Page 8 of Tank
“You’ve been practicing hitting me in the face with a pillow?”
“You always say you’re going to fall asleep in my bed and kick me out. I need something to keep you awake.” His voice is so serious.
“Kid, I’m just playing with you. I wouldn’t make you sleep on the floor, really,” I laugh.
He comes running over and dives on the bed, book in hand. Taking it from him as he gets comfy, I notice he chose the next book in the Captain Underpants collection I got him.
“Okay, kid, you comfy?” I ask him as he keeps wiggling.
“Yup,” he finally replies.
“Okay, then we shall begin,” I say in a funny voice, making him giggle.
An hour later, Beau is sleeping soundly.
I put the bookmark in place and leave the book on the nightstand. As I stand, I notice Carrie in the doorway with a tear down her cheek.
“Fuck, what’s happened?” I ask as I rush to her and wrap my arms around her.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong. Everything is right,” she sniffles.
“Okay, I’m confused. Wanna man it up for me? Why are you crying?” I ask as I pull away so I can look at her.
“Idiot,” she says as she slaps my chest.
Moving into the hall, I close the door quietly.
“Right, I’m the idiot. You’re the one standing in the doorway crying for no reason,” I gruff at her.
“See, idiot.” She chuckles. “I love watching Beau and you together. He loves you so much, and you mean so much to him, but I think he means just as much to you.”
I pull her in for another hug.
“Both him and you mean the world to me. I would give my life for you all,” I promise her, with a kiss on her forehead.
“We love you, Scott,” she sniffles as she hits me right in the feels, using my real name.
“I love you too, Gorgeous,” I reply with my nickname for her.
I hold her for a few moments longer before we head downstairs to Joker.
“He go down, okay?” he asks as I join him on the back deck with a beer.
“Yeah, we started the Captain Underpants series,” I say as I take a seat and watch the sun setting.
“You okay, brother?” he asks, after a few silent moments.
“I’m good. How’s Carrie doing? She seems to be doing better.” I quickly change the subject.
“She’s doing great. Still has the odd moment, but therapy is helping, and the moments are getting less and less. Not sure you ever fully get over what she’s been through, but we’re working through it together.”
“How are you coping with it all?”
He looks out over the backyard and takes a long pull from his beer. I watch him and see a man who has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Joker always takes things to heart, but keeps his feelings locked away.
“I sometimes struggle with the guilt,” he admits.
“Why do you feel guilty?” I press him, knowing he needs to talk this out.
