Page 10 of Merrily Yours
She nods her head in solidarity, knowing as well as I do that Gabe has no boundaries, and then plops down into the big armchair. She’s kicked her boots off already, presumably at the front door, so she props her feet up on the coffee table and turns her big brown eyes toward me.
“Will you get me a glass of water?” she asks. “And maybe a snack? Do you have any snacks?”
I roll my eyes because she knows the answer to that. “How snacky are we talking? A couple handfuls of pretzels or do you need me to make some macaroni and cheese?”
It’s silent as I walk to the kitchen of my small home and pour a glass of water. I poke my head around the wall to see why Bex hasn’t responded and watch as a single tear rolls down her cheek.
“Bex? What’s wrong?” I rush over, checking for injury. “Is it the baby?” Fear like I’ve never known takes over. I pull out my phone, ready to call 911 if necessary.
She shakes her head before choking out, “You’re”—sob—“the best brother.” Sob. “Did you know that?”
Relief that there isn’t anything seriously wrong with her courses through me. “For fuck’s sake, BB, don’t do that shit to me. I thought something was wrong!”
“Nothing is wrong.” She wipes under her eye. “I just love you. You’re also the best uncle.”
I pat her on the leg and then stand up, taking a deep breath to calm down. “Alright, enough with the sap. I’m assuming that’s a yes to macaroni?”
She nods and I put a pot of water on to boil. The truth is, I love being an uncle. I can’t wait to be adad, if I’m being honest with myself. But after seeing the way my parents love each other—hell the way Bex and Anders love each other, too—I know it’s a unique gift to find someone you want to share your life with.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Bex asks, and I realize I’ve been staring into the unboiling water, completely zoned out. I enjoy spending time with Bex because she doesn’t mind my brand of weird.
“I guess just thinking about Elodie and how much I love that kid. And how excited I am for another little Bardot-Olsson. I’ll have to come down to the city more often.” I look around my small kitchen. “And maybe I need to get a cat to keep me company.”
She perks up at that. “Oooh! I mean, definitely both of those things, but I want you to get a cat! We can’t in the apartment and it makes me so sad. I feed all of the strays at the park.”
“I’m sure the other park goers love that.”
“They can fuck right off,” she replies. “The cats love me and that’s all that matters.”
“Lovely,” I mutter, adding the dried noodles to the now boiling water. “You’ve really become quite the New Yorker.”
“I’ll always be a Sassifrasian… Sassafrasite? Whatever.” She pauses, gazing down at her belly. I can tell she has more to say, so I let her be. “I told Anders I’d like to end up back here one day. When he’s ready to make a career pivot of sorts. Maybe Callahan will even hire him at Hawthorne—wouldn’t that be full circle?”
It would be full circle, considering Callahan’s class led Bex and Anders back to each other.
“You know we miss you, but is that really what you want? To come back here after you worked so hard to get out?” I ask.
She contemplates for a moment. “I was a kid and I’d never experienced anything else before. I think maybe it’s not as bad as I thought it was here, you know?”
“Yeah, I do.” I smile.
Bex heaves a big sigh. “Enough about me. I can tell you aren’t happy either.”
I stir the macaroni, debating how to respond to that. “I’m… happy…” is what I settle on, which sounds even less convincing out loud.
I can feel her eyes roll without even looking at her. “Okay, JuJu. It’s okay if you aren’t though.”
“It’s not that I’munhappy…” I start. “I just feel like something is missing. I love music. I love playing with my band. I don’t love teaching, though. And I feel backed into a corner, like there aren’t any other options.”
I think that’s the first time I’ve voiced those thoughts out loud. They feel selfish, which is not something I’m used to being. I blend in. I’m the easy going son, hidden behind my brothers’ larger than life personalities. The quiet and broody bandmate with an ear for musical composition. The brother that’s always ready to comfort and provide, no matter what I’m sacrificing personally. I know Bex understands me more than anyone else, but even she doesn’t quite get it. She has Anders and Elodie, and now this baby on the way.
They’re building their own family, and I feel left behind.
“There are always other options, Jules,” Bex murmurs. “It might not be easy, but it’ll be worth it.”
I raise my eyebrow at her and she replies with, “Yeah, I heard it. I don’t know what this baby is doing to me, but I’m speaking in cliches.”
We’re quiet as I drain the pasta, mix in the cheese, and scoop her lunch into a bowl. She takes it from me and balances it on her small bump. “You shoo quif teafing,” she says.
