Page 55 of Take Two

He rests the weight and sits up. That’s when I get a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. This isn’t just a workout session. He wants to interrogate me about Violet.

“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know. You don’t know either because you’ve never—”

“I’ve never what?”

“Been in a relationship before.”

“What’s your point?” I cross my arms.

“My point is that this doesn’t have to be anythang serious. You don’t have to rush into a relationship.”

“Rush? You just reminded me that I’m a thirty-four-year-old man who has never been with someone in his adult life who wasn’t a drunk. I’ve been sober for three years. I’ve worked on myself for all that time. What part of that seems rushed to you?”

He stands and holds both hands up.

“And do you have something against Violet?” As happy as Vickie is for me, my brother’s reaction has been lukewarm at best.

“I don’t have anything against Violet. Why would I? I just want to make sure you’re okay. This isn’t about her at all.”

“I care about her. How would you have taken it if I had this same conversation with you about Vickie?” His head rolls back as if I just slapped him. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not. You would have told me to mind my business.”

“Why are you so dang defensive? All I’m sayin’ is, just play it cool. If this doesn’t work out—”

I storm out of the gym while he’s mid-sentence. I don’t care what he has to say. I want to stomp down the hall and slam the door to my room, but I don’t do that. Not with Vickie trying to put Johnny down for a nap.

I’m barely in my room two seconds before he comes in behind me.

“Stay out of my relationship,” I order.

“Will you calm down? Jesus, you’re so touchy. This isn’t even about Violet. I’m worried about you.”

“Why? Why are you now so suddenly worried about me?”

“Suddenly?” he asks. “Really?”

“Yes.Suddenly.” I say the words slowly to make my point. “There were years where you looked at me as if I was some kind of leper. Years where you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me. Now that I’m finally getting my stuff together, you’re concerned about me? Where is this coming from?” The words come spilling out before I have time to think them through. If I wasn’t so angry, I wouldn’t say them. I know why he treated me the way he did for all those years, and that’s because I was the problem, but it still hurt how he discarded me.

“What kind of revisionist history is that? That’s not how I remember it,” he says. “I was always worried about you. It was always about you, Charlie. Do you think your addiction didn’t trickle down to everyone? To me. To mama. Even Evan. Alcoholics don’t live in a bubble, and if things don’t work out with you and Violet, I don’t want you to soothe yourself by goin’ back to drinkin’.”

There it is. This is his way of handling me.

“So, all the work I’ve done over the past three years means nothing to you? You think I’m so weak that a breakup will send me back into a dang bottle? You think I want to lose another thang to alcohol? I don’t. I don’t want to lose my family, even though you’re being so darn annoyin’ right now. I’m not going to lose Violet either. I care about her. Drop it.” My voice hardens at the last command.

“In the past,” he says slowly, “you have to admit that you soothed yourself by drinkin’. Whenever you were disappointed, you—”

“I know what I went through better than you ever could. I understand why I did what I did, and I’m doing my best not to repeat old patterns. Why isn’t that good enough for you? Why do you constantly have to remind me what a screw-up I am?”

He steps back almost as if my words struck him. His face reddens and his eyes cloud in anger. “I’m not doing that. I’m worried that—”

“I’m not going to end my relationship to appease your fear, Colton. I’m so sick and tired of being alone. You don’t know what that kind of loneliness is like. You’ve always—”

“Nope. Don’t go there. You don’t know what it’s been like for me either.”

I throw my head back and laugh. I gesture around the lavish guest bedroom. I point to the wide set of windows overlooking Central Park. I walk past him, open the door, and point to Johnny’s nursery.

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