend."
The band-aids cover the cuts once again as he feels his father draw him close. "I'm a fuckin' mess, Dad. Don't you see that? I've wrecked my chances with every woman who's ever been interested in me, and on top of that, I scare other people away. She screwed me up, then apparently moved on to the next kid. What? Was she trying to replace me?"
"I don't know, Chris. How her mind worked is anyone's guess. But she must've been about as psychologically disturbed as a person can get. I've always thought that she viewed her actions as something other than what they were. Our moral depravity was somehow her affection and intimacy."
"She was a sociopath. She had to be." Feeling like an eight-year-old boy again, the man who could be thought of as the long lost Christopher leans on his father as he remembers the woman who both nurtured and abused him. "So she never hurt herself before her suicide, right? I'm not like her?"
"No, Son. You aren't, and she didn't have a pattern of self-injury. I think she was too arrogant for anything like that. She thought too highly of herself in a way I didn't always realize was toxic."
"But something must've changed, Dad." As Chris contemplates both Nathan's secondhand account of what had happened to result in his mother's death and what he understands about humanity, he recognizes the missing pages in the story. "What happened back then? She didn't kill herself because of me or you, or it wouldn't have taken two years. So I wonder what went wrong for her. I wonder what the hell sent her over the edge."
"Glad you like it, buddy. I thought a short camping trip seemed like just the thing for us right now."
Soda joined Steve by the lake, their tent set up in the area just behind them. "Of course I like it. I haven't slept outside in a while. The last time was when we went campin' with both my brothers right after Pony's college graduation, so it's overdue."
Steve remembered that trip well, as all three Curtises had included him as one of their own, never allowing him to feel like an outsider. "It sure is. That was a beautiful trip though. We'll have to do it again and bring the ladies."
"I ain't sure how Mallory would feel about sleepin' in a tent."
"As long as it's with you, I bet she'd be willing to give it a try."
"Yeah, probably." Soda mirrored Steve's footsteps as his friend moved closer to the water, the space between them filled with a companionable silence that he almost hated to break. "So, I know you brought me here 'cause you feel like you need to fix somethin' and like you need to have a little bit of control. But I don't want us to stop there."
"Yeah? Well, where should we stop then? Where else is there to go?"
"Back to Chris. I think it's easier for you to focus on how you hurt me than it is to get into how you really feel about everything to do with him."
"So what if it is? I have a right to cope in whichever way works for me. I can put my focus anywhere I want it to be."
"Of course you can. I ain't sayin' it's wrong, Stevie. Just that I think there's more underneath."
Steve sat down in the grass, looking out at the lake as he felt Soda sit beside him. "Of course there is. There always is. I can never just deal with one thing and what it looks like on the surface. There has to be a litany of other stuff connected to it. I can't just move on after one lousy conversation with a guy I barely even know because it has to ripple into every trauma effect I already have. It's bad enough that I feel guilt for bringing up his pain, but mine's not exactly untouched either."
"That's sort of my point, buddy. You feel like you hurt Chris and me, but you got hurt too. You dove right into thinkin' about what you imagine his head to be like, and we're here 'cause you still feel bad for the things you said to me. So I'm gettin' this sense that you're tryin' to avoid-"
"Avoid what, Soda? What are your senses telling you about me? You always know so much now, it's almost like you're inside my brain."
"And you always get mad so easy now that it's hard to talk to you about anything. You don't gotta get that tone with me, Steve. I ain't your enemy, and I won't be treated like I am."
Steve's eyes moved from the lake to Soda, his defensiveness dropping as many notches as it had risen. "Nah, if you were my enemy, you would've punched me by now. I am getting pissed off very easily, and I owe you a thousand apologies. I'm sorry, brother. Again."
Soda saw how Steve's head hung, already regretting the way he'd responded, even though he knew his friend had needed to hear it. "You don't owe me anything. All I want is for you to be okay, and you're not if you're snappin' at every turn."
"It's so damn ironic 'cause I wanted to make it up to you after I was such an asshole yesterday, and I'm still being one out here too."
"Aw, but I don't think it's the same thing, Stevie. You just got a little bit annoyed and on edge. Maybe 'cause I need to back off some as far as pointin' things out."
"You're right though, Soda. I am avoiding the shit about Chris 'cause I'm good at taking care of us and our friendship. I know I can do that. But I can't do anything about him. I can't fix it."
"No, and I ain't askin' you to. I'm just askin' you to tell me how you feel about what happened and what you know now. There's somethin', or you couldn't get so angry or full of empathy that it's tryin' to drown you. Plus, I was there, and I know you well enough to realize that it ain't easy to be in the kind of place you were when we talked to Chris. I know it was tough to get stuck with bein' yelled at too when all you wanted were a few answers."
Steve leaned on Soda and put his arm around him, his fingers clutching the back of his friend's shirt. "Yeah. It was. It was tough 'cause I didn't think I was asking for too much from him, you know? But maybe I was wrong about that. It stung like hell to have someone get so angry at me, and even being a grown man, it was sort of scary."
Soda was thankful to hear it as Steve began the breakthrough moments he believed the other man needed, but at the same time, he wondered if they should go to a spot that would give them some privacy. "I'm glad you're gettin' this out 'cause I think it'll help. But why don't we go in the tent? We can talk more there, or even do somethin' else if you want."
"What? Are your senses telling you I have other things to say?"
"They are. And they're tellin' me we should make sure we're totally alone for it."
Steve felt a cool breeze blow in the midst of the summer air as they both got to their feet and walked over to the tent. He let Soda go on in ahead of him, remaining where he could see the lake and the woods that surrounded it, a handful of other campers occupying the area. This man who had transformed throughout the years, going from suffering child to suicidal teen to a credentialed counselor, watched the sky as it bathed the scene in a glow that let him feel how far he'd come, though each identity would continue to intersect with and build upon the others.
"Hey, you comin', Stevie?"
At the sound of his best friend's voice, Steve's musings paused as he looked down at the zippered entrance that was beckoning him to take the next steps, to find out just how much further he could go. "Yeah, man, I am" Steve then joined Soda inside the tent, the two men shut off from the rest of the world as they captured the same spirits of transparency and love which had become both their pride and lifeblood.
"I was a terrible mother, Chris. I've always blamed myself for how my daughter turned out. Though your grandpa and I never discussed it directly, Clara's a big part of why we divorced."
Chris had made sure to cover up the evidence of his self-injury before he came over to see Nora, certain that his grandmother never needed to know about his struggle. "I can't imagine you being a terrible mother. You've been such a good grandma to me."
Nora Mason, who hadn't been married to Jesse Philips for over two decades now, had long ago begun to heal from his abuse, as well as that which she'd perpetrated. "Because I've learned from my mistakes. I didn't take care of your mother or protect her the way I should have, and I'm sure that distorted her view of the entire world."
"But that's no excuse. It should've made her want to be a better person or at least not a molester. I'd get it if she was just mean, you know? Like if she yelled or got mad or even if she hit me. What she did is so much worse. She acted like she thought it was okay, like it was our secret, but I knew it wasn't normal. I knew my own mother wasn't supposed to touch me. It was the creepiest thing because she'd still talk to me in this sweet and loving way, so I'd question whether what she was doing could really be wrong. My perceptions got so warped."
"But your instincts were always right, honey. She could be very convincing, and that must've been confusing for you as a child, especially one as young as you were. Even when Clara was a teenager, she had this temperament that made her seem like she was above everyone else. She always had the final say too, and I think it was because she had to control anything she could."
"Do you ever miss her, Grandma? I don't. I never could. I can't even say I loved her after what she did to me."
"I miss having a daughter on this earth and the possibilities that brings. But I don't miss the woman my little girl became. They say a parent's love for their child is unconditional."
"But is it?"
Nora could see within Chris a reflection of Clara, but it was purely physical, as she believed the similarities ended there. "I suppose it is. But what your mother did went well beyond the realm of normal. I can't say some part of me doesn't still love her, though it's the part that feels guilty for the way her childhood was. As for the kind of love that would stand by my child unconditionally and always see the good in my daughter? No, it doesn't exist anymore. Anyone would believe a mother could never say such a thing, but Clara's actions simply render that assumption untrue."
"Man, sometimes I think about how so much has changed, but I always circle back around to realizing that a lot hasn't. Us sitting out here tonight is proof of that."
Soda had rolled his sleeping bag out beside Steve's, a lantern and a deck of cards between them. "Yep. I guess it is. Life changed, but we didn't. We just grew quite a bit. That's all."
Steve reached for the cards, splitting the deck in half as he decided which way he wanted to steer the conversation, finding that his willingness to talk had already begun to falter. "We did. Together. It's been a hell of a journey too."
"And one that ain't near its end either."
No matter how much Steve wished he could deny it, tears lined his eyes as he shuffled the deck of cards, a mix of nostalgia and pain characterizing his spirit. "What if this is it, Soda? What if I'm not destined to find any more resolution?"
"Resolution to what?"
"My past. The abuse. I feel like I should be so much happier than I am. I have a great job, a wife, my whole family, everything a man could want. But it still feels like something is lacking. Like there's a hole in me that's impossible to fill."
Soda could imagine where these feelings had originated, but he didn't want Steve to think he was dismissing the kind of hurt and fear he also knew to be very real. "I don't think there's anything you should be. It's okay to look for more and to want peace. You've got a lot, but you worked your ass off for it too. I bet, if you give yourself a little time, you'll feel better. Plus, after everything that's happened lately, this ain't the best time to try evaluatin' your life. There's just too much in your way that can make it tough to see straight."
"Things can make my vision blurry, huh?"
"Yeah. Exactly. You've said stuff like that to me, so I know it's true."
Steve put the cards aside and lay down on the sleeping bag, pondering what Soda was saying to him as he also held back the tears that longed to fall. "I guess I feel guilty too, you know? Because Liv and I just got married, but here I am yearning for pieces of what used to be. Things that I shouldn't even miss."
Soda lay down on the other sleeping bag, elbow propping himself up as he faced Steve. "Miss? What do you miss, buddy?"
"Finding stuff out about myself and my trauma. Making what I see fit together so I understand and feel it. It sounds crazy 'cause I don't miss being in constant pain, but there was a kind of adrenaline rush to everything. A satisfaction. But I think that's all done now. There's nothing left for me to explore."
"So when you heard that Chris might be Clara's kid, you felt it again? That drive to fit things together?"
"Yeah. As much as I tried to fight against it, I couldn't. And I know I shouldn't take it personally, but I sort of resent him for how this went. I feel rejected for just being who I am."
Soda scooted closer to Steve, a hand gripping his friend's shoulder. "I didn't think I should tell you this at first, but after what you said about adrenaline, you'll probably be able to see where I'm comin' from."
"What? You think I'll bite your head off again if you say the wrong thing?"
"Maybe. But I mostly didn't want to sound like I ain't takin' you seriously. 'Cause I am and-"
"I miss this too."
"Huh? But we still talk all the time."
Steve sat up once more as he saw the confusion in Soda's face, finding that he himself was surprised by his own candidness despite that being the nature of their relationship. "I mean, I didn't realize it before we got out here, but it was different when we were younger because we had fewer responsibilities and obligations. So, when I say I miss this, I'm talking about it really just being us, like it is tonight."
"Well, we'll have to make sure it happens more often then. Back to what I was tellin' you though, I think you were on a high when ya'll got married, and obviously, you hit a low when your dad had his heart attack. Then, watchin' him get better was probably its own sort of high, especially while you're workin' out your new identity as a husband and all."
"My identity as a husband? Are we camping in some alternative universe where you're a counselor now too?"
Soda had to grin back at Steve as he saw his friend's smile, certain that the purpose of their trip was coming to fruition. "Yep. We sure are. How about that? You brought me out here 'cause you wanted to have some time outdoors and to heal a little bit, but we fell into a whole other world." Sitting up, Soda looped his arm around Steve as he returned to what he'd been saying. "And when you found out about who Chris might be, I think that was a mix of a low and a high. You were so conflicted about it, but there must've been some freedom in decidin' what you wanted to do."
Steve had thought the tears were gone, but he now realized they weren't, the emotion in his eyes begging him to let go. "Yeah, there was."
"Then, afterward, well, that was definitely a low. It's taken me some time to get there, but I'm tryin' to say you've had too much up and down. Adrenaline then-"
"You think I don't know that, Soda? You think I can't see it? I know it's been too much, and that's why I'm crashing. It's why I'm like a kid again and like a victim. You think I need you to tell me what's making my head so screwed up?"
Soda got a firm grasp of Steve's shoulders as he watched the tears glide down his friend's cheeks, realizing this night spent in a tent wasn't only reminiscent of another, but it was also just as therapeutic. "No. I think you need me to tell you that the feelings you're havin' now won't last forever. That they don't mean you're doin' anything wrong. I think you need me to tell you that I'll be here just lovin' you in the time it takes to be all right again. It's okay to struggle, Stevie. It's okay to fight. This doesn't mean you've found all there is either 'cause every day you help somebody else, your trauma becomes somethin' new. There sure ain't a hole in you either, no matter how it feels tonight. I know that because your heart is still so clear and real to me, buddy. You've been worried about your dad, Chris, and me, and that's all I need to see that every part of your spirit is absolutely whole."
"Mr. Evans? Can I talk to you for a minute before I clock in?"
Samuel waved Chris into the 'employees only' area of the restaurant where they both worked, their Monday morning now upon them. "Sure. How was your weekend? And, by the way, you know you can always call me Samuel."
As much as Chris had never found his boss to be anything besides friendly, he'd debated on whether or not to ask him about Saturday's personal events. "Oh. Yes, sir. I know. My weekend was, well- I thought you might have heard about it. You and Steve are pretty close. Did he tell you?"
"He did."
Chris expected Samuel to say more, but when the other man let his reply stand alone, he continued himself. "I was a jerk to him and Sodapop. Do you think they'll listen if I go and apologize?"
Samuel wanted to apologize as well since he'd been the one to draw Steve's attention to Chris' potential identity in the first place. Yet, if he did so, he'd have to be careful to conceal his own family connection to Clara, at least for now. "They would, Chris. To be honest, I was the first to mention what Steve asked you about. I wasn't around when he was a kid, but I've heard enough of the story to make me wonder. I'm sorry that I said anything, and I hope-"
"I can't believe this. Everyone really has been talking about me, haven't they? I mean, I knew that already. And I could handle you all knowing I'd been abused. But the rest? Your family knows things about my past that I've never talked about with anybody besides my dad and grandma, and you know some things I didn't. Probably even some I still don't. It's so awkward, and I don't know how to get over it."
"Maybe you can't, Chris." Glancing at the clock to see that it was just five minutes until 8:00, Samuel felt the pressure of time, yet that didn't stop him from saying what he could to help the man who'd been working alongside him for five years now. "Maybe this is a sign that you just have to face it head on. Instead of getting over it, you need to confront what's happening and every connection it brings."
"Yeah, the ladies always enjoy their movie, don't they? Liv was worried about me when she came by at lunch, but I think I convinced her I'm okay."
Soda followed Steve out to the front porch, their brief camping trip already feeling like a distant memory as he took a seat on the swing. "Which means she'll probably ask me about you too. 'Cause I'm still the expert."
Steve leaned on the porch railing, seeing how Soda smiled at what they both knew to be true. "I'm glad I'm married to a woman who wouldn't be pissed off to hear you say that."
"Nah. Liv would agree with me."
Before Steve could reply, he saw a silver Ford turn onto their street, the car hesitating before it parked in front of the house. "Who the hell is that?"
Soda looked through the car windows, seeing the driver's face as he lingered inside the vehicle. "Stevie, that's Chris."
"Yeah. I see that now. I wonder what he wants."
Soda and Steve remained on the porch, watching as Chris got out of the Ford and made his way toward them, the man's stride making him appear more confident than he actually was in the moment.
Steve moved to meet Chris near the porch steps, instinct telling him to extend his hand in what he hoped would be a kind of peace offering. "Hey. How are you? I'm still sorry about everything the other night."
Chris was taken aback by the warm reception as he shook Steve's hand. "I'm okay. Thanks. That's, uh, what I came over here to talk about."
Soda had gotten up from the swing, ready for whatever may unfold and sure that he wouldn't allow his friend to get hurt again. "So you want to talk about how you caused Steve more pain? He agonized over whether to talk to you and what to say, and he didn't deserve the things you said to him or the way you said them."
Steve gestured for Chris to wait a minute as he went back to the porch and took Soda aside. "I love you for defending me, buddy, but it's okay. I really want to talk to him alone now too."
Soda wanted to respect Steve's wishes, even as the need to protect him easily rivaled that in intensity. He spared a glance in Chris' direction, the sight combined with the knowledge of what the man had suffered as a child causing the edges of his anger to soften. "All right. If it's what you want, Stevie. I'll be inside. If anything changes-"
"-I'll come get you" Steve waited until the front door had closed behind Soda before he turned back to Chris. "Taking up for each other is pretty ingrained in both of us, so I hope you won't hold that against him. He's the most understanding guy in the world, but seeing me hurt makes him blind to everything else."
Chris joined Steve on the porch, sitting down on the swing once the other man had done so as well. "He's loyal. Which is something I can't fault him for. Plus, I'm aware of how much of an ass I was to you on Saturday night, and I want to say I'm sorry too. I could've handled it much better than I did. Not to make excuses, but you really caught me off guard. No one ever talks about, well, about her and what happened. Not so directly anyway. Even with what I did tell Carrie, she doesn't know who did it. I came quite close to telling Samuel once, but I still basically talked in code."
"I understand that. I mean, not that I think I can truly relate. But I know how tough it can be to talk about certain things, especially when you aren't expecting the subject to come up. My dad and I avoided this one completely for years. Not even Soda knew what happened to me. I told him when we were both seventeen."
"I haven't ever told anyone. Not the whole story. So nobody knew besides my dad and my grandma. My stepmom too. But my dad told her. What with you being a counselor and all, you probably think I should get better at talking about it, but I already have. This is more than you would've gotten when I was younger."
"Which means it's still progress. I think you get to talk in your own way and on your own timeline. There's no single path to recovery. When it comes to trauma, you get to pave the road yourself."
"Ah, kind of like how my mother paved her own road to hell. I've worked so hard to distance myself from who she actually was. Like I had to separate what she did from the fact that she gave birth to me. Those two things cannot coexist because they just don't make sense. I couldn't deal with being hurt until I split them apart."
"I get that. Her being your mother is essentially a trauma in and of itself. Then, here I came along and reminded you of it. What Soda said is completely true though. It took a lot for me to decide to talk to you and to figure out what to say."
"Well, I guess there is no ideal manner to say 'hey, are you the son of my abuser?' But speaking of questions, I have one for you now, and I mean the genuine kind, not like what I hurled at you in anger the last time we talked."
Steve realized he was glad to answer any questions Chris might have, perhaps even overly eager, as he imagined them forming the sort of bond he wished he didn't desire. "Please ask me anything you want. I think you're more than entitled to that, honestly."
"I've known your family for some time now, right? Because of my job and Emily and Carrie being friends. My name and my father's name have been common knowledge, as has the fact that Cindy's my stepmom. Yet, no one wondered if my background had a connection to yours until you knew I'd been abused. So I'm wanting to know, did my mother say what she had done? Years ago, did you find out she'd molested her own kid too?"
"We suspected. She said these vague things about you and your dad. It sounded like he'd just up and left with you. Also, she told someone on the phone once that she'd never do anything like that to her own son. So it's not like I put the pieces together as a little boy, but I sure did later on."
Chris was surprised by how willing he was to be even guardedly vulnerable with Steve, finding that the more they conversed, the more he actually wanted to share. "I know I seemed pissed off the other night, but it wasn't at you. I just never knew that she abused another child, and I'm mad that she did."
"You don't owe me an explanation, Chris. It's your past and your story, so you had every right to any feeling or reaction as soon as I opened that door."
"Maybe. But you aren't the one responsible for what still lurks around inside me. I've done my damndest to deal with it, but she damaged how I see myself. I think parts of that are beyond repair, and it feels bizarre to realize more than one person knows I'm a molester's biological child. On top of that, I now know she was a serial abuser, which means she had to be truly irredeemable and unrepentant. I hate thinking about her, but I'm wondering about what the hell happened in the years after my dad took me away. I'm also morbidly curious about what you went through with her and how it ended."
Steve laid back against the swing, fingers clutching the chains that kept it suspended above the ground. He saw Soda peek at them through the living room window, dark green curtains framing his best friend's face. "I have some morbid curiosity myself, and whenever the time comes that you're up for it, we can both go into our history and find answers to our questions."
"What if I'm up for it now?"
Steve hadn't expected such immediacy from Chris, but he was in no place to reject an offer he prayed would provide more resolution. "Then I am too. I realize we don't know each other very well, but if you're comfortable with it, I'll tell you anything you want to know. I have to admit though, it makes me a little nervous because there's stuff you might get upset about."
"Don't worry. I won't go off on you again. I already know the subject, so I'm prepared." Chris held his hand out to Steve, speaking once the other man had grasped it. "I promise I won't take my pain, anger, and bitterness out on you as long as you don't look at me as a literal son of a bitch. Deal?"
Steve squeezed Chris' hand, shaking it as he confirmed the promise. "Deal. This is a lousy thing to have in common, but let's see if we can turn it into something positive."
