Brick by Brick (31 page)

Gage jumped in again. “I love your son, Mrs. Bedwell. He’s a fine person, probably because of you. And I love Natalie. We weren’t looking for this to happen, and it isn’t what any of us would have chosen. It shocks people we care about, and we know some won’t approve.”

“You can say that again,” Daniel said.

“Like you’ve approved of anything I’ve done since we were kids.” James jutted his jaw in his twin brother’s direction. “I don’t give a fuck whether you approve.”

“James Bedwell!”

“Sorry for the language, Mom. But I won’t take back the sentiment. Daniel, you’re my brother. We don’t have to agree on this or anything else, but I would hope that you’d wish me happiness. If you can’t or won’t, it’s you that’s got a problem, not me.”

Daniel fumed and said nothing.

Gage took Mrs. Bedwell’s hands in his. She pulled hers away. He ducked his head, earnest dark eyes locked on her shocked and confused blue ones, trying to understand how her son could be involved with another man. “It’s scary to us too, but I never wish it hadn’t turned out this way. You refuse to love and be loved, you end up empty and bitter. It’s what is, and there’s no point in denying it.”

He leaped up, pacing the six feet in front of the sofa twice, then crouched, eyes leveled first at James’s and Daniel’s mother, then at Daniel, who still glowered. “You don’t have to like me, or approve of what I am to James and Natalie. I just hope you’ll tolerate me and keep on loving James because he’s family, no matter what he does.”

“As if anything could make a mother stop. You’d know if you had children. Your mother knows.”

“No,” he replied, “I don’t think she does. It’s a long story, but I don’t think she’s ever loved anybody like I love your son.”

Mrs. Bedwell patted his hand. “Her loss, then. I’m sure if you’re good enough for James, you’re a good person.”

“I try to be. It’s hard sometimes.”

“I’m sure it is, the business you’re in.”

She’d recognized him?

Daniel seemed puzzled. Clearly he hadn’t.

Mrs. Bedwell smiled. “Can I ask you something? If it isn’t too prying…”

“You can ask me anything,” Gage assured her.

James looked like he’d swallowed wrong.

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” Mrs. Bedwell said. “Is Murphy Morgan really as perky as in the movies?”

Gage laughed. “Yes, ma’am, she really is. That’s the real deal.” Gage’s smile became broad, and he dropped his voice to a confidential hush. “Would you like to meet her?”

Mrs. Bedwell glanced toward the short corridor to the bedroom. “Is she—there are four of you?”

James coughed on iced tea going the wrong direction, so I answered. “No, Mom. Three’s plenty. Daniel, you look like you’re going to have a stroke. Swap your tea for a drink?”

“Yes. Please. I’m trying to wrap my mind around this. Were you always interested in boys?” he asked James.

“No,” Gage and James said in unison. They laughed, and Gage added, “And we’re not interested in boys now, either. That’s disgusting.”

“Right. But I’m supposed to be okay with my brother being in love with a man.” He accepted scotch, neat.

“That’d be the ideal, Dan. If you can’t respect any love except the kind you have, then fu—” James stopped himself. “Then the hell with you.”

“Then the hell with me. Damn it, James, it’s not like when we were kids. Nobody’s winning and losing anymore. Of course I want you to be happy. But this?”

“Makes me happy,” James said.

“For how long, though? How are you going to feel when this comes out? You shouldn’t have told us. You shouldn’t have told anybody. How’s Mom going to feel when your picture’s in the tabloids? What am I supposed to say when it’s in
People
and someone e-mails it to the entire office?”

Gage gave my hand a squeeze. “In the immortal words of the great sage Natalie: It isn’t about you.”

“Fine. Fine! Does he pay rent or his share of utilities?”

“No,” Gage answered, “but I certainly could. You’re right; I should. Stop with the face, James. We’ll work out something fair.”

“Don’t you have any contracts in place? Or is he going to play house until he’s bored with you, then leave your lives in ruins?”

I tried hard to deflect the inquisition. “He’s signed on for the gradual replacement of all our furniture. He replaced the old recliner just today,” I explained.

“He bought a chair. That’s all?”

“He bought a bed too.”

“For himself as much as you. Excuse me for saying this, but he’s using you.”

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” Gage said, “but I do have something in place. When I went to California last summer, I changed my will. Half my estate goes to my sister. The other half goes to them, or if they’re not together, a quarter to each of them. If one’s dead before I die, the survivor gets the whole half.”

Now James scowled, and Gage whirled on him. “I know, okay? You don’t want my money; you don’t need my money. We’ve been through that, even if you don’t remember it. If you won’t spend it on yourself, give it away. I won’t be there to stop you.”

He turned to Daniel, whose arched brows resembled a cartoon character’s. “Money talks, right? That’s how seriously I take this relationship. I ask you to do the same, even if you can’t approve.”

“Great,” I said. “Now when they tick me off, I’m going to have to kill them in the right order.”

It wasn’t that funny, but everyone laughed nevertheless. Daniel’s scowl eased. I poured him a second drink, and Gage and myself a first. “James?”

“No. I think I’m going to want a pill soon.”

“With your face like that, it’s a wonder we could forget for even a moment that you’re hurt,” his mother said, pushing back his hair. “We’ve all gotten distracted. May I have a small one, Natalie?”

When they left, Mrs. Bedwell asked if she should come over when we told James’s other brothers and sister. “It could get ugly.”

“I think I can handle it,” he said, “but thanks for offering.” He took a deep breath and smiled at her. “I love you, Mom.”

I’d never heard him say it before. I doubt she had, either, but Mrs. Bedwell was smooth. “Of course you do, dear. I’ve always known.” Louder, she called, “Daniel, don’t even think about driving my car. You’re not too old to spank.”

Chapter Forty-One

The rest of James’s family came by singly to see James’s fat nose and black eyes, ask after his truck, and check out his boyfriend the movie star. All of them seemed to accept Gage better than Daniel had. I supposed being warned had a lot to do with it.

Weeks of healing passed in a pleasant blur. At first Gage helped James with the things that hurt, like showering and dressing, with good humor even when James was curt or slapped his hands away. “Just hold still,” Gage said, unperturbed. “You don’t grow up the only boy in the family without learning how to dress a doll.”

James’s bruises and aches faded. Once he could manage for himself, Gage dragged him along to the gym, where he’d arranged for massage and whirlpool for James while he worked out.

Manny supervised the bricklayers well enough, although with James’s encouragement and the loan of his cell phone, he called several times a day with questions or to confirm his decisions. My husband had planned extra pay for the extra work but decided to keep Manny as a secondary boss overseeing the crews even after he returned. The bigger paycheck was worth offloading some of the decision making—and affordable now that he had the Rincon contract.

James’s headache wasn’t severe, but it was constant. He didn’t so much as talk about going to job sites, even after his black eyes faded to purple, then green, and finally yellow.

Hurting steadily left him cross, easily frustrated, and later, embarrassed and apologetic. Gage led the way in handling James’s nasty behavior. Anytime my husband spoke sharply to either of us, he’d drop whatever he was doing, not to fix whatever James found fault with but to give him a hug, kiss his hair, or rub his neck. “I know, man, I know. Nothing’s any good when your head’s pounding. Come on, let’s walk around the block.” They walked a lot.

Daniel called asking if he and Hayley could bring our nieces over on a Saturday afternoon to preview their Halloween costumes and to practice saying
trick or treat!

“We won’t stay long,” he promised. “I knew you’d want to see the girls in their costumes, and I thought I’d check in on my little brother.”

I didn’t tell James verbatim; “little brother” would rankle.

I offered beer and soft drinks. Daniel went for the alcohol despite Hayley’s pointed look, but after drinking most of his first Labatt’s, he relaxed.

“So, tell me how this works,” he said to Gage. “Do you live here, or come over a lot, or what?”

“Honey, how is that our business?” Hayley said.

Gage answered anyway. “I have a little place of my own, and I spend some time there pretty much every day. Before James’s accident, I mostly came by in the evenings. I’d help Natalie with dinner, and we’d all have some time together. Lately, I’ve been here a lot more. At first James needed some help, and now I’m the rough-edges smoother.”

“I spend part of every day making demands and complaining, just generally being an asshole,” James explained. “You would too, if you’d had a headache for over two weeks.”

“Poor Daniel, he must have had a headache for years,” Hayley said, and we all laughed, Daniel last but hardest.

Daniel invited us all, including Gage, to Thanksgiving dinner. James and I accepted immediately, but Gage was noncommittal.

I overheard my sister-in-law talking to him in the kitchen, where she poured more juice for the girls, who never remembered to close the door when they ran inside. “Don’t think you’re not welcome. Daniel’s coming around. Really.”

“Welcome where?” Josie asked.

“Our house, for the big Thanksgiving dinner. Remember, we talked about Aunt Lottie and Uncle Olin coming?”

“Oh.” She dashed outside.

Hayley said, “Daniel’s trying. He’s just now realizing he barely knows his twin brother because of all this stupid animosity left over from when they were kids.”

“It’s not Daniel,” Gage said. “It’s that I don’t know what my sister’s doing, and she’s all the family I’ve got. I guess I assumed we’d have Thanksgiving here.”

Guilt stabbed me, a pang I richly deserved. I had no idea what my sister was doing for the holiday. She used to invite James and me but stopped after too many refusals.

“No, it’s our turn. Bring her along. Does she have a family? Husband?”

“Boyfriend.”

“He’s invited too. We do the dinner thing at dinnertime, so if the boyfriend wants to take her to be with his family during the day, it’ll work out. So long as they don’t eat too much.” She flushed. “I’m not much of a cook, but I’ve already got every Bedwell woman promising phone consultation if I need it.”

* * * *

Late Thanksgiving morning, Gage put on a sweater and corduroy slacks, the look so unlike him I couldn’t help my smirk.

“I need James’s family to think I’m all right,” he said. “My regular clothes is disrespecting, and a suit says I think I’m better than everybody. Is this okay? Really?”

“It’s fine.” He did look good, just not like Gage.

I bullied James into a sweater instead of a chamois shirt, although he refused to budge from Levi’s. At least these were new and whole.

Mrs. Bedwell and James’s sister, Jennifer, still in college, were already there, along with James’s aunt and uncle, who were staying with his mother. Daniel poured wine with a generous hand and had beer on ice and football on a huge flat-screen. My husband and Uncle Olin talked shop, with both Gage and Daniel uncomfortably pretending to care about whatever game they watched.

It got better when James’s other brothers, David and Mark, arrived together. David was high, I was pretty sure, and kept himself busy jollying Mark out of the funk he had every year because his ex had their son on Thanksgiving.

Gage still hung back, listening, laughing on cue, contributing almost nothing. Scared? Maybe. James would help him out, if he ever noticed Gage’s shyness.

The women gathered in the kitchen, talking men and housework and life, like an ad for some just-like-home-cooking microwaveable dinner. Although I hadn’t seen her in several years, Aunt Lottie and I were instantly comfortable, as if we’d painted my kitchen last week.

Rowan and Dave came midafternoon. I’d met him but never before seen how personable and funny he was; my unspoken fear that he’d be uncomfortable amid Daniel’s wealth was unfounded. Better still, he sensed both Daniel and Gage were ill at ease and drew them into conversation as if he were the host rather than the outgoing guest.

Hayley served dinner at five, earlier than she’d planned. “I don’t know what else to do. It’s done.” She gestured at a huge turkey. “Lottie says she and Mom can have everything else ready before Daniel’s done carving.”

We ate like pigs, of course. After the pies were sliced and eaten, James tapped his wineglass. “I have an announcement.”

After a few final words of conversation, we listened.

“Most of you know I spent my teens butting heads with Dad. And with Daniel, who I’d like to thank for inviting us all to his home for this wonderful—and early—dinner.” He raised his wineglass in acknowledgment of the laughs. “We’re grown men now, committed to behaving like brothers. Better late than never.”

The family clapped. The tension between them hadn’t spoiled family gatherings, but it had certainly degraded them.

“It’s going to be better than it has been, we promise you. But back then, I wanted nothing to do with him, or Dad either. I left home as soon as I could escape, and Uncle Olin welcomed me. He taught me everything he knew about what would become my livelihood. He let me try on responsibility and make my own mistakes until I’d learned enough, and grown up enough, to come back home, make peace with Dad while there was still time, and start my own business.”

I stole a look around the table. Hayley hushed her older daughter with a finger held to her lips, but everyone else gave my husband their complete attention.

“I thanked Uncle Olin, of course, but I couldn’t repay him for all the time and faith he invested in me. Today, I’m presenting him with a token that can’t cancel the debt—nothing could—but that I hope will remind him every day how much I appreciate everything he did for me when I was a stupid, defiant kid. Uncle Olin, this is for you.”