George - Chapter Twenty Four: Brother, Son, Husband, Father

This chapter can be read on it's own, or can be read with Trev's chapter which can be found here. It's the one time that the two stories have chapters for the same event so it just made sense to me to publish them at the same time. While the event is the same, their reactions and experiences are different and I think each chapter shows just how different George and Trev are by revealing what each chose to center their thoughts and attention on.

While I'm disclosing things, I might as well mention that there's one picture that might be considered NSFW and as always, this is a long chapter with a ton of pictures. 

Hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for reading!

****George****

“Steph? Are you home?” Only a few lights were on in the apartment which meant more than likely she wasn’t, but I wanted to be sure. Soon after we returned from our honeymoon I came home to a similar sight and assumed that she wasn’t there. The scare I gave her as I entered our bedroom made her jump and scream loud enough that I wondered if the whole city heard it. She spent the next several minutes playfully scolding me and smacking my arm.  I had learned my lesson that day, always let her know when you’re home.

The memory made me chuckle as I made my way up the stairs to change clothes. This had been the normal lately. I’d return home to an empty apartment, change, start dinner, and Steph would come rushing into the apartment like a car on two wheels. I was glad for it though. She and Ethan began the prep work for their catering business after we returned from Italy and even though it was hard work and she was exhausted most nights, it was worth it to see her happy doing what she dreamt of for so long.

After changing I made my way back down to the kitchen and took inventory of what food we had in the fridge. One of the drawers contained a block of parmesan and it reminded me that we had ingredients for pasta sauce. I had enough time to cut everything up, place it in a pot, and start simmering it before I heard the sound of the elevator dinging and her rushed footsteps on the wood floor.

“Shitfire I’m sorry!” She rushed to the kitchen, flung her bags down on the floor, and quickly placed a kiss on my cheek.  “I was about to walk out the door when Ethan asked me if I’d look over some numbers with him. Which I told him wasn’t necessary since I trust him and know that he’ll keep us on track financially, but he insisted.”

Her rushed entrance made her cheeks flush and eyes dance, making her look completely adorable and too irresistible not to touch. My hand hooked around her waist and pulled her closer. “He just wants to make sure that you’re both on the same page.”

A playful smile appeared on her lips as she moved even closer. “I know. . .” She studied her hands as they started to rub my chest, making every nerve in my body tingle with anticipation. “I just wanted to get home.” Her eyes crept up, and the suggestive way they peeked through her lashes at me and the huskiness in her voice made any reassuring words about Ethan and the catering business or thoughts about the simmering dinner vanish.

“I’m glad you’re home.” The drop in my voice made her smile widen and my hold on her tightened to press her body into mine. There were several moments of the day that I looked forward to; waking up to find her in my arms, sitting down to eat dinner with her, and our first kiss after returning home from a busy day apart. It never failed in melting away the stress and worries of the day. Our kiss that night did just that and deepened into something more just as the sauce started to sputter, interrupting what could have been.

“You’re making spaghetti?” She stood on her tiptoes to peek over my shoulder and I nodded. “If I’d gotten home sooner I could’ve helped you.” She somewhat whined as her shoulders sank in disappointment.

“You’ve been cooking all day; and I wanted to make dinner for you.” She spent the previous two weeks tweaking recipes so they could be produced in larger quantities for catering events and I knew she had to be somewhat burned out on cooking.

“You do make a delicious pasta sauce. . .” She somewhat gave in and I gave her another quick kiss before she rushed upstairs to change. By the time she returned, dinner was ready and waiting on the table.

“Thank you for making dinner.” She smiled at me as we both sat down.

“It brought back some memories.” I admitted and her smile turned into an ear to ear grin. “I didn’t hand pick the tomatoes or cook it on a stove in a Tuscan villa, but hopefully it’s just as good.” During our last night in Tuscany we had a romantic spaghetti dinner that we picked vegetables for and I somehow convinced her to let me cook for her. It had been a fitting end to our time there before the second half of our honeymoon in Venice.

I anxiously waited for the verdict as she leaned over her plate and took a bite. “It’s just as delicious as it was then.” She smiled up at me and I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction from her praise. I joined her in sampling the sauce and several minutes of contented silence passed before she inquired about my day.

“Did you have a lot of patients today?” She asked as she twirled some spaghetti onto her fork.

“About the same as I usually do.” I looked down at my plate before continuing, knowing that what I told her next would make me revisit a part of my day I didn’t really want to. “I did receive an interesting call though. . .” The sudden halt of her twirling fork was enough to tempt me to glance up at her and she raised her eyebrow, coaxing me to continue. “Mom called me.”

Her head snapped back a little. “At work?”

I nodded. “I was just as surprised as you are.” Mom never called me when I was working, and just like Steph, it had made me worry. “She wanted to ask me something and it was important enough that she wanted to ask as soon as possible.”

“What did she ask you?”

I took a deep breath and sighed as I remembered our conversation. “She called sometime this morning and I immediately knew she was anxious about something. . .She was blabbering and whenever she does that she’s either nervous or upset. After a minute or two, she mentioned that she talked to Trev and Will the night before which led me to ask her what was wrong, since it’s rare that she’d call three of us in a matter of hours.”

I paused for a moment as I remembered the next part of our conversation and would have stayed lost in my thoughts if I hadn’t felt Steph’s hand on my arm. “If you don’t tell me what she said, I’m going to start imagining the worst. . .” Her voice shook a little from the worry she felt and I nodded.

“She’s fine, it’s just. . .I knew that the day was coming up and how long it’s been, but until I got her call today, it hadn’t really sunk in. She called them and asked if they’d be available and willing to go to Appaloosa for the anniversary of Dad’s passing. We’ve never done that before. When I lived in town she and I would meet at the cemetery and have dinner together, but the family hasn’t ever come together on that day.” I sat back and fixed my gaze on an ambiguous spot on the ceiling. “I don’t know, maybe it’s hit her harder this year with it being the tenth anniversary and she wants us around. . .Maybe it’s because this is the first time that the family’s been reunited since Charlotte left. . .Whatever the reason, it’s important enough that she’s called each one of us.”

I looked back down to see Steph nodding. “So did she call Charlotte too?”

I nodded. “She called her after we talked and I got a text message from Charlotte soon after saying that she and Ethan would be going.” I had wanted nothing more in the years since Charlotte’s disappearance than to see my family reunited and supporting one another in our grief, but the reality of it happening didn’t produce the feelings I once dreamed of. After talking with Mom, I realized that what I envisioned before was nothing more than a fantasy. We wouldn’t be the family that I dreamt about; a family that was as close as we were when Dad passed away and made up of people who didn’t have many struggles in their lives. Instead we would be a family that had drifted apart and was just starting to come back together, full of people that had faced or was facing struggles that led to us breaking away from one another and I once again found myself realizing that what I wished for as a brother and son was different and at odds with what I should know better as a psychologist.

“We’re going, aren’t we?” Her gentle voice pulled me away from my thoughts and I slowly nodded.

“If you’re okay with it, then yes.”

“Of course I’m okay with it.” Her hand once again rested on my arm and I squeezed it with mine. “Maybe we could even offer Trev a ride. . .” She hinted and I had to admit that it wasn’t a bad idea. Not only because we hadn’t seen each other much since the football season started, but also because I was more than a little worried about how he would handle the upcoming anniversary.

“That’s a good idea.” I turned to give her a grateful smile and couldn’t help but notice how little she’d eaten. “Is it not any good?” I motioned towards the plate and her eyes snapped down to look at it.

“No! It is!” A guilty smile crept across her lips as she looked up at me. “Part of trying new things with recipes is that you have to sample the food. . .”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “So you had an extended lunch?” Her head quickly bobbed up and down and I chuckled.

“How about I clean up the dishes while you call Trev?” She offered and I stared at her in awe. Once again she had known when I needed to talk, helped pull me away from the thoughts, and even though I hadn’t voiced my concerns about Trev, she knew me well enough to know that I was anxious to talk to him. Like many other times in the last several months, I wondered how I ever lived without the thoughtful, generous, and extraordinary woman that sat next to me. Overcome by the love I felt for her, I stood up and encouraged her to join me. The warmth and love that I saw in her eyes as I gazed into them took my breath away and if the urge to kiss her wasn’t so strong, I would’ve gotten completely lost in them.

Her warm breath tickled my lips and the sensation sent a shiver down my spine that intensified even more when our lips met.  What started off as a kiss to show her how much I loved her soon turned into something more and I once again found myself happily lost in her kisses. “The dishes and call can wait.” I breathed against her lips and we resumed what the sputtering sauce had previously interrupted.

I eventually called Trev and two weeks later the three of us set off for Appaloosa. We were to meet Charlotte and Ethan there, and Will and Emily, minus Brooke who stayed with Emily’s parents, were scheduled to fly in a couple hours before our estimated arrival time. Under different circumstances, the trip home might have been more enjoyable. Trev didn’t retreat into himself and participated in the conversation, and the vivid oranges, reds, and yellows of the changing leaves gave us something interesting to look at. But we all knew what was waiting for us in Appaloosa, and the knowledge of what was to come led to a more solemn car ride.

Once we entered town, the conversations stopped and I glanced in the rearview mirror at Trev. He seemed to still be doing well, better than I expected and I breathed a sigh of relief that he was. My next surprise came as we pulled into the driveway. Trev jumped out before I could put the car in park and I immediately wondered what caused him to bolt. He walked around, stretching his legs and seemed to enjoy being able to do so. His enjoyment was soon ended though as Charlotte pulled in the driveway, almost running him over.

“Hey?” Steph tenderly touched my arm. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and tore my attention away to give her a reassuring smile. “I’m good. . .” I motioned towards Trev and Charlotte who had started to tease each other. “I’m just surprised at how the two of them are acting.”

Her quizzical eyes moved to the outside of the car to see Charlotte punch Trev in the arm. “They seem to be doing better than last time we were here.” Her reference to March and the family gathering for Grandma’s funeral brought a warmth to my heart and a knot to my stomach. Even during the sad moments those short months ago, there was one good thing; it led to Steph and me talking about our feelings for each other. Even from beyond the grave, Grandma seemed to play matchmaker and the thought made me smile. But I didn’t look as fondly at another memory from that visit; the drinking binge of Trev’s that led to his downward spiral. I glanced back out at him and Charlotte and sighed as I prayed that this time would be different.

I nodded again to let Steph know that I was okay and we exited the car. I mentioned that it was probably a good idea to head to the front door and we weren’t disappointed when we arrived. Mom was of course waiting on the porch for us and as usual, joyfully welcomed us back home.

“Oh goodness! Just look at all of you!” She gushed and hugged each of us. “Will and Emily are inside so hurry on in so we can all see each other.” Like a mother hen and her chicks, she gathered us through the front door and into the hallway where everyone greeted each other. From the moment all of us were together, through preparing dinner, and until we sat at the dinner table, the house bustled with activity. Some helped with the last minute meal preparations, others helped get drinks, and Steph and I helped set the table. But the chaos ended when we all sat down, and once again there was nothing to hear but a solemn hush.

We ate in silence for several minutes, each lost in our own thoughts about who was missing from the table. I eventually chanced a glance at Trev, who again surprised me by meeting my stare and nodding, and then turned my attention to Charlotte. She sat close to Ethan, and even though she wasn’t her usual peppy self, she seemed okay. I lastly looked at Will, who I caught doing the same as me and we exchanged a small, guilty smile. Having satisfied my curiosity, I began to eat my dinner and eventually enjoyed the light conversation that began as Mom’s curiosity on how we were prompted her to break the silence.

“So it’s going good? The catering business?”

“I think so.” Ethan looked at Steph to verify that she thought the same and she nodded.

“We have our first event scheduled for next week. It’s a family reunion that we’re providing the food and beverages for.” She paused, looked back at Ethan and shrugged. “It’s a start.”

Ethan nodded. “The plan is to start smaller and gradually work our way up to larger events. Something that will hopefully happen from word of mouth and a little advertising.”

“Steph mentioned in the car that the both of you have been busy with prep work.” Trev added.

“We have. The space we’ve rented isn’t huge but we’ve had to update some of the appliances and stock the kitchen with cookware, bakeware, utensils. . .I actually had a dream one night about baking sheets.” Ethan joked and we all chuckled. “It’s been hard work but we’re almost there. And Charlotte and George have been incredible during the last several weeks. We definitely couldn’t do this without their help and support.”

Steph squeezed my hand under the table and I glanced at her. “It was after the day that Charlotte and I came to help you clean and stock the shelves that I realized why Steph has been so exhausted when she gets home.” She squeezed my hand again and sweetly smiled at me.

“It’s been a lot of work.” Ethan agreed with me and I turned my attention back to Steph. She smiled at me and then glanced down the table at Will who answered a question about his latest novel. As she continued to listen to him, she placed her fork on her plate and my eyes drifted down to it. She’d barely touched her food.  The first night that I noticed it, I accepted her explanation that she’d eaten too much during the day, but after that night it happened again, and again. I spent the rest of dinner trying to remember how many times the food on her plate had gone mostly untouched and wondered if there were times in between that I hadn’t noticed.  I wanted to ask her about it, but after dinner the family gathered in the family room and the opportunity didn’t present itself until we went upstairs for the night.

“You didn’t eat much tonight.” I hinted and she nonchalantly shrugged.

“I was caught up in the dinner conversation. Especially with what Will and Emily had to say. It’s a shame they live so far away. I really like it when we see them.” Her attempt to make small talk and change the subject didn’t go unnoticed by me but I decided to play along.

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She sweetly smiled at me and I secretly started to watch her as she got ready for bed. My scrutiny of her body revealed things that I failed to notice before. . .she had lost weight since we returned from our honeymoon but her breasts seemed to be slightly larger. . .”Steph?” She pulled a nightgown over her head and turned around.

“Hmm?” She raised her eyebrows in expectation of my question, but I got lost in my observations again. She had bags under her eyes that I hadn’t noticed earlier, which I knew she shouldn’t have since she hadn’t worked that day. My staring caused her to guiltily look away and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” I blurted out.

Her head darted up and she cautiously peeked at me through her lashes for a split second before her gaze once again fell to the floor. “What makes you think that?”

“The fact that you’re not denying it speaks volumes.” I said as I walked towards her. She continued to look at the floor even after I tenderly and reassuringly began to caress her arms. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I whispered, trying to keep her from hearing the hurt that I felt. But even my hushed voice I couldn’t hide it.  Her shoulders slumped and she sighed as her eyes slowly raised up from the floor to meet mine.

“I. . .” She sighed and tried to look away but I placed my hands on her cheeks and slowly turned her head to look at me again. Our eyes locked and I looked into hers in a way that let her know that I would patiently wait, but I fully expected her to tell me. “I wasn’t sure.” She started and then thought for a moment. “For a while I thought I was just tired from trying to get the catering business up and running.” I nodded, letting her know that I thought that too. “And there were several nights that I thought that my lack of appetite really was from eating too much during the day; because that’s what I did. I woke up, barely ate anything since nothing sounded good for breakfast, found myself famished by afternoon, only to then not want to eat at dinner. It was only after I started noticing other signs that I started to think I was. So I bought a pregnancy test and hid it in the apartment. I thought I’d wait to take it until after we got back to Bridgeport since I knew that these next few days could be hard for you and the family, but I couldn’t sleep all night thinking about how it was in the apartment.”

“You took a test this morning?” I asked completely shocked.

She pushed her lips together and nodded. “You were still sleeping. The second I saw it was positive, I wished that I had never given in, because I wanted when I told you to be happy, not during. . .now.”

I pulled her against me and held her head against my chest, attempting to reassure her. “Oh, Steph. . .” My whisper into her hair seemed to be her undoing and she began to cry. I held her even tighter and rested my cheek on the top of her head, patiently waiting for the end of her cries that were hurting my heart. “Are you mad at me?” She eventually mumbled into my chest.

I kissed the top of her head and shook mine. “No. I’m not mad. I still wish you’d told me when you found out, but I’m not mad.” Her head yanked upward and her eyes got wide as they looked into mine.

“You’re not. . .upset, are you?” She gulped, causing a strand of hair to fall over her forehead. I gently swept it back and let my hand glide down the side of her face before caressing her cheek with my thumb.

“Something good can come from something bad. . .”I whispered what I had heard growing up from both Dad and Mom and smiled down at her through my tears. “This may not have been the happiest time to tell me, Sunshine, but I’m still thrilled.” I pulled her close again and wrapped her in a protective bear hug, gently rocking her back and forth. With each side to side motion, the initial shock wore off and a soul filling joy started in my heart and crept through the rest of my body until I couldn’t take it anymore. Giving into my joy, I squeezed her even tighter and picked her up off the ground, swinging her around.

“Shitfire.” I breathed into her ear after placing her back down. The belly laugh that she let out made me loosen my arms and look down to see a smile that widened and made her eyes squint until they almost weren’t visible.

“Shitfire, indeed.” She chuckled her agreement. The joy I saw on her face mirrored what I felt in my heart and besides the day that she became my wife, I couldn’t remember a moment that I was happier. My arms tightened around her again and I kissed her lips as I carried her closer to the bed. We settled in under the covers, holding and kissing each other in blissful happiness until it became impossible for us to keep our eyes open. We fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms; and our dreams filled with images of our soon to be family.

A little girl with curly brown hair and dancing blue eyes ran towards me through a patch of lush green grass. The blinding sunlight bounced off her curls and made her and the white dress she wore glow, but I didn’t shield my eyes. Instead, I knelt down to see her better. She giggled as she continued to run, almost tripping over her feet, and stretched out her arms. The force from her barreling into me almost knocked me over and she giggled her satisfaction in my ear.  “Swing me around, Daddy.”

Her arms clung around my neck as I swooped her up and began to spin us around faster and faster, until the surrounding world was a blur. For a brief moment in time, the only thing I heard was our laughs, the only thing I saw was her curls flying through the air, and the only thing I smelled was the faint fragrance of lavender. As we stopped spinning, my arms squeezed her and she looked at me with a blinding grin. All was quiet until a warm wind began to blow the leaves of the tree near us and she turned to first look at it, and then the ground.

My eyes followed hers, first stopping at the red and orange autumn tree, and then to the spot on the ground her eyes focused on. I felt my breath catch as I saw Dad’s headstone and stared at it, completely confused by why it was there until I realized that we were standing in the family cemetery. I continued to hold her as I turned around, realizing that the lush green grass that I noticed moments before was in an empty part of the cemetery, and the tree was the one next to where Dad was buried.  “Grandpa.” Her voice cut through the confusing fog and I turned my head to see her pointing to the headstone. Another burst of wind made the grass and leaves rustle, but the new chill of it didn’t make me freeze, it was the pressure of a large hand on my shoulder that did.  Her serious eyes moved behind me and then squinted from the gleeful smile that spread across her lips that whispered, “Grandpa.” 

   

I jerked awake to find myself sleeping in my old bed, a familiar pile of wavy brown hair lying on the pillow beside me, and my heart beating faster than I could ever remember. It was obviously a dream but there were moments of it that seemed completely real; like the moment I felt the hand on my shoulder. . .I sat up and shook my head. It was just a dream. I tried telling myself and looked around the room, trying forget about it. But as I glanced at each object, the same ones my eyes had seen on the morning ten years before, I instead got lost in the memories of the day that our lives forever changed.

We all woke up not realizing that anything would be different that day. It was unseasonably warm for a day in late October, but nothing else hinted that something earth shattering would happen.  I could remember Charlotte and me rock, paper, scissoring as we tried to determine who would drive to school that day. I won, thankfully. I always felt like I would lose my breakfast when Charlotte drove. Will and Trev both drove themselves since Trev had football practice and Will had writing club. When Charlotte and I said goodbye to them in the driveway, I had no reason to think I’d see them again, except us passing in the hallway.

I couldn’t remember much of the rest of the school day since most of my classes were the same as they were every day of my Junior year; and as I headed into my last class of the day, Chemistry, I had no reason to think it would be any different. Halfway through class though, I was called to the main office and on my way there I ran into Charlotte, and then Will and Trev. We didn’t speak a word as the four of us walked the remaining way to the office; it was as if we knew something was wrong and were preparing ourselves for it. When we saw Grandma and Grandpa waiting for us, we knew it to be true.

We asked them what was wrong, they of course refused to tell us. The only thing they revealed was that Dad had been hurt and was at the hospital. They remained completely calm the whole time; during the ride to the hospital, while we waited to hear news from the doctor, even during the moments after when it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under our feet.

The trip home was a complete blur. I remember Uncle Jeff carrying Mom upstairs so she could lie down and the four of us sitting in the family room with Grandma and Grandpa. Eventually I noticed Uncle Charlie, Aunt Kate, and Aunt Star; how and when they got there, I didn’t know. As we sat in complete silence I couldn’t imagine that the pain I felt could get any worse. I was wrong, of course. The day we buried Dad was even worse.

The sun shined bright on that day, brighter than I could ever remember it shining on an October day. In an odd way it seemed kind of fitting since it was the last day that I remember the four of us leaning on and supporting each other. After the day we buried him it felt like we all pulled away from each other and tried to find our own ways of dealing with the loss. Everyone ran away. Trev and Will to college, Charlotte to Bridgeport. . .and if I was honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I did too, in my own way. I got lost in my studies and then eventually in my work, so much so that I isolated myself and pushed almost everyone away. It wasn’t until I ran into a wounded, feisty, sarcastic, beautiful woman that started to change. But that might not have happened if I hadn’t listened to the voice inside my head that told me to help her, or if I had ignored. . .

I flung the covers off and jumped out of bed. I hadn’t admitted to anyone what made me initially stop, I hadn’t even let myself admit it, and in the year since, I tried to forget it. I told myself over and over again that it wasn’t real and just about the time I would start to believe it hadn’t happened, something would make me question my sureness about what parts were real and what was imagined.

****Steph****

The feeling of extra covers landing on me and the shift of weight on the mattress from George jumping off the bed jolted me awake. The room was lit enough from the rising sun so that when I turned to look at his side of the bed I could see him start to pace. The words to ask him what he was doing were on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t ask them. The internal battle that ranged inside him was written all over his face and I decided to not interrupt his thoughts, at least not right away. Instead, I watched him pace back and forth between the nightstand and the end of the bed, wondering what could cause such a battle inside him.

Is he upset about the baby? The question popped into my mind and I immediately knew it wasn’t true. Just hours before he acted excited and happy when I told him; or more accurately, he guessed. I should have known that he would be too observant to keep it hidden from him. But the shock of learning that I really was pregnant had led to my doubt in telling him and I thought maybe he would be distracted from the days’ coming events to pay much attention to me. He wasn’t so distracted the night before, but his pacing and the fact that he hadn’t even noticed that I was sitting up in bed, watching him, was overwhelming evidence that he was at that moment.

Maybe the fact that it’s the actual anniversary of his Dad’s passing has him so upset. . .As I looked at his furrowed brows and the dead set determination on his face I knew that wasn’t it, at least not all of it. I didn’t have any way to know for certain, but something in my gut told me that there was more to his actions than what day it was. Even the action of me standing up and walking around the end of bed didn’t faze him. If anything, he became even more focused on his thoughts and started to mumble to himself as he paced.

“George. . .” I softly called out to him but he gave no indication if he heard me. His pacing and mumbling continued and I knew that it would take more for me to get his attention than using my voice. Most times, if me saying his name didn’t work, the touch of my hand would. But he was usually sitting or standing still, not pacing.

The thought then crossed my mind to stand in his pacing path, since he would surely see me standing in his way. As he turned to head back towards the nightstand, I moved to stand next to the bed so he still had room to turn and take several steps. I watched as he turned and ducked my head down to try to make eye contact with his downcast gaze, but it didn’t do any good and by the time I realized that he didn’t notice me standing there, we were set on a collision course and there was nothing I could do about it. He plowed into me and my butt took the brunt of my fall on the hard, wood floor.

“Oh my God, Steph!” He said, finally coming out of his trance. “I’m so sorry.” He bent and reached down to help me stand back up. “Did I hurt you. . .or anything else?” His worried eyes traveled to my stomach as I stood up.

“No.” I shook my head and rubbed my sore bottom for a moment. 

“I’m okay.” He nodded but the worry lines on his forehead deepened and he shook his head.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see you standing there.” He turned to look at my side of the bed and continued to shake his head in disbelief. “When did you wake up?”

“When you threw the covers on me.” I tried to tease in hopes that it would let him know that I really was okay. It didn’t work though, he continued to fret, which concerned me. As focused and serious as he could be, those episodes were usually short lived and most often I could snap him out of them with my voice, a gentle touch, and sometimes a little teasing. But even after running into me and being concerned if he hurt me, he still wasn’t completely focused on me or anything else happening around him. His attention still centered on whatever battle he fought in his head. “George, what’s wrong?”

“I. . .” A pained expression appeared on his face and his voice caught on any words that might have followed. His downcast eyes peeked up at me and before I could say anything to persuade him to continue, he turned away and stared out the window. But his attempt to shut me out with his silence and turned back only worked for a moment before my concern for him prompted me to reach out to him.

“George. . .” My hand barely rested on his shoulder before he spun around with a haunted look on his face. “Lover, what’s wrong?” I desperately pleaded with him. He tried to turn his face away but I stopped him placing my hands on his cheeks and turning his gaze back to me.

“I think I remember it, but I’m not sure.” He whispered with a distant look in his eyes.

“Remember what?”

His eyes slowly raised up to meet mine, studying me for a moment before quickly looking away and continuing. “This must be what Trev felt like.”

All kinds of worrying thoughts filled my head. “George, you’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s going on.” He nodded but didn’t look at me.

“Do you remember me telling you about Trev seeing Dad, when he had his heart attack?” I nodded and studied his skin and face. He was pale but not pale like someone who had a heart attack, and he had just paced the floor without difficulty. . .my fears about him possibly having a heart attack faded.  “Besides seeing Dad in that white place, he said that Dad showed him different times in his life that he felt a hand on his shoulder but when he turned around there was no one there.” I nodded and started to wonder even more about his reaction to my hand on his shoulder. “He said that Dad showed him that when it happened, it was Dad letting him know he was there or showing him something.” Tears filled his eyes and his breath became labored as he tried to stop himself from crying. Seeing him like that was too painful. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him hard, hoping that it would bring some comfort to him, and me. I eventually felt his arms raise and tighten around me, just before he continued.

“I felt it that night. . . the night I stopped in the alley.” I jerked by head back to look up at him and tried to process what he told me.

“A hand? On your shoulder?”  He barely nodded. “The night we met?” His nod was more noticeable and sure that time and the weight of his admission began to hit me. I knew that he hadn’t really believed Trev about the experience he had the night of his heart attack. He’d even admitted once to me, months before, that he didn’t think such a thing was possible. The fact that he was admitting it was huge and I took a deep breath before asking the next question. “Do you think it was him?”

The absolute certainty that I saw in his eyes as he forcefully shook his head, slowly gave way to doubt and anguish. “I don’t know.” He choked out. “I just don’t know.”

“Are you thinking about this because of today?” I asked, trying to figure out why it weighed more on him at that very moment.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t guess. I had a dream.” He stood a little straighter and his mind seemed to clear a little with the realization.

“What happened in your dream?” I asked as my hand reassuringly petted his arm. He told me about the curly brown haired girl, the bright sun, warm wind, the cemetery, the hand on his shoulder and the girl smiling as she looked behind him, saying “Grandpa.”

For the first time since we woke up that morning he tenderly looked into my eyes. “You should have seen her, Steph. She looked just like I’ve pictured you as a little girl in my mind.” His hand stroked my cheek and I placed my hand over his, smiling at his comment. “But the hand. . .” His tender look morphed into a worrying one. “It was just like I remember it feeling that night and the day I picked Trev up at the treatment facility.”

“You’ve felt it twice?” He nodded. To me there was no question. Once could maybe be explained away, but twice. . .I was more inclined to believe that such things could happen though. George was more of a logic and reason person, relying on those ideas more than on faith; at least when it came to what we were talking about. “Have you talked to the others about it?”

“No!” He looked horrified at the idea. “I’m not even sure if it’s true, not completely.”

“Well, you know Trev thinks it is.” I tried to reason with him. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

He thought about it for a minute and then looked skeptically at me. “Maybe. . .”

We both stood there in silence for several moments, lost in our own thoughts about what he had just admitted. As unnerving as George found the reality that his dad might be communicating with or guiding him and the others, the thought of it made me smile. Especially if he had really been even partially responsible for George and I meeting. “I wonder if Charlotte’s experienced anything like that?” I absently thought out loud.

“Don’t. Please don’t ask her.” He begged me and I couldn’t remember ever seeing him look more desperate.

“But don’t you want to know?”

He shook his head. “If I do, then I’ll ask her.” I barely nodded and let my gaze fall to the floor. I knew if it was me I would want to know if someone had experienced the same thing. It would put my mind at ease and either confirm or not confirm if it really happened and I knew if he talked to them he would feel better. . .I opened my mouth to try to convince him but his hands squeezed my arms a little harder. “Please, Steph. . .” I looked back up into his pleading blue eyes and stared at them, trying to win the contest of convincing him that I was right. I eventually conceded my defeat and sighed.

“If that’s what you want. . .” But I think you should. I didn’t speak the last part but he knew I still thought it.

“It is. Maybe if the moment presents itself later. . .” It didn’t seem likely. From what we heard the night before, the whole day would be jam packed. That, and I really didn’t see George walking up to Charlotte, Trev or Will and starting a conversation about feeling their Dad’s hand on his shoulder. Even if he wanted to, he’d argue that it wasn’t the right time; we both seemed to have a habit of doing that. Which brought me to the question about when to announce that I was pregnant.

“What about. . .” I blushed, still not used to the idea, let alone saying it out loud. He raised his eyebrow, expecting me to continue which caused me to blush again. Instead of answering him, I looked down at my stomach, hoping his gaze would follow. He didn’t answer at first, but slowly raised his hand and rested it on my still flat abdomen.  

“Do we want to keep it secret. . .or think we can?” He finished my question. I quickly glanced up to see his tender eyes still focused on my stomach and the same adoring smile that had been on his lips when he described the curly brown haired girl to me.

“Not if you keep smiling like that.” I teased, causing his smile to grow and his eyes to squint until they were barely visible. As much as I wished that he would talk to someone about his dad, the sight of him genuinely smiling relieved me.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to hide this, Sunshine.” His use of my nickname offered further proof of the return of his lighthearted mood. “Especially if you keep eating so little.” His teasing only lasted a second before his smile faded and he became completely serious. “You need to see a doctor when we get back home. You’ve lost weight. . .You haven’t been getting sick have you?”

I shook my head. “No, it hasn’t been that bad, just that my stomach doesn’t feel right sometimes.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything. The night before he’d been too shocked at the news and didn’t have much to say or have time to think. His present silence wasn’t due to either, though. His eyes were completely focused and I knew if I could see inside his head that the wheels would be turning at record speed. “Your stomach must have been upset for a while if you’ve lost weight. . .” He hinted and once again proved that he had an insane ability at putting pieces of a puzzle together.

“I’m guessing a couple months.” I offered; knowing that his statement was his roundabout way of asking how far along I thought I was.

“Promise me that when we get back you’ll make an appointment.” He expectantly raised his brows at me. I thought about making him a deal that I’d go to the doctor if he talked to someone about his dad. . .but decided not to. On any other day I would’ve. Instead, I nodded my agreement and for the remainder of the morning we both fluxed between excitement and happiness about the future, and worry and sadness about the day ahead.

****George****

By the time we left the house for the cemetery, I was exhausted. No matter where I looked, my thoughts and emotions bounced from one extreme to the other. If my gaze lingered on Steph, I first felt joy about her being pregnant and meeting our little girl or boy in the near future. But thinking about a little girl reminded me of my dream and the disconcertion it caused stole my joy away. If I tried to look elsewhere, I was met by one of my siblings and the continued nagging feeling that I should talk to at least one of them. But I didn’t want to, at least not right before going to the cemetery. Occasionally my attention focused on Mom and I wondered how she would react to learning that she’d soon have another grandchild, but just like with Steph, I’d start to think back to the little girl in my dream and the unabated nagging continued.

The drive to the cemetery wasn’t so bad. Concentrating on the road kept my mind occupied enough that I didn’t think about my dream or Dad, but the diversion only lasted the five minutes it took to drive to the family cemetery. As I stepped out of the car, I dreaded my thoughts wandering back to my dream, but as I watched Trev climb out of the car, they turned instead to him, or more accurately, how he had been in very few of my thoughts that morning.  The realization was like a smack across my face and as I lagged behind and watched the rest of the family, I realized that I hadn’t thought much of anyone. Me, Mr. Psychologist hadn’t thought of anyone that morning, except myself.

It was unthinkable. It was unbelievable. I was the one who was supposed to have it all together. The one who others could turn to if they needed, who worried about everyone first and myself last, who should have been the least rattled that day. And yet, as I looked around at first Mom, then Will, Trev, and Charlotte, I realized that wasn’t the case and I knew why. With my thoughts either preoccupied with my dream or trying to forget it, I hadn’t been able to think of much else.

I glanced at Steph who stood next to me, and remembered our earlier conversation where she tried to convince me to talk to someone about Dad. I had several reasons why I didn’t want to; I wasn’t convinced that it really happened, I didn’t know if the others would believe me. . .like I hadn’t believed Trev. My stomach knotted as the next reason crept into my head. . .that I would be admitting that I was wrong. Because if I admitted how much I didn’t want to be wrong, then I’d also be admitting that my ego and pride were more important to me than anything or anyone else. The thought sickened me and I tried to push it away and instead concentrated on Mom when her voice broke through the silence.

"It's just us. No one else is coming." She quietly admitted causing us all to turn and look at her. "And there's no "service." It's just us remembering him." She took several steps toward Dad’s headstone before turning around to look at us. "I know that it's still painful, and that some days it's harder to think of him and smile, but he wouldn't want us to keep mourning like this. We should be celebrating his life, not mourning it."

She took a big breath and looked up at the sky before continuing. "He was such a firm believer that good things come from something bad and as I look at all of you, I can't argue with that. All of us have made choices in the last ten years that got us to where we are today, and some of those choices were made because of what happened. And while at the time the choices may not have seemed like the wisest, they've brought happiness into your lives. Something good can come from something bad." She whispered and my first thought was about my choice to stop on the edge of an alleyway.

Nothing about my choice should have been safe. I should have gotten my butt kicked by Tony, or worse, but I hadn’t. It was only as I stood in the cemetery, contemplating what Mom said and looking back on that fateful moment in the alley, that I realized that I had known I and whoever I was helping would be safe. I couldn’t offer a logical explanation if someone asked, and I didn’t feel completely comfortable admitting it; but I also couldn’t deny the certainty of me knowing it as I walked further into the darkened alley.

I glanced over at Trev as we continued to stand in silence and thought about his certainty. He never waived in his conviction about seeing or feeling Dad. He never listened to me when I tried to convince him otherwise; when I thought I knew better, when I thought I was right. I’d been so blind, so wrapped up in being the one who thought they knew more and in trying to live up to a standard that I placed on myself; being the good son who was reliable, perfect, didn’t run away and had everything figured out.

“…somewhere along the way, I think you lost who you were…” Mom’s observation the night I told her I was moving to Bridgeport rang even truer at that moment. She had meant it in a more positive way; that I had gotten so busy caring about others that I lost who I was, but I was seeing for the first time that what she said went beyond her meaning. Somewhere, in the last ten years, I became someone that I didn’t recognize and didn’t want to be.

As if on cue, I felt the gentle touch of a hand on my sleeve and my stomach sank from the thought that she would become aware of my faults when our eyes met. It took more courage than I thought I had to raise my eyes to look into hers; but instead of seeing disgust or shock, I saw the reassuring, compassionate eyes of the woman I loved. The only person who really knew what my thoughts were without me having to say a word. I questioned her with my eyes, and her hand began to rub my arm. 

“We’re going to give the five of you some time alone.” Her voice sounded far away and at first I didn’t understand what she meant. “I’ll be sitting over there if you need me.” She motioned with her head towards a bench that sat behind us. She gave my arm one more reassuring squeeze, and a kiss on my cheek before she and the other spouses walked away.

I turned back around and caught sight of the lone, autumn colored tree that stood next to Dad’s grave. It looked exactly how I remembered it looking in my dream and I wondered at my ability to recollect it so vividly. Then, just like in my dream, my eyes fell down to his stone and I held my breath for a moment, waiting to feel the pressure of a hand on my shoulder. It wasn’t until I didn’t feel it that I realized just how much I hoped for it. I let out a small, disappointed sigh and turned to look at Mom as she started to speak.

"He'd be proud of each and every one of you, just like I am." She scanned all of our faces and smiled. A day or two ago I would’ve believed her, would’ve been sure of her comment, but with me realizing I wasn’t happy with who I was, I couldn’t imagine that Dad would be.

"He'd be proud of you too, Mom." Will said and I had no problem agreeing with him. She sadly smiled and put an arm around him and the chain continued, until Charlotte put her arm around me and I her.  We stood there looking at the headstone in silence, each lost in our own thoughts; mine on how I needed to at least talk to Trev before we left Appaloosa.

"We should get going. The rest of the family is coming to the house for a late lunch, early dinner. But it's not a memorial. . .it's a celebration." Mom’s voice once again cut into my thoughts and each of us slowly turned to walk away.  I had just reached Steph when the wind began to blow and rustle the changing leaves of the tree that shaded Dad’s headstone. Everyone stopped and watched the leaves and I wondered at all of us having the same response to it. It was an observation that I filed away for later.

We returned back to the house, where the family members who were in town greeted us, and I waited for my opportunity to talk to Trev, or anyone else. It didn’t come though, at least not until everyone left. After the last family member went home, Mom mentioned us going outside and having a bonfire like we used to back in high school. After the emotional day that all of us had, everyone agreed that relaxing by a fire and roasting marshmallows sounded like a good idea.

The chilly air that hit me as I walked outside behind Steph made me instantly fret about her staying warm and being comfortable. I immediately set about finding her the most comfortable seat, making sure that someone was lighting a fire, finding a warm blanket, and tucking it in around her after she sat down. She knowingly smiled at me, and even in the limited light of the fire and the stars, I saw a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Are you going to keep this up for the next seven or eight months?” Within a millisecond, both Charlotte and Mom gasped.

“Are you. . .” Charlotte started.

“. . .Pregnant?” Mom finished. They and everyone else expectantly looked at us and I glanced back at Steph. Her mischievous smile widened, as her eyes questioned me, and I gave her a nod.

“I am.” She beamed up at me and I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her forehead.

“Oh my God!” Charlotte squealed and everyone offered us congratulations.

“But no one else knows.” Steph warned. “We’re trying to keep it secret until I go to the doctor.”

“Pshaw” Charlotte teasingly looked at me. “You think with him acting the way he is that no one’s going to figure it out? It’s like the cat! Remember? What was his name?” She looked around at Will and Trev hoping they would help her out.

“Mr. Whiskers.” Trev triumphantly offered.

“That’s it! Mr. Whiskers!” She turned to explain to Steph and everyone else. “So there was this stray cat that George found when we were six. . .”

“We were five.” I corrected her. “If you’re going to tell the story, at least get the details right.” I teased her back, causing her to roll her eyes at me.

“Whatever. We were five and he found a stray cat, that he named Mr. Whiskers. There was only one problem though, Mr. Whiskers was a Mrs. and not only that, she was pregnant. We found this out after Mom took her to the vet and George made it his “mission” to watch over her. Every minute he was home, he wouldn’t let her walk anywhere. He carried her, brushed her, and wrapped her in blankets. If he saw her on anything higher than a chair cushion, he’d pick her up and place her back on safe ground.”

“As we’ve established, I was five and worried about her.” I tried to defend myself.

“It doesn’t seem like much has changed in the last twenty one years. . .” Mom teased. “Although I’m glad to see that you’re not carrying Steph around.” Everyone, including me laughed. The next hour, almost hour and a half was spent with us reminiscing and telling old stories about each other. It was during a lull in our conversation that Mom stood up, causing us all to look at her. “Well, it’s been a long day and I think I’ll head to bed. Let you all have some time alone to reminisce.” She walked around our circle and hugged everyone before saying one final goodnight and walking into the house.

A quiet fell over us, one that felt like it lasted longer than it really did. Afraid to start the conversation that I knew needed to happen and end the silence that everyone else seemed content with, I instead looked into the flames of the fire and watched them dance. Watching them both energized and calmed me, and eventually the thought of starting a conversation with them about Dad didn’t seem so impossible. I looked at Steph, for one more sign of reassurance and was met with a nod and a look that encouraged me to get on with it. I took one more deep breath as I turned my head back towards everyone else and had every intention of breaking the silence.

“Do you. . .” Will started and I clamped my mouth shut from both trying to keep any words from escaping and the shock that Will was the first one to speak. “. . .Do you every wonder if he’s. . .around?” He cringed as he asked the question, as if he was afraid of the answer, probably mine more than anyone’s.

After a moment with no one replying, Trev spoke. “Well, you know what I think about that.” Will nodded and our circle grew quiet again. A voice inside my head tried to convince me that I should tell them what I experienced, to share what happened to me. But I was once again surprised when another voice entered the conversation.

“I sometimes think he is. . .” Charlotte whispered and pulled her knees up to her chest before she continued. “Sometimes the wind blows when it shouldn’t, sometimes. . .I feel something on my shoulder.” A collective gasp sounded from around the fire and we all looked at each other.

“When?” Will asked.

“Just. . .certain moments.” She leaned against Ethan and buried her head down in her knees.

“It happened to me after I returned to Paradise Island; when I was sitting in the tiki bar and saw Emily.” Will admitted causing Charlotte to peak up “I was typing away on my laptop, not paying any attention to what was happening around me, when all of a sudden I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked behind me and didn’t see anyone, but as I turned back around to focus once again on my laptop. . .” He paused as he smiled at Emily. “I saw Emily and immediately recognized her as the girl that I met during our family vacation. A little older, of course.” Emily sweetly smiled at him and stroked his cheek with her hand. It was obvious that she already knew the story, and as I turned to look at Trev, I realized that he didn’t looked shocked by it either.

“I felt it at Trev’s birthday party.” Charlotte blurted out and lowered her knees. Stunned gazes switched from Will to her as she continued. “I was watching George and Steph talk. . .” She glanced at us and I smiled at Steph knowing that the conversation she referred to was the one where I analyzed Steph. “. . .and just like Will, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, figuring it was Trev, but no one was standing near enough to touch my shoulder. The closest person was Ethan, but like I said, he was too far away to do it. It was soon after that, we came home for Christmas and you all started hounding me about. . .” She looked at Ethan and blushed. “How blind I was.” Just like Emily, Ethan didn’t looked shocked by what Charlotte had admitted, but everyone else did, including Trev who continued the conversation.

“I’ve felt it twice, once after the ASU team won the championship and the night that I saw Charlotte.” I felt my breath catch when he admitted the second. “I turned around to see who had put their hand on my shoulder and that’s when I saw Charlotte. Although, I didn’t know it was her when I first saw her. . .” His head slowly turned to look at me and he stared at me, like he had when we were younger and he knew I’d done something that was going to get me in trouble, or I would have to admit I was wrong. I nodded and looked away, knowing that the moment had arrived that I needed to share my experiences.

“The night that you and I met at Trev’s apartment?” I looked over at Charlotte. Her eyes grew larger by the second and her head bounced up and down in anticipation of me continuing. “I went for that walk where Steph and I met. . .and I had no intention of stopping at it or any alley, but something made me stop. I tried to ignore it and tell myself that it was a noise that made me stop, but it was the feeling of a hand on my shoulder that did, and then I heard a noise.” I looked over at Steph and she looked prouder than I had ever seen her. Her encouraging nod prodded me to continue.

“And I felt it again the day that I met Trev at the treatment facility.” I slowly turned my head to look at Trev and he nodded.

“Outside the diner.” The certainty of his statement struck me. In the months since that day he never once questioned me about it, never once tried to use his perceptions of what happened as a way to persuade me that I was wrong about my views on Dad’s presence. Yet he’d known, and could have easily argued with me like I had with him. He’d shown me grace, when I’d shown him none and that enlightenment made an overwhelming feeling of shame wash over me. Even as he waited for my response, he still showed no hint of anger or the need for retribution, making me feel even more shameful and I could barely look at him as I confirmed his suspicions with a nod.

“So if we’ve all experienced it. . .?” Charlotte thought out loud.

“Then the odds of it being true are overwhelming.” Will finished and she nodded. “Wouldn’t you say, George?” My mouth went dry as every set of eyes turned to look at me, waiting for me to admit what we all knew was true. I swallowed hard and looked first at him, then Charlotte, and lastly Trev.

“I don’t see any other conclusion.” I finally admitted and saw a satisfied nod from Trev.

“Do you think, Mom knows or has experienced it too?” Charlotte wondered as she quickly looked around at everyone. “Maybe we should tell her. . .”

“I don’t know if we should.” Trev interrupted her.

“Why?”

“Because I talked to her last night about my experiences and she never once mentioned if the same thing’s happened to her.”

“But we should at least let her know. . .” Charlotte continued to argue with him.

“I think Trev’s right.” I interrupted and Charlotte couldn’t hide her shock as she turned to look at me. “She already knows from Trev telling her last night, and if she’s had the same experiences she’s obviously not ready to talk about them since she didn’t tell him.  If she wants to talk about it, she will, when she’s ready.”

She glanced at Trev and then Will who both nodded their agreement. The sigh that escaped signaled her resistance to agree, but her nod let us know that at least for the moment, she was willing to go along with our suggestion.

A yawn from Emily broke through the silence that followed, and created a wave of other yawns around the circle. “I think I’ll head to bed.” She announced and stood up. Others slowly stood and voiced their agreement about heading to bed and as goodnights were shared around the fire, I quickly glanced at Steph and my unvoiced question was met with a reassuring smile and kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you upstairs.” She whispered in my ear and walked over to Charlotte while I tried to grab Trev’s attention. The slight nod of his head let me know that he understood and the two of us stayed behind as everyone else walked into the house.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two of us as we stood in front of the fire. There were so many things that I wanted to say to him, but I didn’t know where to start; and as each second ticked by I became more stressed about how long it was taking me to do so.

“Congratulations.” His voice breaking the silence both relieved and confused me. I asked him to stay back because I wanted to apologize for what I’d done, not so he could congratulate me. It only added to my confusion of what he meant, which must have been evident when I looked at him. “About the baby. . .” He clarified and I nodded.

“She only found out yesterday so I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it. . .Thanks.”

He nodded and turned to look past the fire and out towards the water and I followed his gaze before taking a big breath to start.

“Trev. . .”

He interrupted me before I could say anything else. “Don’t worry about it George. I’m not.”

“You should be furious.” I tried to reason with him.

“But I’m not. I’m not mad, or pissed. . .so don’t worry about it.” He really didn’t sound mad, but that’s the way most of our conversations started off. He’d act like everything was okay, I’d prod him a little, things would escalate, and we’d end up blowing up at each other.

“So are we going to do what we normally do, wait until one of us gets pissed and then really say what we feel?”

He sighed and looked at me. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that it hurt? That when you tried to convince me that I didn’t experience what I did, that it hurt?”

“No, it wouldn’t make me feel better, Trev.” I sighed and looked into the flames. “I didn’t want to talk with you to make me feel better. . .” I sighed again and looked up at the sky. So many times we’d tried to talk to each other and almost every time one or both of us misunderstood the other. This was one time though that I was determined to not let that happen, but I didn’t know how.

Every time I thought I knew what to do or say, it turned out to be the opposite of what he wanted or needed to hear and it would cause me to question all of the training that I’d received; like I had that night at the club when he blew up at me. It was the same night that I admitted to Steph that sometimes I felt conflicted about my roles as a brother and son and as a psychologist. Her response had taken me by surprise, especially her attempt to convince me to see myself in a different way. 

“. . .you aren’t a psychologist who’s a brother, you’re a brother who happens to be a psychologist. You’re feelings as a brother should be stronger than your control as a psychologist. If it was the opposite, you wouldn’t be the caring, loving brother that you are.”

I looked back over at Trev and wondered if that was the answer. Maybe I needed to let go of being “Mr. Psychologist,” “Mr. Goody-two-shoes,” the guy who always had to be right; and instead be the guy that could admit that someone else was. I took another deep breath and tried to concentrate on him and what he needed.

“You were right, you know?” He slowly turned his head away from the fire and questioned me by shrugging and raising his eyebrows. “When you said that I’m always shoving it in people’s faces that I’m Mr. Perfect, Mr. Goody-two-shoes? You were right.”

He thought about it for a minute and then realized what I said. “George, I was angry and as drunk as a skunk when I said that.”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s true. I’ve spent the last ten years being the person that listens to everyone, everyone except the people that I should’ve been listening to. I convinced myself that I did; tried to make it look like I did, but I didn’t. I’ve gotten so wrapped up in being who I thought I needed to be, who I thought others needed me to be, that I was completely blind to who I really was.”

He stared at me for a moment, thinking about what I said and then shook his head. “George. . .Sometimes I think you speak in riddles. . .”

“Maybe I do. . .” It would definitely explain why it seemed so hard for people to understand what I said half the time. But I didn’t want this to be one of those times and I concentrated my efforts on trying to better explain what I meant. 

“Take Dad, for instance. I thought you needed someone to keep your impressions of what happened between you and Dad realistic. Because that’s what I did, I tried to rationalize what happened and tried to explain it away. Instead, I should have openly listened to you, even if I didn’t want to admit that it could happen. Because you didn’t need me to judge you or direct you, you needed me to listen to you. . .” I again thought back to my conversation with Steph the night that Trev yelled at me. “You needed me to be your brother.”

He surprised me by nodding instead of arguing which encouraged me to continue. “I’ve gotten so caught up in being “Mr. Psychologist” that I’ve forgotten to be a brother and a son. And God help me, I don’t want to keep doing that to you, Charlotte, Will, Mom, or even Steph and our future children.”

I paused long enough to catch my breath. “You were right about so much more than Dad, Trev. You were right about me, hell, you were right about Steph. I didn’t even know what was in front of me until you and Charlotte made me see.”

I was surprised to see a smirk appear on his lips as he turned to look at me. “You would’ve figured it out eventually.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “And I don’t think you have to worry about repeating past mistakes with Steph and your kids.” I quizzically looked at him. “You’ve always been the type of person who when they see something they want to change about themselves, you do it.”

“You could be speaking about yourself, you know.” He looked away, obviously uncomfortable from my statement and I continued to try to persuade him. “Look at what you’ve changed. . .look at what you’ve accomplished. Watching what you’ve done has inspired me to be a better person.”

His head jerked up and snapped around to look at me. “I inspire you?”

I looked him square in the eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

He looked away for a moment, trying to let what I said sink in, and then surprised me with his response. “You inspire me too.” He completely turned his body to face me.  “When I see how happy you are, with Steph, your job, your growing family. . .when I see how happy all of you are, it makes me believe that I can have that too. Maybe not right now, but maybe in the future.”

I worried for a moment that what he said meant that he wasn’t happy. “Are you happy now?”

“I am.” I let out a small sigh of relief. “I’m doing what I love, I feel more supported than I’ve felt in ten years, and for the first time in a long time I feel like I’m someone that Dad would be proud of.”

A smile spread across my lips as I responded. “He would be proud of you.”

He flashed me a big, genuine smile in return. “He’d be proud of you too, little bro.” We stared at each other for a moment before we each looked away. As we stood there in silence, I wondered if he was as surprised as I was that we’d had a calm conversation.  “Did we actually just talk about our feelings without getting upset?” He asked and I chuckled at the fact that we had the same thoughts.

“Yeah, we did.” I said as we both continued to look out at the water.

“That’s so. . .grown up of us.” He joked and I chuckled as I looked at him.

“We must be mellowing with age.” He grinned again at my joke and another short, but comfortable silence fell between us.

“You know, it’s nice talking to you when. . .” His voice trailed off, as if he was afraid to say what he thought.

“When I’m not being Mr. Psychologist?” I offered and he thought for a moment.

“I was trying to think of a nicer way to say it, but yeah.” He nodded.

“It was nice not being Mr. Psychologist, and just being your brother.” I admitted and then the smirk that I was all too familiar with appeared.

“My little brother.” He teased and I chuckled as I looked down at the ground.

“My whole life, you’re going to remind me of that my whole life, aren’t you.” I smirked up at him and he nodded as he took a step closer.

“You better believe it, little bro.”

He pulled me in for a hug, like the ones we gave each other before everything between us got so tense and uncomfortable. I had missed it more than I let myself admit before but more than that, I had missed having a big brother. He had always looked out for me when we were younger, always been the one I looked up to, but that all changed after Dad passed away. He drifted further and further away after he and Will went to college and I felt like I had to step up and be the big brother, to step into the shoes that I felt he should have as the oldest after Dad died.  

But I was learning that people didn’t need me to be that person, they needed me to be a brother, son, husband, and soon, a father, and Trev’s next words proved that to be true.

“Thanks for being my brother tonight, George.” He whispered as our hug ended and I had to fight to keep the tears in my eyes from escaping as I saw the ones in his.

“Anytime.” I whispered. He smacked my back a couple times and we continued to talk as we set about putting the fire out and headed back inside. We hugged one last time at the top of the stairs and said goodnight before heading to our own rooms, and I was sure I’d open the door to see Steph pacing the floor.

I was barely halfway through the door before her pacing stopped and she rushed over to question me. “What happened?”

I sighed as I thought about all that happened since she left me outside. “I talked, he listened. He talked, I listened. . .” She looked less than satisfied at my response and I attempted to appease her. “I’m exhausted, and I promise to tell you everything tomorrow morning but. . .It’s the first time in I don’t know how long that I’ve talked to one of them and I didn’t feel conflicted about being a psychologist and a brother. I didn’t try to analyze him, or help him. I just. . .listened and reassured him as a brother.”

She smiled wider than I ever could remember seeing and placed her hands on my chest. “The tiger has become wise.”

I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Maybe not wise. . .but has learned.”