My Brother's Best Friend (5 page)

I heard his feet running down the hallway into the bathroom. “Christy!” He was on the floor with me before I could even look up at him. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

It was a fair question. The last time he had found me in this bathroom, I had been bleeding to death, literally.

The moment I saw his face, the black hole sucking me inside stopped and the darkness cleared. I threw my arms around him and held on firmly as his strong hold tightened around me.

“What happened, CJ?” he murmured.

I shook my head, unable to even explain it to myself.

“You weren’t…”

I shook my head again. No, I wasn’t trying to hurt myself. Nothing could ever make me contemplate it again. I had been in a dark place then.

Devin’s hand rubbed my back, and I shivered as tingles ran up my spine. I turned my head to face him and couldn’t help but smell the cologne he was wearing, which by the way smelled wonderful, intoxicating. Mmm.

Okay, getting a grip on myself.

“Did Emily do something? Did she say something to upset you?” he asked.

I rather reluctantly pulled away. I still didn’t understand what was wrong with me. How could I have wanted—still want—Devin to hold me like he was doing? It was ridiculous.

By this time, Devin’s hands were touching my cheeks, trying to pinpoint exactly what was wrong with me.

“It wasn’t Em. She just left probably ten minutes ago.”

“Five actually, I’ve been waiting several houses down in my car.” Devin gave me a quick smile, but I could tell he was still worried. “What happened, CJ?”

“I’m fine, I just had a little panic attack.” At least that’s what I thought it was. I can’t really explain what it was. “Emily left and I was looking around the house. It was so empty and well, it was like I was back there. I was alone again, and the darkness was encompassing me. I couldn’t get out,” I whispered.

His arms went around me again. “You’ll never be alone, CJ. You have Mitch, Megan and Emily. You have me.”

“Thank you, Dev. You’re always saving me.”

“Should we call Dr. Stone?” he asked with worry still in his voice.

I smiled weakly. “No. I’m fine, really. Don’t call him over nothing. Come on, we can put your stuff in the guest room upstairs.”

“Chris, this wasn’t ‘nothing.’ I really think we should call him.”

“Devin, I’m fine. Don’t even dream of calling Dr. Stone.” His suitcase was resting by the door and I picked it up and pulled it toward the stairs.

“I’ll get it,” Devin said, pulling the suitcase out of my hand.

“I’m not incapable of carrying your suitcase,” I said, walking up the stairs in front of him.

“I know you’re not, but a gentleman always helps a lady.”

“But I was helping you, you dolt.”

“Whatever, it still applies to this situation,” he said as we walked down the hallway toward the guest room. He put his things down and turned to look at me. “Are you sure you’re all right? I really think we should call Doctor Stone.”

“No. We don’t need to call him. If anything, I’ll talk to him next week. I’m fine. Let’s just drop it, okay? Forget about it. I’m not some fragile glass figurine that will break if you say or do the wrong thing. I don’t need Doctor Stone to glue me back together. I’m not broken.”
But what if I am broken? What if I truly have been shattered into a million pieces and I really do need help piecing myself back together?

Note to Self: Ask Doctor Stone about this.

“Fine, you win. I’ll forget about it,” Devin said, setting his suitcase down.

“Hey, Dev?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” I asked.

“Sure, shoot.”

“Dr. Stone wants me to ask Mitchell or you about something. But I don’t think I could ask Mitch. You know what happened. You know everything that’s happened. But if you laugh, I will never forgive you.”

“CJ, I won’t laugh. You can ask me anything and you know you will always get an honest answer.” He sat down on the bed and motioned for me to join him.

“Well, we were talking in session today about my parents, and Dr. Stone said something that bothered me. I don’t think you can know something about a person who’s not here anymore. What I’m trying to say is, Dr. Stone said my parents would be proud of me. Of what I’ve become, how we all turned out. But how can he say it, when he couldn’t possibly know?”

“Chris,” Devin sighed. “He’s right. Your parents would have been so proud of you.”

“I didn’t go to Yale, like I was supposed to. I haven’t even graduated college yet! My sister hates me, and I still feel like half a person. How could anyone be proud of that?”

Devin reached out and grabbed my hand. “Christy, you’ve managed to keep this family together by sacrificing something you really wanted. You don’t think your parents would be proud of that? Do you remember when you were in ninth grade and you had that performance of Robin Hood?”

“Yeah, you gave me flowers at the dress rehearsal instead of the actual performance.”

Devin chuckled. “Yeah, and then you gave your flowers to Emily later at her elementary orchestra play. She was the only one who didn’t get flowers, so you gave her yours, saying they were from all of us. Do you remember that?”

I nodded.

“Do you remember what your mom whispered to you?”

I nodded again, tears coming to my eyes. “She said she was proud of me.”

“And she would be proud of you now. So don’t think just because you didn’t go to Yale and you’re not graduating yet they wouldn’t be proud. Because of what you gave up, you were able to keep your family together. Chris, they would be proud and happy to see the sacrifices you’ve made, even more to see how selfless you are. They would be so proud. I mean, I’m proud of you, Mitch is proud of you, so you can bet your parents would be proud too. And even if it doesn’t look like it, deep down, Emily is grateful for everything you’ve done.”

I looked up at Devin and hugged him tightly. “Thanks, Dev.” It was all I could say. But he knew I was grateful to him. I pulled away then wiped the tears from my eyes and stood up. “We still have leftover pizza in the fridge, if that’s okay for dinner?”

“Sure, CJ. You want to finish watching Season 5 later?” he asked.

“Sounds good. Get unpacked and then we can head downstairs,” I said, walking to the door. “One more thing, would you really give me an honest answer to any question I ask you?”

Devin laughed and stood up. “Yeah, Chris, any question.”

I
woke up in my room the next morning, which was weird, because I completely remembered falling asleep on the couch last night after we started watching
Lost
. We had eaten dinner and were almost done with Season 5. I was determined to finish it, but my eyes started getting heavy and I know I fell asleep. Yet somehow I woke up in my room nicely snuggled in my covers.

When I asked Devin about it, he just shrugged his shoulders and pushed a plate of pancakes at me. “Eat up, Sherlock.” he said. “You’re coming to work with me today.”

“But today is Sunday!” I complained, stacking two pancakes on my plate. “Sunday was made so people could laze around all day and do nothing but watch TV and eat.”

“So you’d rather sit around the house by yourself being a lazy pig than come to the studio with me and see what I do?”

I stiffened my back and looked up at him and smiled sweetly. “I would rather be a lonely lazy pig than go with you to your stinky cramped studio office.”

Devin smiled that smile, the same smile that made all the women around him swoon, then picked up his silverware. “Too bad, you’re coming, whether you want to or not.”

I wanted to throw the plate of pancakes at his face and it must have shown because Devin pulled the plate of pancakes toward him, out of my reach.

I glared at him then huffed, “Fine.”

Embarrassed heat raced through me, because I knew he wanted me to come with him, not because he enjoyed my company, but because he was afraid to leave me alone after what happened last night. I wished I could tell him to go to hell, but I was actually still a little freaked out myself and didn’t want to be alone.

He didn’t say anything after that and neither did I until we had both finished.

“I’ll clean up while you get ready,” he said, looking me over. I didn’t think I looked that bad. I was wearing the same pajama pants I had on from last night and my hair in a ponytail. I mean, sure I wouldn’t normally go out in this ensemble, but he didn’t have to assume it. In hindsight, I really wished I had gone upstairs to change and maybe put on some makeup, but no, I remained where I stood.

“I’m ready to go. I just have to grab my bag.”

Devin looked like he was trying hard to keep from smiling. He cleared his throat. “You are really ready to go?”

I looked down at the bright yellow ducks on my aquamarine flannel pants and matching solid blue tank top and nodded. “Yep.”

He was struggling to keep a straight face. “Fine, I’ll just put these in the sink then and clean them when we get back. I’ll wait in the car.”

I stubbornly marched up the stairs to my room, grabbed my satchel bag, and slipped on my black flip-flops then hurried downstairs and out the door.

“You really didn’t change?” he asked when I climbed in the front seat of his Audi R8

“Nope.” I smiled, and he shook his head.

“You can be so stubborn sometimes, CJ.”

“And you can be so rude and overbearing. We go so perfectly together,” I said sarcastically. “So why exactly are you going into work on a Sunday?”

“The director didn’t like one of the songs the cast sang for next week’s episode so he had everyone come in to re-record and re-shoot it.”

I nodded my head as if I knew what he was talking about. About the only thing I really knew was that Devin does work with mixing sound in a studio.

“What are you smiling about?” I asked when I noticed the smirk on his face.

“Nothing, it’s just you have no idea what’s about to happen, do you?” He chuckled to himself at his own private joke.

I smacked his arm. “Your evil laughter is starting to scare me. What’s about to happen?”

“Nothing to worry about now.” He smirked, and I knew I needed to start to worry.

I went back over everything he had said and gasped as I suddenly realized. “There will be people there!” I nearly shouted, startling Devin into pushing the brakes. “Why didn’t you tell me people would be there? The cast, no less! Oh my god, you have to turn this car around and go back. I have to change!”

He was openly laughing now, and I smacked him hard. He merely rubbed his arm and continued laughing. “I told you I’d wait for you to get ready.”

“No, you said you’d clean the dishes while I got ready.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You didn’t just say it, you looked me over like I was hideous and to prove to you I wasn’t worried about my appearance, like you were, I didn’t change,” I said, sticking my chin out a little, pretending I really didn’t care that I was about to meet a cast full of really amazing and famous singers.

Devin looked over at me briefly. “I didn’t mean to give you that impression.”

“What impression were you trying to give me? I mean seriously, Dev, you were looking me over like I wasn’t good enough.”

“You are definitely good enough just as you are, CJ. I never meant to give you the impression that you weren’t. And you obviously haven’t had many men look at you the way I was looking at you if your reaction is to think I was criticizing your appearance.”

I couldn’t say anything I was so shocked. Was he really admitting he thought I looked attractive? I must have looked skeptical because his next statement confirmed my question.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. God, Christy, you don’t even need makeup to look good, you could wear a potato sack and still make heads turn. You’re wearing pajamas, for Christ’s sake!” He cleared his throat and I felt like I needed to clear mine.

“Thanks. I guess,” I managed to say.

Devin just chuckled and for some reason it made me angry. I mean, sure he told me I looked good, but for what, so he could see my embarrassment? But before I could ask him any questions about what he was really trying to do, he pulled up to the gate of the studio. He flashed his work badge at the small box situated next to an empty guard shack and slowly the gates began to open.

“Looks like everyone’s already here,” Devin said as he pulled into a parking space close to the building he worked in. There were several cars in the lot already I noted as we walked toward the large building in front of us. He flashed his badge again at the black box next to the door and it unlocked. “You remember where it is, right?”

I had been here only once before, but I still remembered. We passed the empty reception desk and walked toward the elevators. As the elevator doors opened, Devin’s cell phone chirped in his pocket. He pulled it out and quickly answered.

“Who was that?” I asked, because honestly, I wanted to know but more importantly, I wanted to breech the awkwardness between the two of us that had begun in the car.

“Robert. They’re waiting for me in the studio.” Robert was the music producer, who not only worked with the actors and the series music department but also with the series sound department.