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Chapter Twenty-One: Whatever's Bugging You


That night, I had issues sitting still. I felt like my entire body was on vibration. I looked around the table as we ate dinner - macaroni and cheese for Bradley and homemade eggplant parm for the rest of us - my mind reeling over the things that I had planned for later. Everytime my eyes met Becky's over the table I imagined she could read my thoughts and I'd look away quickly. I barely heard the dinner conversation, I felt like my mind was on a completely separate planet from the others and I spent most of the night nodding blankly.

It was after we'd finished and Bruce was in the living room watching a ball game and Bradley had gone upstairs after Becky told him to take a shower, and Becky and I were in the kitchen. I was absently wiping dishes and putting them into their old dishwasher. Becky came up behind me and put a pan into the soapy water. She studied me a moment. "Nate, are you okay? You've barely spoken all night."

"I'm okay," I answered. I put the dish into the washer.

Becky studied me a moment. "You know you can talk to me about whatever's bugging you," she said. "Or you don't have to if you don't want to. I just want you to know I'm here for you if you need me to be."

I took her hand in mine and pulled her close. I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes as she strung her arms around my waist. She leaned against me and she felt so warm and comfortable and nice. I smelled her hair and relished the fact that she was there, against me, feeling wonderful and comfortable and warm.

I knew right then that I couldn't follow through with using her for the bet with Chris. I also knew that I couldn't beat Chris. I couldn't be with anyone else. I didn't even want to be with anyone else. The bet suddenly seemed so impossibly immature. I was gonna have to talk to Chris the next day. And now, tonight, I needed to talk to Becky.

"Actually," I said, "I do need to talk to you."

"Okay." She looked up. "What's wrong?"

"Well Becky, when I met you on WOW, I had just started this ---"

"BECKY BECKY BECKY BECKY!" Bradley came bounding into the room. There was soap in his hair and he wore only a pair of neon green swim trunks. He held a towel in his fist. "There's a spider in th-the the shower!"

Becky pulled back from me. "Hold that thought, Nate. I'll be right back." Becky kissed my chin and ducked off to save Bradley from the spider.

"He better not be trailing water all through the house!" Bruce shouted from the living room. "Over a god-damn spider!"

"He's afraid of them, dad, he can't help it," Becky called back, her voice fading as she climbed the stairs.

"He's thirty-one years old," muttered Bruce, and I heard the TV channels flicker out in the living room.

I turned back to the dishes. The soap bubbles from the dish soap I'd been using were all but evaporated. I added some more and ran the hot water and went back to rinsing the dishes and putting them into the dish washer. Becky was gone almost an hour before she came back downstairs. I'd finished cleaning the kitchen up and had joined Bruce in the living room by the time she returned.

"I'm sorry," she said, "He didn't want to get back in the shower and he still had soap in his hair and I had to get it out and I got it in his eyes and he freaked out and then I had to get him to bed and he wanted a story and --"

"It's okay," I said, "I finished the kitchen for you."

Bruce was staring at the TV, a look of regret on his eyes. His lips were pursed.

Becky looked relieved. "Can we go back to your place now?" she asked me, her eyes pleading.

I nodded, "Sure." I stood up and Becky grabbed her purse.

"Be back before nine," Bruce instructed, "You know how he freaks out if I cut the fruit for him."

"I know. I already cut it. It's in a bowl in the fridge," Becky replied. "I work in the morning, Dad."

Bruce sighed.

"Night Daddy," she said and she bent down to kiss his forehead.

"Good night Princess," he said. Bruce looked at me. "Night Bill."

"Night sir," I answered.

We walked in silence across the yard to my car and we climbed in. Becky closed her door as I was going around to mine and as I swung into the seat, I realized that Becky had leaned forward, covered her eyes, and was sobbing into the palms of her hands.

"Becky," I said gently and I reached over to touch her shoulder.

"It's not fair," she sobbed.

"What's not fair, honey?" I asked.

She looked up, "It's not fair that he's my brother and I have to take care of him like he's my son. It's not fair that he doesn't have a brain that works right. It's not fair that my father sits there and watches TV and I do all the work. It's not fair that I don't get to have a life that doesn't revolve around taking care of everybody else." Her face was crumpled and her breaths came out shaking and her voice was weak. "Please... just... take me away from here, Nate." She looked into my eyes.

I nodded, and turned the key in the ignition.