Page 55 of The Bargain

The park was a tiny one, but it appeared well used. There were two sets of swings, a couple of seesaws, and a jungle gym for climbing. Scattered under a thick canopy of maple trees were half a dozen wooden picnic tables. Birds trilled from among the dark leaves and cicadas buzzed low from their hiding spots. The sounds of the nearby traffic were hushed on this lazy Sunday afternoon, and the park was nearly empty as most people preferred to be inside in the air conditioning than out in the heat. I could almost pretend that we were alone in our own little world.

I walked with Byron as we left the car, and I was content to follow him as many times around the park as he needed to walk. He surprised me, though, almost immediately darting into the shade.

“I must be getting too soft. This heat is unbearable,” Byron said. “Do you mind if we just sit?”

“Nope. Sitting works for me.”

He flashed a weak, somewhat shy smile as he selected a picnic table and sat on the top. I climbed up with one step and dropped beside him onto the table. My eyes skimmed over the hundreds of names and random doodles carved into the old wood, a dizzying mix of offensive and loving. I’d never carvedmy initials into wood with anyone, but something childish in me wanted to do it now with Byron’s initials.

“She wasn’t always like that,” Byron stated, breaking the comfortable silence that had stretched between us. “When I was little and Dad was still alive, she worked off and on. Minimum-wage stuff, but the jobs didn’t seem to last more than a year or two. She complained a lot about her back. I think maybe she was in a car accident or something, but it must have been before I was born because I don’t remember it. Things didn’t heal correctly. Nobody ever talked about it. She drank then too, but not to the excessive level that it is now. That all began after Ronnie’s accident. Everything changed that day.”

“How old was he?”

“Seventeen. It was his senior year of high school. I was fourteen. He spent nearly six months in a coma, and another year in rehab learning how to walk and talk again. But when he came home, he wasn’t the same. There were a lot of doctor appointments and trying to keep track of lots of meds. More rehab.”

“He was living at home?”

Byron nodded. “Yeah. My mom quit working completely to stay home with him and take care of him. It was like caring for a toddler with the strength of a full-grown man. It was…hard on her. Dad and I pitched in after work and school. I got odd jobs in the summer to help pay all the medical bills. That was how we managed for eleven years. But Dad died.”

I reached over and took one of Byron’s hands in mine, massaging his palm and fingers, trying to soothe away the tension that was tightening his frame. “Were you close to your dad?”

Byron tipped his head up and let out a long, slow breath that sounded as if it had been released from the depths of his soul as he stared at the leaves. “Not really. You have to understand,Ronnie was their golden child. He was the quarterback for the high school football team and the star pitcher for the baseball team. His grades were decent, but not great. Yet none of it mattered, because everyone who met him just loved him. There wasn’t a person who didn’t love hanging out with my brother.”

“The life of the party,” I murmured, my heart breaking as I tried to imagine the younger brother left in his shadow.

“Definitely. I loved him too. He didn’t enjoy spending too much time with his dorky little brother, but he wasn’t mean to me. After the accident, old friends came around for a while and they tried, but it was hard and painful for everyone. It was like talking to a stranger who was wearing the body of someone you’d adored for a decade. It was almost a blessing that he didn’t remember most of his friends from high school. That made it easier for them to stop coming by.”

Byron grunted and shoved his right hand through his sweaty hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “But the short of it was that Ronnie was the crown prince, and I was the spare. They didn’t pay a lot of attention to me prior to Ronnie’s accident and after, they didn’t have much energy to spare for me.”

My heart broke for that kid forced to grow up years too soon, missing out on so many important moments in life because fate had darker plans for his family. I lifted his left hand to my lips and pressed a series of small kisses to his knuckles. When I was finished, I glanced over to find a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he watched me.

“After Dad died, I had to put Ronnie in a facility so he could get the constant care he needed. Mom’s drinking picked up after Ronnie’s accident and it spun out of control with Dad’s death. She couldn’t take care of herself any longer. There was no way she could manage Ronnie on her own, especially since I was working a full-time job in Cincinnati. She completely lost it after I placed Ronnie at Holy Mother. Throwing things and sayingthat I was destroying this family. That I wanted to take her baby away from her. That I never loved Ronnie, and that I was jealous of him. Putting him in that hospital killed me. I felt like I’d failed him because I couldn’t take care of him myself. She started her shit, and this time I yelled. I don’t even know how it came up, but I ended up outing myself to her. That was the first time she kicked me out of the house. Lived in my car for a couple of weeks before renting that apartment you’ve seen.”

Horror threatened to choke me. “Your car? Didn’t you have any friends you could have stayed with?”

Byron shook his head. “I had a few growing up, but I’d lost touch with everyone by the time I graduated high school. Life narrowed down to three things—school, work, and Ronnie. There wasn’t time for hanging out with friends. I didn’t have anyone I felt comfortable leaning on.”

There was no holding it in any longer. I released his hand so I could wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. The need to hold Byron, to absorb some of his pain, was nearly choking me. There was nothing else I could do. There was no way I could go back in time and help teenage Byron dealing with these big issues. All I could do was hold him now.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into his hair. “So fucking sorry. I wish there was something I could do, but I know there’s nothing and it sucks. It’s not fair that you had to go through this alone.”

Byron’s arms closed on my waist and squeezed me. “It’s enough that you’re holding me now. But there is one problem.”

“What?”

“It’s like a hundred degrees outside and you’re a walking furnace, making it twice at hot,” Byron said against my chest. A hint of laughter played among his words, and I released him to find him smiling—genuinely smiling—up at me.

I winked at him as I moved away. “Sorry. All my sexiness is prone to creating lots of heat.”

He nodded. “I came to realize that when I was lying in bed with you.”

We simply stared at each other for several seconds, grinning like idiots. There was still a shadow of weariness in his eyes, but his smile seemed to wipe away years of worry from his handsome face.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying that I’m really impressed with how you continue to care for your mother despite how she treats you. I don’t think I could have done it. Spending all your time and money on her only to have her call you names and treat you like shit. I would have said fuck it all years ago. Left her to deal with shit on her own.”

Byron winced and rubbed the nape of his sweaty neck. “Please don’t turn me into a saint. I’m not. There were plenty of times that I wanted to do that, but my dad would be disappointed in me if I abandoned her. Plus, even if I hate her a bit, she’s still my mom. She took care of me when I was little. I should at least take care of her now.” He quickly raised his hand as if he knew I had a few choice words about those thoughts. “I know. Probably not my sanest thoughts, but that’s how I feel. I don’t ask that you agree with it or even understand. Just respect my wishes.”

I snatched his hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Okay. That’s fair.”

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