Nick turned on the kitchen light and jumped in surprise. Brian was sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of amber in front of him. It was four o'clock in the morning, Nick hadn't expected him. Nick grabbed a glass from the cupboard, turned on the faucet and filled it with water before sitting down. He stared at Brian.
He wasn't entirely sure how it was that he had ended up being the one staying. Kevin had finally flown back out to Los Angeles, and Nick had stayed behind. He'd supposed to have gone with Kevin, but Baylee had attached himself to Nick's leg and begged him not to go and Brian hadn't exactly looked stable.
He didn't look much more stable now, weeks later.
Nick pointed at the glass, "That's bad for your heart."
Brian looked at the glass, then up at Nick, "So?"
"So Baylee lost one parent, he doesn't need to lose you both."
Brian rolled the glass with his wrist and took a sip. He looked at Nick, "He'd be fine."
Nick reached across and took the glass and drank the rest of the liquid in one mouthful and put the glass on the counter. He stared at Brian skeptically. "He wouldn't be fine actually."
Brian glared at the empty glass.
"Dude, since when am I the adult between us?" Nick questioned, "Everything's so --"
"Fucked up?" Brian interrupted, "Yeah. It is pretty fucked up, isn't it? Try being the one who has the big gaping hole in his life. Try being the one that actually lost something here." His words shot from his mouth. He shook his head and looked away.
Nick drank his water.
After a long silence Brian whispered, "I'm sorry."
Nick looked up at him, "It's all good."
Brian's eyes were filled with tears. He'd never cried so damn much in his life, he thought. He felt like he'd been demasculated, that he was some kind of tear factory or something. He ran his hands over his eyes. He stared at the sink. He could almost see her, standing there, washing the dishes before she put them in the dish washer.
"Why do you bother running the dishwasher, you already cleaned them..." They'd had the argument countless times, it seemed. Leighanne always smiled and answered the same way, "I'm only rinsing them." But in Brian's opinion, she'd been using soap, clearly that indicated washed.
"I need to move," he whispered.
"Move?" Nick asked.
"This place is haunted," Brian whispered.
"I'm going home to Kentucky," Brian announced.
Nick looked up from the guitar he was strumming, sitting on Brian's couch. Brian sat down on the coffee table across from him. "You are?" Nick asked. He sat upright. "What about Baylee?"
"He's coming with me," Brian said in a duh tone.
"No I mean, did you talk to him about it?" Nick asked.
Brian looked at Nick like he was nuts. "It's not really his decision," he said.
"No but he should be included."
Brian shrugged, "He'll like Kentucky. I grew up there, I should know. It's a great place to grow up."
"But this house is all he's ever known," Nick answered, his brows pinched together in concern.
"Nick, relax," Brian said, "I know you've been taking care of Baylee since --" he stopped. He looked around the room. He thought for sure he could smell her perfume. He closed his eyes. "Nick, this place is - it's haunted, I told you that. I need to get out of here, I need to escape. I can't heal until I escape."
"Okay so what's your plan?"
"There's a house I know," he said, "And my mum said it's for sale." He paused. "I called the realtor. I'm going to buy it. I'm going to pack up all this crap into a U-Haul and I'm going to drive to Lexington and I'm going to live there."
Nick stared at him. "That's a long way for Baylee to ride. In a U-Haul. You should have movers do it and fly with Bay."
Brian stared at Nick. "I want you to fly with Baylee." He took a deep breath, "I want to make the drive alone."
Nick raised his eyebrow. "Brian..."
"Nick," Brian whispered, "I need to do this."
"What is this a box of? Bricks?" Nick dropped the box he'd been struggling across the lawn with onto the floor of the U-Haul. He glowered at Brian, who had just lightly dropped two similarly sized boxes next to it.
"Might as well be," Brian responded coldly.
He walked away and Nick, unable to resist, opened the box and found it packed tightly with Bibles. He sighed, then turned and ran to catch up with Brian. "You didn't go to church today," he said, "That's not like you."
"I'm busy," Brian waved his hand at the U-Haul. The two boys stepped into the house again and took another couple boxes each.
"You didn't go last week, either, or the one before," Nick stated. He added a third box to his pile, just to make a point that the Bible box had been an issue only because it'd been like nine thousand pounds of God. He carried the teetering pile out the door behind Brian.
"Maybe I just don't feel like going," Brian said hotly.
"Why?" Nick asked. He didn't really know why he cared, it wasn't like he was a church boy. But somehow Brian without church was just... wrong. He dropped the three boxes in the U-Haul and looked at Brian. Bri started to walk away again, but Nick caught him by the shoulders. "Look, I dunno a whole lot about the whole... yanno, the whole Jesus thing you're into but..." he paused. "Isn't this when you need that type stuff the most?"
Brian stared at Nick. "I've sat in the same pew since the day we moved to Marietta," he said quietly. He glanced at the house and set his jaw, his adam's apple bobbling ferociously. When his eyes reconnected with Nick's he said, "I woke up that first Sunday on time and I got dressed and I brushed my teeth and combed my hair and got my Bible out and --" he shook his head, "And I couldn't picture being there in the pew without her next to me."
"Well that's understandable."
"It was hell sitting there during the funeral." He looked down at his feet. "Worse than hell." He moved toward the house again. "Which is why I have to move." Following after Brian, Nick sighed in a way that Brian interpreted as his disapproval. "I can't stay here, Nick, this place is haunted. I can't even eat breakfast without feeling like my heart is being twisted like a wet rag."
"I'm just thinking that you'll miss the familiarity," Nick said.
"It's not like I'm unfamiliar with Lexington," Brian said.
"But Baylee's got friends here," Nick argued.
Brian shrugged, "He'll make new friends."
Nick sighed. "I know."
Brian hoisted an end table up. "It's not going to be any different for you," he said, "Just a different phone number, and instead of flying to Atlanta, you'll fly to Kentucky." Brian disappeared out the door.
Nick sighed.
Brian got up from the grass and looked down at the place where he'd just been laying. His body had left an impression on the ground, bent the grass around his shape. He touched his hand to the heart-shaped stone and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He prayed that the shape of him, embossed upon the grass as it was, would be enough to keep her company. And then he whispered a goodbye, and walked back to the U-Haul.
Bob Dylan played from the anchient speaker system. Brian clung to the wheel as the city gave way to the country gave way to the highway, to the trees and grass, to the passing of other cities. Further and further north. He took his time. Made stops. Frequently stopped at rest stops just to remind himself to breathe, in fact.
Finally, the road began to lose their unfamiliarity, began to become roads he'd seen, roads he'd traveled. The landmarks became signs of something Brian hadn't felt in weeks. Home..
And as he pulled into the driveway of the house he'd bought, the U-Haul rumbling up the dirt driveway, dragging behind it the red pick up truck Brian had traded in the Humer for, he looked at the house in front of him and didn't see a ghost on the front porch, didn't see a ghost in the windows, or on the lawn. He breathed a sigh of relief.
