Color of Loneliness (39 page)

“Hi.”

Dylan clears his throat. “I know this probably sounds damn stupid since I just saw you last night but… I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Dylan releases a breath and lies back on the bed, a big grin on his face. “Good. I thought you’d think I was stupid.”

“I’d never think you were stupid.”

He closes his eyes, resting his arm against his forehead. “I really wish I was there with you.”

“Me too.”

Dylan sighs. “What’ve you been doing?”

“Not much. Just boxing up some more of Grampie’s things.”

“Hm.”

“Are you in Boise?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your family?”

“Good. My mom and Chad are here right now…” He sits up, hearing footsteps on the stairs. “Speaking of which, it sounds like someone’s getting ready to interrupt us. Can I call you back?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll call soon.”

“Okay.”

Dylan sits up and shuts his phone just as Chad steps into the doorway.

“Who the fuck were you talking to?” he demands.

“Someone about a job,” Dylan mumbles. He stares at Chad, his eyes narrowing. “It’s none of your fucking business anyway.”

Chad chuckles as he drops on the bed next to him. “Listen, dude, I’ve got the Xbox all set up in the basement, and Ma doesn’t know it, but I snuck us some beer and chips down there too. Nat and the boys will be here before we fucking know it. It’s time for us to kick some fucking zombie asses. You ready, bro?”

Dylan’s heart clenches as he stares at his older brother’s eager face. Chad has always tried to get Dylan to do ‘normal’ shit like they used to before everything happened. But Dylan always rejected his efforts, knowing that he doesn’t deserve to have fun. He still doesn’t deserve it. But Chad deserves something for his efforts.

Taking in a deep breath, Dylan stands and drops his coat on the bed. “Let’s kick some ass,” he says.

Chad’s jaw drops open. “No shit?”

“You gonna sit there all damn day?”

“This is fucking awesome, bro. Let’s do this,” he shouts before he jumps up and pulls Dylan into a bear hug.

* * *

Myra sits down at the kitchen table and takes a bite of salad just as her cell rings. Her heart starts beating faster as she lunges for it. She reads the caller ID and her shoulders sag.

“Hey,” she answers in a gloomy voice.

“Well, geez. Don’t get too excited, now. It’s only your virtual best bud,” Susie says.

“Sorry. I thought you were going to be Dylan. He called me earlier and said he’d call back.”

“Oooh. I’m thinking some
boner over the phoner
with the scruffy sex god could be seriously hot. I bet he wouldn’t mind showing you how to use some of those o-producing items I bought you. I know that gift basket’s just sitting there, collecting dust. I have a feeling he could give you some
explicit
instructions on how to use them.”

“I’m not having phone sex with Dylan. Now stop.”

“All right, all right. I’m just pissed that I spent good money on that shit. I could’ve saved that money and bought me a couple of cheeseburgers or some pie or something.”

Myra snickers. “I don’t think so. You’re on a diet.”

“You suck. Hey, I have to tell you, I’m really pissed at Lori.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a damn saint, and I have a bit of Satan dwelling in me. Do you know what she came up with to get back at Trent?”

“What?”

“She suggested that we put a whoopee cushion in his chair.”

Myra laughs loudly.

“Exactly. That’s something an infant in the womb would do. I need to come up with something totally diabolical.”

“Well, just remember I don’t want to have to come to Philly and bail your butt out of jail because I know Jeff would just let you rot in there,” Myra says with a giggle.

“You got that right. Well, I better get going. I’ve got a boring ass meeting I’ve got to go to. I’m either going to nap during it and pray that I don’t start snoring like a buzz saw, or I’m going to sit and daydream about that tool man of yours using a buzz saw in nothing but his birthday suit and that sexy ass tool belt of his.”

“I don’t appreciate you fantasizing about my, uh, I mean about Dylan like that.”

Susie giggles. “Mmhm. I heard that. I’ll call later. Bye, hon.”

“Bye,” Myra says, slamming her phone shut. She can’t help the small smile that creeps up on her lips.

* * *

“Kiss your ugly motherfucking zombie assholes goodbye,” Chad shouts at the TV screen as his shotgun blasts and blood splats everywhere. “Take that, you ugly motherfucker,” he yells before he grabs a giant handful of chips and shoves them into his mouth. As he crunches, small pieces fall from his mouth onto his T-shirt. He quickly wipes his hands on his jeans before he starts hitting the fire button on his controller again.

Dylan’s head turns towards the doorway when he hears the sound of children’s feet on the basement stairs.

“Shit,” Chad mutters under his breath. “Fun’s over.” He grabs his beer and tucks it beside the couch under the end table. He jumps up and starts hiding the junk food and empty beer cans sitting on the coffee table.

“Hi, Uncle Dylan,” Jay says as he plops on the couch next to him. Dylan smiles and leans over, giving him a hug. He feels a dull ache in his chest when he remembers Myra’s wish that someone would call her ‘Auntie Myra’.

Jay looks at the TV screen. “Mom won’t let us play that. She says it’s too violent and has bad words in it. She doesn’t like dad playing it either.”

Dylan smiles. “Well, don’t tell on your dad, okay? He gets into enough trouble as it is. You listen to your mom, though. She’s smart.”

“You wanna play Star Wars?” Jackson asks Jay as he picks up Chad’s controller off of the coffee table.

Jay nods as Dylan hands him his controller.

“I wanna play,” Joseph says as he runs across the room and sits in the recliner.

The pain in Dylan’s chest intensifies as he stares at his youngest nephew. “Hey, Joseph,” he says quietly.

Joseph says nothing. He simply lifts his hand, not smiling. Dylan gives him a half-grin and a small wave back. It fucking hurts like hell that Joseph doesn’t even know him. He hates that he’s not been a part of his life. That he’s distanced himself so much from everyone.

“
Dad
, we wanna play Star Wars,” Jackson says in a whiny voice.

“Just hold your horses. I gotta clean up my mess here before your mom sees it,” Chad says.

Dylan stands and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m gonna go upstairs and talk to Nat, all right?”

Chad nods at him as he continues cleaning.

Stepping into the kitchen, Dylan finds Natalie leaning up against the center island talking to Sherri, one hand resting lightly on her stomach.

“Hey,” he says with a small smile on his face.

“Oh my God,” Natalie says with a gasp. “You shaved. I haven’t seen you shaved since…” Her voice trails off, a frown crossing her beautiful face. She clears her throat. “Um, wow, you look fantastic.”

“So do you. How’re you feeling?” he asks as he nods towards her stomach.

“Good. Just tired. Working nights is killing me.”

“I told her she should just quit that job,” Sherri says.

Natalie snorts. “You know we need the money. I have all of those student loans to pay off. Besides, I love being a nurse. I just can’t give it up.”

Dylan looks at Natalie. “I’m gonna go grab a quick smoke.”

“Those nasty things are going to kill you some day,” she says.

“And give you wrinkles on your handsome face and make your teeth turn brown and fall out,” Sherri adds.

“I know,” Dylan agrees with a smirk as he opens the sliding glass door to the deck. He sits down in a chair and lights up, taking a quick drag before pulling his phone out and dialing Myra.

“Hi,” she answers in her sweet voice.

“Hey. Whatcha doing?” The beers he chugged earlier with Chad have loosened him up a bit.

“Not much. I was going to do some laundry, but… never mind. You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s embarrassing.”

“Come on, tell me.”

She sighs. “Okay. I, I’m scared of my basement.”

Dylan chuckles. “That place is pretty fucking scary.” He lowers his voice. “But ya know what?”

“What?”

“If I was there, I’d keep you safe. I’d protect you from all that scary shit down there.”

Myra giggles softly. “You would?”

“Yeah. I could also distract you. Take your mind off of everything.”

“Really? How?”

“Well, I’d do a lot more of what we did down there yesterday morning,” he says in a low voice as a situation grows in his pants.

“You’d help me light my pilot light again?” Myra asks before giggling.

“Oh, I’d light your pilot light, all right,” he practically growls just as the screen door slides open and Chad steps out onto the deck.

“Fuck. I gotta go. I’ll call you back, okay?” he whispers.

“Okay. Bye.”

He quickly shuts his phone and shifts in his chair. He takes a drag on his cigarette, ignoring Chad.

“All right, fucker. I know that wasn’t a damn business call. Who the hell was that?”

“None of your damn business.”

Chad chuckles as Dylan stares down at his cigarette. “When’s Nick getting here?”

“In the morning.”

Dylan nods and blows smoke from the corner of his mouth.

“I got my fucking eyes on you, bro,” Chad says as he holds up two fingers to his eyes and swings them back and forth between him and Dylan. “You can’t keep shit from me so don’t you even fucking try.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Chad laughs loudly. “Ma sent me out here to tell you to get your ass inside because dad’s home.”

Dylan nods. “I’ll be in there in a sec.” Chad goes back inside of the house as Dylan stares out into the wooded lot of his parents’ back yard, thinking, as he finishes his smoke.

* * *

Myra puts the last of the brownies she made on a plate and covers it with plastic wrap. She grabs her coat and the brownies and heads to Jackie’s house.

“What’d you make?” Jackie asks as she peeps at the plate. “Brownies? Oh my God, that’s just awesome. I love brownies. I’ve got everything ready. I made spaghetti. I told you I’m a terrible cook, but I’m trying. I thought about making some kind of chicken dish, but I couldn’t decide what sounded good. There are so many different kinds to make: lemon chicken, chicken divan, garlic chicken. I was on this website trying to find a recipe and got really overwhelmed. Just throw your coat on the couch and come into the kitchen,” she says as she grabs the plate of brownies from Myra’s hands.

Myra drops her coat and follows her. “Do you need any help with anything?” she asks.

“Oh, no. The spaghetti’s done. I cooked it exactly how the package said. I didn’t know how to make sauce from scratch so I cheated and used bottled. Then I bought one of those pre-made Caesar salad kits at the store so we should be good.”

Myra looks curiously at the counter. There are three large bowls sitting there. One has the sauce in it. Myra’s eyebrows scrunch together and her mouth drops open when she sees little tiny “o’s” floating in it.

The next bowl has drained spaghetti sitting in it with no sauce on it. The noodles are all stuck together in big clumps and the ends are dried out.

The last bowl has the lettuce, croutons and cheese in it from the package with the entire Caesar dressing packet squirted in a puddle sitting right in the middle of the salad, not mixed up at all.

“Um, Jackie? You can’t leave spaghetti just sitting in a bowl like that. You have to put sauce or some oil on it because if you don’t, it just dries out and sticks together.”

Jackie looks over Myra’s shoulder. “Really?” she moans. “Why doesn’t it say that on the box? There was nothing on the instructions that said that. They should warn you about things like that. I mean how was I supposed to know? I fixed it exactly how it said.”

“Well, it’s just something you pick up when you start learning to cook.” Myra has to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

She picks up a spoon and dips it into the sauce. “What’d you put in this sauce?” she asks as she frowns down at it.

“Oh, I used a bottle of spaghetti sauce with vegetables because I couldn’t find any with meatballs in it and I wanted meatballs so I bought a can of SpaghettiO’s with meatballs and added that. It was the only thing I could find that had meatballs.”

Myra holds back the urge to gag. “Well, I don’t think those two are going to go very well together.” She doesn’t want to hurt Jackie’s feelings because she can see how much effort she put into their dinner and she obviously had the best of intentions.