Take This Man

Chapter Fourteen



The following afternoon, while Jason was visiting his family, Elyse took a taxi to pick up the things she"d left at Adam"s. She wasn't surprised when Adam's brother came to the door. When she"d called the house a short time ago, it was Matthew who answered and told her to come on over.

Her stomach was in a twist. She hadn"t spoken to Adam since their blow-up the day before. Had he asked Matthew to run interference for him? Was he avoiding her completely?

If so, maybe it was for the best. What was left to say? Better she simply pick up her things and head out. Jason would be waiting.

Matthew stepped aside, ushering her into the house. “Hey, Elyse.”

“Hey,” she stammered, feeling awkward. She"d always liked Matthew. Would it be wrong to hug him now? She wasn"t sure how much he knew about the situation between her and Adam. Maybe under the circumstances—

He eased her qualms by enfolding her gently in his arms. “It"s good to see you again.” His embrace warmed her. There was nothing sexual in it. It simply expressed brotherly, comforting affection. “Thanks. You, too.” Elyse found it impossible to say much more because her throat was clogged with emotion.

He stepped back and gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat.”

Elyse glanced at the large-screen television.

Some movie with Keanu Reeves was on. Matthew 143

picked up the remote from the coffee table and muted the sound.

She hitched the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I can"t. I"ve got a cab waiting—”

“Look, I got you here under somewhat false pretenses,” Matt confessed. “I know you came to pick up your stuff, but I was really hoping we could talk for a few minutes.”

“I"d like to, really, Matt, but I think I should get my clothes and go before Adam gets back…” Matt blinked at her, confused. “He didn"t go anywhere. He"s here.”

Elyse"s heart stopped, and a cold wave of anger passed over her. “He"s here? What"s he doing, hiding?”

“He"s in the bedroom. He"s sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” Her eyes went wide. Her guts had been in knots since yesterday, but apparently he had no such affliction. “Just taking a little afternoon snooze, huh?”

“Sleeping it off. He got wasted last night, and made himself sick.”

“Really. Wasted. Was he celebrating?”

“No. Elyse, no. Ugh…” Matt groaned. “I"m f*cking this up…look, please sit down for a minute.”

“The taxi—”

“Let me take care of it. I"ll drive you back to wherever you"re staying.”

She reached into her purse for some bills, but he waved them away and stepped outside to settle with the taxi. When he returned, he sat in a faded armchair and Elyse sank onto the worn old sofa. He gazed at Elyse, his hazel eyes full of concern. The brothers looked a lot alike, but Matthew wasn"t afraid to let his expression reflect his emotions.

Adam"s face was like a door with a “Closed” sign on it. “My brother"s always calling me dumbass, but 144

he"s the one…” Matt shook his head in frustration.

“He really does care about you.”

“He"s got quite the way of showing it.”

“He can"t show it, that"s his problem. That"s why he got drunk off his ass last night. He went to a friend"s house and passed out on her couch. She called me this morning to get him home.” The she hadn"t escaped Elyse"s notice. “Is this friend named Kim?”

“Yeah. Kim. But nothing happened, besides him getting drunk.”

“And you know this how? Never mind,” she said quickly, pissed at herself for even caring. It wasn"t her business. She and Adam weren"t together. Damn it. When was she ever going to stop caring?

“I know because he wouldn"t do that. Not when he loves you the way he does.”

Elyse blinked back the tears stinging her eyes.

God damn it. If only it were true. That Adam really loved her.

Matt leaned forward in his chair, his hands on his knees. “Has he ever told you much about growing up? What it was like?”

“No.” She swiped at her eyes. “You know he doesn"t like to talk about that.”


“Touchy, feely crap,” Matthew said, mimicking his brother"s dismissive voice and facial expression.

Elyse cracked a weak smile. “Yeah. He told me after your dad died, your mother had to work a lot, and it was up to you guys to take care of things.”

“Right. Then she got married again. He ever tell you about Don?”

“Your stepfather? Well, I know he drank.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “Don was a drunk.”

“And Adam hated him.”

“Hates him. Still. Mostly because of the way Don treated our mother.”

Elyse"s skin went clammy with dread. “He 145

didn"t—”

“No. He didn"t beat her. Don was a sponge. He couldn"t hold a job because of the booze. Then he couldn"t get a job, and finally didn"t even bother to try. So my Mom had to work two, three jobs to hold it all together. Don was useless. Total waste of space. But my mother never even thought about divorcing him.”

She bit her lip. “How long did it go on?”

“Well, let"s see, I was ten and Adam was twelve when they got married. Adam moved out of the house when he was sixteen. Did he tell you that?”

“No, he never—how did he manage?” So young to be out on his own. Elyse"s heart ached with sympathy.

“He lived with different friends, here and there.

We didn"t have any relatives to go to.” No relatives. At least she had Grandma Wanda, as awful as she was. Why had Adam never shared any of this with her?

Because he didn"t want her feeling sorry for him.

Because he didn"t want to sound like a crybaby.

Because he didn"t want her getting too close.

“That"s kind of how our business got started, you know. We did yard work and odd jobs to make some extra money to help out. Adam wanted to quit school at sixteen to get a full-time job. My mother begged him not to.”

Elyse closed her eyes. Had she known this years ago, she"d have loved Adam all the more. Knowing now only made her heartsick and sad. It was too late to matter anymore.

“Matthew, I don"t see what all of this—”

“I"m telling you this because I don"t think you really know my brother. That"s the problem. He doesn"t let anyone get close enough to know him.” Elyse slumped against the sofa in defeat. Her posture encouraged Matthew to continue. “All right.” 146

“Anyway. Adam hated Don"s guts. They fought all the time—when Don wasn"t too drunk to stand up, or wasn"t passed out somewhere. Adam begged my mother to dump him, but like I said, she wouldn"t. So he left at sixteen. Six years later, our mother was killed by a drunk driver. And I think Adam has always blamed himself in some way.”

“That makes no sense,” she murmured.

“No, but…look. When Adam left home, part of him felt like he was abandoning our mother. But I think he also felt she"d already abandoned him.”

“Because she chose Don over him. And over you.” She understood abandonment. After all, hadn"t Sunny abandoned her, leaving her in the less-than-loving care of Grandma Wanda? Elyse knew how it felt to be shunted aside in favor of someone else, to feel unimportant.

Matthew nodded. “My brother and I have both been dealing with a lot of crap from those days. It"s funny, but Adam was the one to point it out to me a while ago, when I was having some problems.”

“You have nothing to feel guilty about,” she told him. “Either one of you.”

“Guilt"s a funny thing. It doesn"t always make sense. We both wanted to protect our mother, in different ways. Adam left to spare her all the fighting, and I stayed to try to make things better.

But neither one of us was able to save her.”

“But it wasn"t your job to save her. She had choices.”

And so did you, spoke a voice in Elyse"s head.

“I don"t know what happened between you two.

But do you think there"s any way the two of you—” She shook her head. “I don"t know. I think we"ve hurt each other too much.”

“I"m sorry to hear that.” His voice was soft, resigned. He got to his feet. “Well, let me get your suitcase.”

147

“Actually, I…I"d like to stay awhile and…” What was she saying? She paused a moment to wrestle with her conflicted emotions. “You"ve given me a lot to think about.”

Matthew understood she needed time alone to consider all he had told her. He smiled. “Stay as long as you like.” He picked up the remote control and turned on the TV"s sound. “I"ve gotta get going anyway. Somebody"s waiting for me.” He gave Elyse a grin.

She grinned back. “What"s her name?”

“Andie.”

“Oh.” Andy? Something had changed since she"d last seen Matthew. At a bit of a loss, she fumbled for the right response. “Nice.”

He laughed at Elyse"s assumption. “Andie, short for Andrea.”

“Oh. Well.” Elyse felt her face get hot and she laughed, too. “She"s a lucky lady.” Matthew shrugged. “I"m a lucky guy.” He walked to the front door then turned, thrusting his hands in his pockets. “I hope I see you again real soon, Elyse. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He left, closing the door quietly. She sat for a few moments, and then she pulled her cell phone from her purse and punched in Jason"s number. She could have texted him, but she really needed to hear his voice.

“Hello?” The mellow tone of his voice calmed her. “Jason? Are you still—”

“No, I cut the visit short. There"s only so much torture I can endure.” He sounded tired. “I"m on my way back to the hotel now.”

“Well…I"m still at Adam"s.”

“All right.”

“I—I don"t know how long I"ll be. It"s not fair, 148

making you wait…”

“It"s all right. I"ll be here. Are you two going to talk?”

“I don"t know. I don"t know what to do,” she said.

She hated this, feeling so stupid, so unsure.

“You do know.” Jason was not about to let her wallow in self-pity. “There"s no reason the three of you can"t live happily ever after.”

“Three?”

“You, Vostek, and the cat.”

“It"s not that simple.”

“Only ?cause you"re stubborn as hell. Look, your job, your schooling, whatever—it can all be worked out. You"re the only one who can decide if you love the man enough to make it work.” Even through the cell phone, Elyse heard his heavy sigh. “It would be awfully nice if one of us could have a happy ending, Leelee.”



****

When Adam awoke, the sun was beginning to set. Shit. He"d slept the whole day away. Groaning as he flopped his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat up in increments, holding his throbbing head to keep it from falling off his shoulders. His stomach was sour, and his mouth tasted like a herd of buffalo had walked through it.

The last he remembered, he was lying on Kim"s futon, afraid to move his head for fear of spewing the contents of his stomach all over the living room.

A sodden lump, he was too big for Kim to maneuver, so she had to call his brother to come get his ass. He vaguely remembered the two of them half-carrying, half-dragging him out to Matthew"s truck, where Wash threatened to beat his brains out if he puked inside. Adam had to ride the entire way home with his head hanging out the open window, like a damn dog.


If that wasn"t humiliating enough, he then had 149

to listen to his pain-in-the-ass brother"s lecture. It began as soon as Matthew got him home and heaved him onto the bed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adam could only groan in response. He winced as Matt twisted off one of his shoes. “Ouch! Watch it.” “Aw, shut up. p-ssy.” Matt dropped the shoe and wrenched off the other even more roughly.

“Hey!” Adam tried to kick him.

“Ha! Missed.”

“Shithead.” Adam felt so lousy, he couldn"t even curse with conviction. He lay sprawled on the bed, his arms flung wide.

“Back atcha.” Matthew grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him to his left side. “Lie this way. In case you puke, you won"t choke on it.” Adam almost heaved then and there at that delightful image. His brother placed an empty wastebasket near the bed. “You can hork into that.” Adam gagged. “Go ?way.”

“What, and miss all this? Hell no. Why, this brings back all those fond memories of how Mom used to do this for Don. Remember? How he"d get stinkin" drunk, and she"d put him to bed all nice and cozy? And then she"d tell us ?Ssshhh, be quiet, don"t wake your stepfather. He"s sick."” A red wave of rage pounded over Adam as he thought of all the ways their mother coddled Don, protected him. He squeezed his eyes shut as if that could close out the memories.

“Or maybe you don"t remember,” Matthew went on. “You weren"t there that long, after all.” Adam"s eyes snapped open but he was afraid to look at his brother. A heavy mantle of guilt pressed down on him. It was true. He"d bailed on his brother and his mother when things got tough.

He was afraid of the anger, the blame he might 150

see in his brother"s eyes. But Matthew watched him stoically. “I never blamed you for that, and I don"t blame you now.” His voice was low and raw. “But it"s time for you to stop running, and stop pushing away the people who care about you. Me. Elyse.” Adam blinked in surprise. “How"d you—”

“Kim told me.”

Adam groaned again. Just how out of it had he been, to have missed that conversation?

“You called me a dumbass once, when I was having problems with Andie. Told me to tell her how I felt about her. Well, it"s time for you to grow a pair, bro. Talk to Elyse.”

“She hates me.

“I thought Andie hated me.”

“Elyse really hates me. And I gave her good reason to.” He turned away, unable to stand the sorrow in his brother"s face. “I"m all right. Just let me sleep.”

Wash hesitated as though he wanted to say more. “All right. I"ll be in the other room.”

“I don"t need a nanny,” Adam snapped.

A pillow landed on his head. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

Now, Adam rolled out of bed and stumbled down the hall into the bathroom where he rinsed his mouth in the sink and splashed some water on his face. Adam grimaced as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like something out of a horror movie—as sallow and hollow-eyed as one of those zombies from Night of the Living Dead. He felt like one, too.

He swallowed a couple of aspirin with a mouthful of water, then eyed the bottle and aw, f*ck it, swallowed two more. His head felt like it contained a marching band performing a half-time show.

The wave of nausea swept over him suddenly, 151

doubling him over. And it wasn"t all the beer he"d ingested making him sick. It was from knowing how well and truly f*cked he was. Knowing he"d lost Elyse. Again. For good.

He sank onto the closed toilet seat, still doubled over, holding his gut and willing himself not to puke all over the floor.

Coffee. He"d make coffee. Coffee would make him feel half-human again, and give him something to do. Something to keep him from thinking about Elyse for a few minutes. For the next few days or weeks or God knew how long, he would live his life a minute at a time, trying not to think about her.

Trying not to miss her.

He shuffled into the hallway, again just like one of those back-from-the-dead characters, then stopped before he reached the kitchen. There was one other thing he could do. Like Wash had said—he could talk to Elyse. They"d done plenty of hollering yesterday, yeah, hurling accusations back and forth, but they hadn"t talked.

Elyse hated his guts, though. What could he say to change her feelings?

Maybe nothing. But as he pondered it, Adam realized there was something. She might not want to hear it, might not even care. But he needed to tell her. Coffee forgotten, he grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter. He strode to the front door, passing through the living room. Wash was gone. The front curtains had been drawn, making the room dark.

Adam briefly noticed the crumpled afghan on the sofa. His brother must have sacked out there for a while in front of the TV.

An unfamiliar car, an old junker, was parked at the curb. He barely noticed it until a man stepped out of it and limped across the yard toward him.

Adam squinted at the man—then felt as though 152

he"d been doused in ice water. It was his stepfather.

Don no longer resembled the man Adam remembered—the bloated drunk whose face was road-mapped with broken blood vessels. He looked smaller—shriveled, like a dried apple. His skin was yellow. He looked sick.

Adam didn"t care. “You"ve got no business here.” Don didn"t blink. “Matthew said you got my letter.”

Adam gritted his teeth. Wash had talked to him? He"d kick his brother"s ass later. “Got it, tossed it. Get off my driveway, and get the hell off my property.”

Don persisted. “So you didn"t read it.”

“No, I didn"t f*cking read it. You have nothing to tell me that I want to hear.” Adam opened the door of his truck and stepped in, but couldn"t close the door. Don held it open. He was stronger than he looked.

“All right,” the older man said. “Maybe you got some things you want to say to me.”

“Old man, everything I wanted to say to you, I already said the day my mother was buried. That if I ever saw you around here again, I would kick your ass.” Pushing the man away, Adam slammed the door shut. Don yanked his hand back just in time to keep from getting his fingers crushed. Adam rolled the window partway, to fire the parting shot. “So f*ck off before I keep my promise.”

“You got a lot of hate in you still, don"t you, son?”

Adam"s icy shock instantly melted, transforming to an inferno of rage. He bared his teeth. “I am not.

Your. Son.”

Don"s mouth fell open, a flicker of fear in his eyes. Adam relished the man"s fear. He pressed his advantage, remembering what his brother had told 153

him a while ago. “You look like shit, you know? You sick or something?”

Don nodded. “Yeah.”

Adam wondered why hearing that from the man"s own lips didn"t make him happy. “Yeah?

What, cirrhosis?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, well,” Adam replied with a distinct lack of sympathy. “Guess you gotta expect that when you"re a drunk, huh?”

Don said, “That"s right. I got only myself to blame.”

“So, what? You think your number"s coming up, and you want to make amends. Tell everybody how sorry you are and be forgiven. That"s why you"re here?”

“I made a lot of mistakes—”


“Mistakes?” Adam echoed. “That"s what you call it? Being a drunken bum, a leech, an abusive a*shole, that"s a mistake?”

“I never hurt you. I never raised a hand to you or your mother.”

“You never hurt us? When every day you told us how worthless we were, how we"d never amount to anything, that we were shit? When you called my mother filthy names, said she was nothing but a whore and a cheat? When would she have time to cheat? She was always working to support her children, and the worthless, lazy scumbag she married. I wish she had cheated on your ass!”

“I don"t remember—”

“You don"t f*cking remember ?cause you were drunk all the f*cking time! You don"t remember how my brother and I never had friends over, because your drunken ass was always passed out someplace.

Or how the whole place stunk of piss, because you were so bombed you couldn"t even make it to the toilet. Or how my mother used to beg you to stop 154

drinking and get some help. But no, you didn"t have a problem. It was us, we were the problem. So now you"re sober. So what? It"s too late to do my mother any good. And me, I don"t give a shit. So go someplace else for your forgiveness.” Adam pushed the key in the truck"s ignition and turned on the engine.

The man didn"t step away from the door. “Your mother would want you to hear me out.” Black spots danced in front of Adam"s eyes. He shut the engine down and shoved the door open so hard that his stepfather stumbled backward. Don fell on his ass on the lawn. Adam leaped out of the truck and grabbed the front of Don"s shirt, dragging him to his feet. “You don"t talk about my mother, do you hear me?” He shook the man like a terrier might shake a rat before snapping its neck. “After the shit you put her through, you don"t get to say her name.” As if in slow motion, his fingers curled into a fist, and his arm moved back, ready to deliver a blow.

“Adam!” someone screamed.

155