My Killer Vacation

When did my skin turn into fire?

Before I register my own movements, I have my phone in my hands. I start to call Taylor. I need to hear her voice, but I’m pretty sure I’ll drop dead from the pain of her sending me to voicemail. And what would I say, anyway? Earlier today, I was ready to leap without looking. A relationship with Taylor would be nothing like my first marriage, because I’m too…present with her. The way I feel about her? It doesn’t come close to anything I’ve experienced before. Or even knew was possible. But I don’t have any stability to offer her. Would I be holding her back from the happiness she might find elsewhere? Jesus, I can’t do that.

I need more. She deserves more. Where do I even start?

I scroll to my brother’s number and hit send, holding the device to my ear in an unsteady grip. “Are you calling me on purpose or is this an unfortunate butt dial?”

It has been so long since I heard Kevin’s voice, that it takes me a moment to respond. The sound of it is like walking into a wind tunnel of memories. “I’m calling you on purpose.”

“Oh yeah? Well, fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too.” The noise in the background tells me he’s in a crowd. A man’s voice booms over a loudspeaker, someone shouts for a beer. “Where are you?”

“Me? Where am I?” The crowd makes a collectively disappointed sigh. “You don’t get to ask me that when your ass has been God knows where for three years.”

“You have your whole life to be a prick, Kev. Don’t waste it all on one phone call.”

The breath he lets out sounds like steam escaping. A moment passes. “Are you in trouble or something?”

My haggard appearance reflects back at me from the mirror above the dresser. “In a manner of speaking, yeah.”

“Spit it out, Myles. I’m not a mind reader.”

“You know what?” I pull the phone away from my ear, ready to end the call. “Forget it.”

“No!” He clears his throat. “No…hold up. I’m listening. You called me in the middle of the Sox game. What did you expect?”

Nostalgia settles over me. The smell of hot dogs and beer. Blocking the summer sun with my hand so I can see the field. Kevin smacking me in the shoulder after a big play. I miss those afternoons with my brother. I don’t think I realized how much until I watched Taylor with Jude. “You’re at the game?”

He sniffs. “Of course I am. You think I gave up our season tickets just because you’re not around to chip in anymore?”

“Damn.” I let out a low whistle. “I guess I owe you some cash.”

“Come home and we’ll call it even.”

The crowd cheers, the announcer’s excited voice narrating a player’s journey to the batter’s box. Going back to Boston has been out of the question for three years, but right now…it feels possible. Everything seems possible after watching Taylor burn rubber and skid sideways in front of the mayor’s car like a stunt driver. After having that incredible woman run to me, let me hold her, nothing in this world seems impossible.

I’m not going to disintegrate walking into my brother’s or parents’ home. They want me there, despite this failure I’m carrying around my neck like an albatross. Seeing Taylor with Jude made me think of my own family throughout the week. What I’m missing. How they would act on a snorkeling trip. Probably ridiculing the size of my feet. Or my parents and I would gang up on Kevin, claiming to have seen a shark. The typical asshole behavior I grew up with and shaped me and it’s not perfect, but it’s ours.

I’m not perfect…but I’m still theirs.

I could have been hers. She told me she could easily love me. That must mean I’m not beyond saving, right?

Maybe it’s time to believe my family when they say they still want me around.

That I’m…worth having around.

“I’m in Massachusetts. Cape Cod, actually. I could…swing by.”

My brother says nothing for long moments. “Really.”

“Yeah. For a visit or whatever. I could do that.”

“Last time we spoke, you told me you’d come back to Boston when hell froze over. What changed?”

“I, uh…I don’t know.” My chest winds up like a clock. “I met this woman.”

“Oh. Shit.” There’s a smile in his voice. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“You and me both.”

“You’re the guy who always said women are a hassle, right?”

“That was me,” I sigh, massaging my eye sockets.

“Just making sure.” He chuckles. “What’s the problem? Bring her with you for this visit.”

“Seeing as how we just broke up, that’s going to be hard. I mean…” I stand up and start to pace from one end of the motel room to the other. “We weren’t even technically dating. She was a suspect on a case I’m working on as a favor. It’s a long story. Bottom line is, she got sick of my shit and…you know. It’s for the best.”

“Yeah. Sounds like it’s for the best. You’re on the verge of tears.”

“The fuck I am.”

I might actually be pretty close to crying.

“Whatever your version of tears is, you’re verging there.”

Rolling my eyes, I cross back to the other side of the room. “This is what I get for calling you for advice, I guess.”

“Advice? On women? Did you forget I’m married to a fellow ball scratcher?”

“No.” I plow a hand through my hair. “How is he, anyway?”