Page 60 of Spark
"To help you."
"He overstepped. Greatly." My muscles feel as though they’ve been cast in iron as I hold his gaze. As angry as I am with Finlay, my frustration with Cam sprouts like fresh licks of flames. Knowing me as well as he does, I thought he’d understand where I’m coming from.
Hercules lays a gentle hand on my shoulder and points to the boxes. "The one on the bottom has the small tools you brought to Finlay’s. The one on top has your laptop, books, chargers, and the smallest one, as you’ve discovered, has toiletries."
Cam sets down the other duffle bag. "These are all clothes and your rugby gear."
"Thanks. I appreciate you bringing everything over." I step away from the box with the toiletries. Glancing between Hercules and Cam, I’m at a loss for what else to say. Like I’m in an awkward holding pattern that only time can fix.
I don’t know if my friendship with Cam will be strained or ruined because of what happened between his brother and me. Cam is one of my best friends, I don’t want to lose him, but if he had to choose between Finlay and me, I know he’d pick his brother. Looking at him now, I can almost feel the divide widening between us, like ground shifting during an earthquake.
My car keys jingle as Hercules lays them on the mantel. Hands in the back pockets of his shorts, he takes a step back and the movement puts him closer to Cam. Worry I could lose him too shakes my foundation even more. People often pick sides when a relationship ends, and he’s been friends with Finlay a lot longer than he’s been friends with me.
Losing them would gut me. And if things become too awkward between Cam and me, then I would lose the rugby team too. It’s his team, after all.
I could be left with nothing and no one. My breaths turn shallow, not filling my lungs with enough oxygen to breathe properly, and I clutch my chest.
In two strides, Hercules is beside me, rubbing slow circles on my back, his voice soft and reassuring. "It’ll be okay, Teo."
"Will it?" I croak.
"You want to talk about what happened?"
I shake my head. "I got started on your bookcases yesterday. Turns out I had enough wood in the basement to complete one of them. I cut the pieces and just finished sanding them out in the yard before you arrived. I’ll take a trip to the store after work tomorrow for the wood for bookcase number two."
"Can I see the pieces?" His expression and tone reminds me of when he suggested we join the subs at the sidelines to cheer on the team yesterday. An activity to distract me from my worries. He’s such a good friend.
"Sure." I gesture for him to walk through the house. I don’t know if Cam will still want me to make the rocking chair or cat beds. He isn’t saying anything, but follows us into the yard.
The pieces of wood line the small concrete section beside the steps. It’s almost time to mow the grass again. Finlay did a great job last time… even if that was when he spied my bills. I figured out the timing. It must have been then, unless he snooped in my bag at his place, and he’s never struck me as the type to snoop. Forcing away the thoughts, I pick up one of the pieces and hand it to Herc. "I’m really happy you went with maple."
He turns it over, examining the piece before setting it down with the rest. "When you told me it lends itself to a variety of stains, that made the most sense to me. My furniture is a mishmash of styles and periods. I don’t know what stain will be best yet."
"You have time to figure it out. There’s no rush. You could even stain it yourself later. You know, if… If you want to do it yourself or find someone else." Blinking away the sting in my eyes, I can’t help wondering if this is one of the last times I’ll see him. I don’t even care if he changes his mind about wanting the bookcases, as long as I don’t lose him.
"Teo, I’m not going anywhere." Herc pats my arm and squeezes, the gesture as comforting as it is disquieting.
I know he means it at this moment. But he might be forced to make a decision between Finlay and me down the line if things become too strained or awkward. Severed relationships can tear other relationships apart as collateral damage.
I swing my focus to Cam. "If you want me to stay away from the team, I’ll understand."
Cam shakes his head and looks skyward, before saying with a level of exasperation, "You can play, Teo."
Like with Herc, I know he means what he’s saying, but again, might be forced to change his position later. Maybe distancing myself now would be the smart thing. Maybe I can take up soccer or softball or football. There are other sports. Other leagues. Other potential friends.
My stomach drops and my head spins at the idea of losing my foundation and starting over amid the rubble of a broken heart and untethered ends. "Thanks, both of you, but if that changes, it’s okay. I know where loyalties lay."
"Are you sure it’s really over between you and my brother?"
I whip my gaze to him. "Cam—"
Cam holds up his hands like he does on the field when trying to get the team’s attention. "Listen. Finlay likes giving people gifts. That’s how he shows affection."
"Our ideas of appropriate gifts are nowhere near the same." Discomfort is tight and constricting like clothes that are too small. I don’t want to talk to Cam about this. He’s as wealthy as Finlay and considering the gifts he lavishes on Olive, he’s not going to understand where I’m coming from.
Last night, I did a little searching on my phone. When I discovered that the price of the hugeget wellbouquet Finlay gave me was over a hundred dollars, I was blown away, and was so again when I looked up some of the prices of the bottles of wine he’s broken out at his place and here. I’ll never be able to match Finlay’s price points on presents. At least not anytime soon. And even if I didn’t have this debt hanging over me, we don’t look at money the same way.
I nudge the toe of my sneaker against a small block of wood similar to the one I picked up when Finlay and I stopped at my house last week. In the harsh, cold light of reality, the keychain I made for him while he was at work, carved from that piece, now seems simple, small, and hopelessly inadequate. He acted like he loved it, running his fingers over the carving of his name and his family’s crest, but I’ll never be able to give him truly extravagant gifts or spoil him with the things I know he loves because I can’t afford them.
