Ten

CHAPTER 10

J O E L

The smell of garlic simmering greeted me as I opened the front door. I followed my nose into the kitchen, where Daniel was busy at the stove.

“Whoa,” I said. “You can cook?”

He chuckled. “Don’t act so surprised.” I stepped up to the stove. “Fajitas?” “You know it.”

That made me smirk. Fajitas were an old favorite, one of the rare things the two of us could agree on.

“I figured, since I’m staying here, I should make myself useful.” I poured myself a glass of water. “I won’t fight you on that.”

It had been a full day, but not nearly long enough. There’d been a staff meeting at the clinic, then multiple pre-ops with patients. I’d closed the afternoon by going to the gym, but after that there’d been nothing else to do, so I’d come home.

I had to admit, having Daniel there made it a bit easier. I hadn’t noticed before just how quiet the Hollywood Hills bungalow was. And he’d only been here for twenty-four hours.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.” Daniel stirred the bell peppers and onions. “You usually stay out pretty late, right?”

I sat at the table and thought about that. “Sometimes.” He grinned at me. “With anyone in particular?”

My stomach twisted. “Not lately, no.”

He looked concerned. “What happened to Erin?” “Who?”

“Erin. The blonde. She’s a dental hygienist.” I stared blankly at him.

My brother shook his head. “You really don’t remember her?” I shrugged. “I go on a lot of dates.”

“I thought she was more than just a date. You were seeing her. Right before Dad died.”

Again, I shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her in months.”

Now I remembered Erin. She’d been upset when I broke things off with her. I’d hated to hurt her, but we weren’t a couple. We’d only gone on a handful of dates. Perhaps not even five.

I’d sensed things getting a little intense, which meant it had been time to move on. Really, I’d done her a favor. If she’d really gotten to know me, she wouldn’t have liked what she saw.

No one would.

“Need any help?” I stood and rolled up my sleeves. It wasn’t good to keep my hands idle. That always led to thinking too much.

“The tortillas need to be warmed up.”

We talked about small things while we cooked—sports, the old woman next door who sat on her porch all day—and things almost felt… peaceful.

Weird. It wasn’t a feeling I was used to. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it, as relaxing had never been my forte. Blame my dad for it, or maybe blame me, but I was a doer, through and through.

“There’s no woman in your life?” Daniel asked as we sat down to eat. “Nope.”

I must have been too quick to answer, because he paused and studied me. “What?” I served myself some refried beans. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yeah. It is. You’re a handsome, famous surgeon. Women probably throw themselves at you all the time.”

“They don’t throw themselves at me.” “Uh-huh. I can tell you’re lying.”

I took a drink of water, still holding off. “I was seeing someone—well, not really. We were friends, and…” I shook my head. “Never mind.”

But Daniel leaned forward in his chair. “No, don’t say never mind. What’s her name?”

“Katie.”

As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Speaking her name was like opening up a wound that had only just started to heal.

I’d already decided I wouldn’t talk to her again, even though we hadn’t officially ended things. It would just be better that way.

“We weren’t dating.” I used my fork to push food around my plate. “Then what happened?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. I just don’t have much time for socializing.” His lips turned down. “Joel.”

“What?”

Daniel paused, looked like he was really considering his words. “I have a hard time too, you know.”

I just watched him, unsure of what he would say next.

“Some days, it’s hard to get out of bed,” he said. “And it feels like there’s always this weight pulling me down. You ever feel that way?”

My stomach dropped. “No.”

I felt like I was always running. From or to something, I didn’t know. The only important thing was that I kept going, that I went faster and didn’t let anything hold me back.

I switched the conversation back to him. “Does that have anything to do with why this last job didn’t work out?”

His lips twisted, and he looked ashamed. “Yeah. It does.”

I sighed. Daniel had long struggled with depression—which of course our father proclaimed was “all in his head.” He called Daniel weak for it, while praising me for being the strong one.

But I wasn’t strong. I was just good at acting like I was. And did that even account for much?

Daniel went on. “I don’t see how anyone could come out of a childhood like ours and not be messed up in some way.”

I occupied myself with eating. “It’s in the past.”

“The past affects our lives now. Don’t tell me everything in your life is hunky dory. I remember the women you’ve dated better than you do.”

Next to my plate, my hand curled into a fist. I really didn’t want to lose my temper with my brother. He’d only been here a day, and so far things were going well. Having to kick him out would really suck.

“I’ve moved on,” I told him. “At some point you have to stop living in the past.”

“At some point you have to deal with the past.”

“Is that why you’re homeless and jobless?” I looked him dead in the eye. “Because you’ve done such a good job with that?”

He stayed calm, though he looked sad, and that made me feel like a real jerk. “I’m working on it,” he said. “Two steps forward, one step back.”

“That’s something weak people tell themselves to feel better about their shortcomings.”

“Funny. That’s exactly what Dad used to say.” I froze. What the…

Was I really quoting my father?

With burning shame, I realized I was. The bitter old man had been in the grave for months, but apparently he was thriving and well, living through me.

Realizing that made me want to burn the whole world down.

I pushed back from the table, no longer hungry. “I’ll see you later.” “Where are you going?”

“For a drive.” I snatched up my phone, keys, and wallet. “Joel.”

At the front door, I stopped and looked at him. He opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish out of water. And maybe he was. He’d opened up a conversation that neither of us knew how to close.

“I’ll be back later,” I said in a tone meant to convey that things were okay. Whether or not the message got across, I didn’t know.

Behind the wheel, I got tunnel vision. I couldn’t see anything but the road in front of me. I drove and drove, not knowing where I was going and not knowing when I would stop.

All I knew was that I had to keep moving. It was the only way. If I stopped, even for a minute, the dark cloud would catch up. It would pull me under. Destroy me.

At some point, I realized I was driving along Hollywood Boulevard, where stars lined the sidewalk and people walked around in costumes. The place was anything but glamorous, like one would expect, and an area that I typically avoided.

At a yellow light, I sped up, going through it right before it turned red. I didn’t want to stop, even for a light. I had to keep going.

What right did Daniel have to show up in my life and try to force me to talk about the past? Did he think he would make us better or something?

Not that there was anything wrong with me. I was the one with a job. A damn good job that people all over the world respected me for. I had a million- dollar house in the Hollywood Hills and I drove the kind of car that made heads turn.

I was a success.

You will be a success. My father’s words rang in my head. Without meaning to, I’d mimicked him once more.

I’d bent over backwards for that man. Evenings and weekends spent in extra tutoring, in practices for sports I didn’t even like… And I never got so much as a “Good job, Son.” My childhood had been completely devoid of touch. Not once had my parents told me they loved me.

Instead, our house had been one of stony silence, my mother retreating to her room as early as she could each day to drink herself to unconsciousness and my father walking around with a grimace on, barking orders.

I’d told myself wishing for the sweeter things meant being a baby. I was a grown man, for crying out loud.

But I hadn’t always been.

I slammed my fist against the steering wheel and cursed.

Yes, I was successful, but was it even the success that I wanted? I couldn’t say.

My whole life, I’d tried to prove I was good enough. But what for? For who? My father had been the only person who seemed to care, my mother too lost

in her misery to notice us, and even my highest achievements had never been enough.

Now here I was, thirty-seven and at a loss. Daniel might have been the one without a job, but I felt like a complete failure.

My hands shook against the steering wheel. Realizing I was losing my grip, I turned into the first parking spot I came across.

Taking a steadying breath, I clocked my surroundings. I had stopped right in front of a liquor store.

I stared at the sign. I couldn’t ever remember going into a liquor store before. On the occasions that I drank, it was at bars, in a social setting. Even then, I had one drink. Maybe two.

But I’d sat in the car outside liquor stores countless times, waiting for my mother to return from inside.

Her behavior made sense to me now. Stuck in a life with a cruel, cold man; no wonder she’d turned to drinking to numb the pain.

I still hated her for abandoning me and Daniel. We hadn’t been able to escape reality so easily.

But at least I understood her behavior. That in itself was a bit of a balm.

Without even thinking about it, I put my hand on the door handle. I could go inside and get a bottle or two. Go home and do the same thing she had night after night. The world was an awful place, and I couldn’t face it on my own anymore.

As I pushed the car door open, my phone started ringing. I grabbed it, annoyed that Daniel was calling.

But it wasn’t him. It was Katie. My mouth went dry.

“Hello?” I answered.

There was a pause. “Hi, Joel.”

Her musical voice made me go weak. “Hi.” “I hope, um, this is a good time.”

I shut my car door without getting out. “It’s a good time. How are you?” I was trying to sound normal, but to my ears my voice sounded strained. “I’m… I’m good,” she said.

I rubbed my face and looked at the liquor store again. God, had I really been thinking about going in there? What was wrong with me?

Katie inhaled deeply. “Listen, we haven’t seen each other in a while, and I wanted to call to, well… clarify things. It seems pretty obvious that you don’t want to hang out anymore, but I also don’t want to make assumptions. So if that’s the case, that’s fine. I would like to actually end our relationship, though, rather than watch it do one of those fade-aways.”

I bit the inside of my lip. What had I been thinking? Katie was the one good thing I had going in my life, and I’d pushed her away.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I miss you, and I’m sorry that I kept canceling. I have a lot going on right now.”

There was a long pause, and my pulse quickened. It seemed likely that she wouldn’t accept my apology, and this would be the last time we spoke.

“Thank you,” she finally said. “What’s going on that’s a lot?”

I licked my lips. “My brother is in town. He just lost his job and he’s working on getting back on his feet.”

I’d started turning my back on Katie weeks before Daniel arrived at my house, but I didn’t want to go into all the reasons I’d done that.

Heck, I couldn’t go into the reasons, because I didn’t understand them myself. I only knew that there came a point in every relationship where I started feeling like a caged animal, and my only choice was to get out or die.

“Is he okay?” Katie asked.

“Yeah, yeah. He’s fine.” I tugged at the roots of my hair. My heart was still racing, and I didn’t know what to do to calm it down. “What are you doing right now?”

“I’m at home.”

I bit my lip. “Would you like to come over?”

Again, there was a pause. I realized how my question sounded. “For dinner,” I clarified. “Daniel and I made fajitas.”

“Sure. I’d like that. Send me your address. I can leave in a few.” “Okay… Thank you.”

“What for?” she asked.

“For being forgiving. I know I’ve been an awful friend lately.”

She laughed. “Hey, I didn’t say I forgave you. I just said I’m coming over for fajitas.”

That made me grin. “Fair enough.”

“But the chances of my forgiving you are… high. So long as this doesn’t happen again. Not that I’m trying to give you an ultimatum, I just—”

“It’s all right,” I cut in. “I understand, and you deserve better.” I swallowed. “I’m glad you’re coming over. This will really brighten my night.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

If only she had the slightest idea of just how much.