Otter comes to stand next to me and leans over the recipe book. “So, Ty came in screaming loudly that we were having a sleepover.”
I blush harder. “Uh… yeah. He kind of insisted on it.” I start to babble: “I should have asked. I mean, it’s your house, right? You probably have plans and don’t need us hanging out over here all the time. Maybe we should just do this some other time. I’ll go get Ty, and we can go—”
“Bear, shut up,” he says, cutting me off before I can become even more retarded. “You know that you’re more than welcome to stay here. I like having… people over. This house is too big to have just one person in it.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Besides,” he says wickedly, “I told Ty this morning that you guys were going to stay here. We’ve kind of already planned this.”
I try to kick him in the shins, but he’s too quick for me and dances away, laughing, always laughing.
MUCH to my surprise, the lasagna turned out pretty good. Ty relished watching every bite I took. I made him scowl at me when I told him I had put a small piece of meat in it, and he refused to eat anymore until Otter had convinced him that I was a “liar and a fat mouth.” This sent Ty off into gales of laughter, and he fell off his chair, and that got me laughing, and Otter grumbled, saying how he could never have a nice dinner anymore. Ty and I both stuck our tongues out at him, and then he threw a piece of French bread at me, and it bounced off my head and knocked over my beer. Ty tried to keep it in but was lost again to his amusement, and I took my turn and glared at Otter, but he just shrugged innocently and said it served me right for lying to a nine-year-old. I couldn’t think of anything witty to say back, so I sat there, mouth gaping like a goldfish.
Otter had even gotten the Kid more soy ice cream, so we sat in the living room, watching CNN and taking turns licking the spoon. It’s absolutely the worst stuff I’ve ever tasted in my entire life, but I didn’t want to get another threatening look from Ty, so every time he offered me a bite, I took it. Otter did, too, and once, when Ty looked back down at the bowl, Otter made a gagging face at me, and I made one back. We both started laughing, and Ty looked at me threateningly anyway.
Eventually, Ty’s eyes started to droop and his head started to nod, but he kept insisting he wasn’t tired. Then he fell asleep in mid-sentence, and I picked him up and took him to Creed’s room. He yawned as I made him put on his pajamas and brush his teeth. He grinned sleepily at the thought of sleeping in Uncle Creed’s room. Otter came in and said good night and promised him waffles for breakfast, with crunchy peanut butter and maple syrup. He kissed the Kid on the forehead and walked out the door.
I turn back to the Kid, and he smiles happily at me. “Are you going to be okay in here?” I ask.
He nods. “You’re not going to go home are you? You having a sleepover too?”
“Yeah, Kid. I’m staying here too.”
“Well, where are you going to sleep?”
To be honest, I haven’t really thought about this. Maybe because my mind has been shutting that part out all evening. But the night is almost at an end, and I’m going to have to think of something soon. I didn’t even bring any clothes to sleep in.
“I don’t know, Kid. Maybe I’ll sleep in Creed’s parents’ room.”
“Just sleep in Otter’s bed,” he tells me. “That’s right down the hall, and I can find you if I need to.”
Goddammit.
I nod slowly. “Okay. I’ll have to make sure it’s okay with Otter.”
“He won’t care. G’night, Papa Bear.”
“Night, Kid,” I say as I stand and set the lamp on its lowest setting. I close the door partway and start walking down the hallway, my mind in eight billion different places at once.
Can it really be this easy? I think. Could it really be so… quick… to be like that? I was with Anna, for Christ’s sake! We had sex and I enjoyed it! I would still be with her if I hadn’t… hadn’t….
Well, had I not kissed Otter. True, those words were never spoken out loud to her but doesn’t she have her suspicions? Didn’t she—
is he in love with you
—ask me a question no girlfriend should have asked in the first place? And why couldn’t I—
are you in love with him
—look her in the eye when I rebuked her? Why did she say I was lying? What is it that people can see that I can’t? How could she ever know when I can’t even face it myself? Why would she be so quick to point me in his direction?
I remember being almost eleven years old, watching Otter graduate high school. I remember later that summer, sitting in his room, feeling morose as I watched him packing his room to leave for college. I remember him smiling the Otter smile and sitting next to me on the bed, saying, “You look like someone died, Bear.” I remember not being able to tell him that it felt like someone had died because he was leaving. I remember watching him drive away. I remember him coming home the first time, his eyes wild with things I would never know. I remember the way I had jumped onto his back the first time I’d seen him.
I remember being fourteen and having just had sex with Anna for the first time and calling Otter right away, wanting to brag, but really wanting to feel consoled as I was scared half to death. I remember being fifteen and watching Otter graduate college. I remember him saying, “Now, they say life really begins.” I remember him laughing when I asked who “they” were.
I remember him moving back home. I remember being eighteen and my mom leaving. I remember graduating high school with Otter watching me. I remember him telling me that there was no one else who could take care of Ty like I could. I remember wanting to hit him but something entirely different happening instead.
I also remember him leaving. I remember that most of all, because I can’t ever remember a time when he wasn’t a force in my life. I remember the anger and darkness I had felt. I remember I’d been the one to chase him away. I remember him saying that he left because of his influence, but I remember that it always takes two. I remember so much; I remember too much.
I stand outside his door. I know that if I go in, everything will change. I’m almost able to reach out for the door handle, and then I do. My fingers feel the cool metal of the knob, but then I stop. It can’t be like this. It can’t be this easy. I love Anna. I love Anna. I try to remember something, anything about Anna, but my mind draws a blank. It’s like he’s erased her from me. I squeeze my eyes shut and am about to turn and go back to Creed’s room when the door opens in front of me, light and Otter spilling out to me.
“Hey,” he says, startled to see me right in front of his door. “What are you doing?”
“I was just… thinking some thoughts,” I say lamely.
Otter shakes his head. “You always do, Papa Bear. I don’t suppose that’ll ever change. It’s one of the reasons I….” He stops, as if catching himself.
“It’s one of the reasons you what?” I ask curiously.
“Never mind, Bear. It doesn’t matter. Hey, I got you some clothes to sleep in. There, on my bed.” He pushes past me and walks into his bathroom and shuts the door.
I quickly change, not wanting to be caught in any stage of undress before he comes back. He has given me the pair of black sweat pants I’d seen him wearing earlier. I swim in them and feel self-conscious about my chicken legs. I slip the black tank top over my head, and it’s two or three sizes too big. My skin is pale against the fabric. I rub my arms quickly as goose flesh appears. I feel like an imposter, a child dressing up in big-people clothing. I think this is all an act. I don’t know how much longer I can avoid this.
He comes back into the room and glances at me. His expression is unreadable. I want to crack open his head and crawl inside to find out what he thinks about when he looks at me. I need to know if he feels sorry for me, because I couldn’t stand that. I’ve never wanted his pity, and I certainly won’t take it now.
He sits on the bed and stretches. The white tank top he wears rises up,
just an inch, but it still reveals miles of hard brown skin underneath. His pajama shorts sit low on his waist, and I can see where the tan ends and the white begins, and then he stops, and I wonder what he’s doing. I wonder if he’s trying to… do something to me. I wonder if that’s been his plan all along. Ever since I was a little kid. I wonder if it’s his fault I’m so fucking torn like I am right now. I wonder if he knows about this and is getting off on it. Nauseous guilt rolls through me, and it takes everything in my power not to grimace as my stomach clenches.
This is Otter. He would never….
“You okay?” he asks me.
I nod once.
“Well, that’s good, I guess. I’ve made up the guest room next door for you.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling relieved, but unable to stop it from sounding disappointed.
He arches an eyebrow at me.
“But…,” I mumble. “I just… thought….” I wave my arms around the room, trying to show something in the general vicinity.
“You thought what, Bear?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused.
“You know…,” I stammer uncomfortably. “I could… sleep….”
He bursts out laughing. “I’m just fucking with you,” he says, grinning evilly. I want to kick his ass, but I also want to throw up because I was ready to go to the other room.
“That’s not funny, Otter,” I say as I glare at him.
He shrugs. “Maybe not now. You’ll laugh at it someday. Someday you’ll laugh at all of this.” He turns and crawls farther up the bed and slides up with his back against the headboard and looks at me expectantly. I shudder; has his bed always been this small? It wasn’t like this earlier. I almost bolt from the room, but I walk toward him, drawn by some force I can’t yet name. I feel awkward in my big people clothes. I’m too white, I’m too skinny, I’m too everything for him to want… well, to want whatever it is he wants. His eyes never leave me as I lean down and sit on the bed, my back to him. I shudder again, and my teeth start chattering. I can’t help it, and my whole body shakes and my hands flex uncontrollably, and I tense my jaw, willing it to stop. A hand falls on my back, and for just a moment, a split second, the tremor worsens. But then it’s gone.
“Bear?” I hear Otter ask gently.
I turn and throw myself at him, burying my face in his chest. He doesn’t startle this time, and his hands are in my hair, and before I can stop, I’m telling him what happened with Anna. How I had lied about him being at my house that night, how she had looked at me with angry tears in her eyes. I tell him how I’d felt like I’d chased him away so he would never hate me. When I get to this part, I think I’ll hesitate, but I don’t. Otter never interrupts me, and I’m grateful. I tell him how I still could not admit to Anna that I’d kissed him. I tell him she called me a liar. I tell him everything; well, I tell him almost everything. When I get to the part of her asking if he was in love with me or I was in love with him, I stop. The words won’t come out of my mouth, and I think that’s okay for now. Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell him how it all really ended.
After I’m done talking, my throat is dry, and I feel hollow and soft, like a rotting pumpkin months after Halloween. Throughout my confession, Otter’s hands remained in my hair, tugging gently. At one point his thumbs rub against my eyebrows, and I embarrass myself by making a happy humming sound at the back of my throat. I lay curled against his chest, once again wanting to know what he’s thinking.
Finally, he says, “So you just weren’t satisfied with making sure the Kid had a proper future, but you thought you’d make sure I’d have one too?”
I shrug meekly. “It sounds kind of stupid when you say it like that.”
“Bear,” he says gruffly from somewhere above me, “it sounds stupid no matter how you say it.”
I sit up, annoyed. “You didn’t have to leave,” I point out.
He stares hard at me, his big arms across his chest. “So you’ve said a few times now,” he says carefully. “But I already told you why I did.”
“It doesn’t look like your reasons mattered, though,” I say thoughtfully.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, you’re here now. And so am I.”
He shakes his head. “Bear, we don’t even know what that means yet.”
“I know that, Otter,” I say. “But can you… can you wait until I… figure that out?” I don’t know what I’m even asking for, but I choose not to clarify for fear of making it worse. He reaches up and pulls me back to him. I lay stiffly against him, wanting an answer. I want an answer now before I end up making a fool of myself.
“Like I told Ty earlier,” he says in my ear, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I try to sit back up, but he holds me against his chest. When I speak, my lips are moving against the fabric of his shirt. From this vantage point, I can see his right nipple harden. A dark buzz races through my body. “You also told Ty that you would go back. Eventually.” I can’t finish what he had actually said.
“Ye-es,” he draws out. “I also seem to remember saying something else in that, too, that you seem to be avoiding.”
“Of course I’m avoiding it, Otter,” I say angrily. “Why would you even say something like that? Why would you get the Kid’s hopes up like that?” And why would you get my hopes up like that?
“His hopes up?” Otter repeats. “You think I wasn’t serious?”
I tense against him. “How could you be?”
He pulls on my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he says.
I pull away. “Otter, I can’t just pack up and move. I’ve got a job here, and the Kid has school, and we would just get in the way. Besides, I can’t afford to live in California.”
“I’ve got money,” he starts, but I hold up my hand and cut him off.
“I don’t want you to have to take care of us, Otter. I’ve done fine on my own these last couple of years.” I am feeling slightly mortified at what Otter is suggesting, that he would be paying for our lives. I would never feel comfortable allowing him to do that. I still have my damnable pride, and whether that’s good or bad, I don’t know. But I do know that doesn’t matter.
“What about school? You are going to go back to school eventually, right? You’re not going to be able to have a full-time job and go to school and take care of Ty.”
I wring my hands. “I’ll figure something out.”
He snorts. “What, when Ty graduates?”
“How did this suddenly become any of your concern?” I snap at him. “Why are you even going back to San Diego, anyways? I thought something bad happened. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
He glares back, his eyes glittering. “That’s part of it,” he says flatly. “And maybe it’s also because I thought I should try to make up for past mistakes.”
I’m livid and I don’t know why. I get up and start pacing his room. “Oh, so something bad happens to you, and you just happen to decide then that you need to ‘make up for past mistakes’?” This last part comes out slightly mocking, and I’d regret it if I wasn’t so pissed off. “You gotta admit, Otter, that’s perfect goddamn timing.”
Otter jumps up and stands in front of me, his presence large and fierce. I don’t care; I scowl right back, my arms tense at my side. “Why do you do that?” he growls. “Why do you seem bent on driving people away?”
“I think the question we should be asking,” I say hotly, “is that if whatever you went through in California hadn’t happened, would you even be here?”
I watch all the fight drain out of him. He slumps onto the bed and lies on his back, one arm over his head, the other tapping gently against his stomach. I can’t help but notice, even now, how his shirt rides up again, and I can see his smooth hard stomach. The ridges of skin there cause my mouth to go dry. I alternate between hot and cold, heaven and hell. I want to keep fighting, I want to keep hashing this out, but Otter looks so dejected that I can’t. I sigh and sit on the bed nex
t to him. I pat his leg awkwardly. “You’re right,” I say sadly. “I seem to chase everyone away.”
He sits up and puts his hands in his lap. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he says quietly. “I have no right to say anything to you.”
I carefully lean my head on his shoulder, and he relaxes and drops his head onto mine. “What did Ty say to you when he whispered in your ear?” I ask.
Otter chuckles. “He said that I’ve got to take care of you now. He said you’re just a little guy and that you need to be taken care of.”
“And you promised him that?”
He raises his head and looks at me, surprised. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I promise that?”
I shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t get you sometimes.”
“That’s because I’m mysterious,” he says, grinning crookedly. I punch his arm gently. He catches my hand and entwines his fingers with mine. His hands are smooth and hard. Something crackles in my brain, like a wire shorting out. I’ve never held hands with a guy like this before. Not with our fingers matching perfectly. It’s weird.
“You’re not that mysterious,” I tell him seriously.
“Please,” he scoffs. “I’m an enigma that you’re still trying to figure out.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s not much there to figure out.”
He grins again. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.” He slides back up to the bed and pulls me with him. We resume the position we were in: me on his chest, his hands playing gently with my hair. I am nodding off when he speaks.
“I didn’t tell Anna everything,” he says softly. “There’s some parts I left out because I didn’t want to scare her about anything. She was really broken up after you guys fought, so I tried to keep anything that involved you out of what I told her about what happened in San Diego.”
“What do you mean ‘involved me’?” I ask. “I was never in San Diego.”
I can feel him shake his head. “I’ll get to it. But you’ve got to let me tell this my way, okay? Just wait until the end, and then you can say whatever you want to. I promise.” I nod and feel him take a deep breath and start to speak.