Tyrant

The only thing I could do for him was listen because over the past few months he’d done his share of listening to me.

 

“I want to apologize, about the party. It wasn’t right. I wasn’t right.” He set his hands on top of his head and blew out a breath. “I shouldn’t have gone along with the senator and his speech, especially when I knew your heart wasn’t in it.” He looked up to the sky and closed his eyes as if he were gathering his thoughts. He turned back to where I stood on the dock. “I just wanted it to be true. I got carried away. I’m sorry, Ray.”

 

“You don’t have to apologize. I feel like we’re always apologizing to one another,” I said.

 

“Probably because we are.” He hopped down from the roof onto the dock. He stood in front of me with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I know why you’re here.”

 

“You do?”

 

“You’re leaving,” Tanner said shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

 

“Yeah, I am,” I answered. “It’s never felt right for me here and the more I remember, the more I know the right decision is for me to go.”

 

“He’s alive. You’re going back to him,” Tanner said. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

 

“How did you know?” I asked.

 

“I saw him last night.”

 

I bit my lower lip. “Yes, I’m going back to him.”

 

Tanner shook his head and rested his forehead on his palm. “I guess this changes everything.”

 

“If I’ve learned anything over the last six months, it’s that family can mean so many different things. Just because we aren’t together, doesn’t mean we can’t be a family, Tanner. Family is what you make it, what you want it to be.”

 

“That’s not true, because I want it to be you,” he said, reaching out for my hand and lifting it in his as if he were studying it. As if he wanted to look anywhere but in my eyes.

 

“It can be me. I’ll still be in your life. Just not the way you’re thinking I should be,” I reminded him.

 

“Can I assume that he’s coming to pick you two up?” Tanner asked. “Unless you’ve magically learned how to drive recently.”

 

“You should have told me that earlier. I tried to drive my mother’s car and only got the engine turned on before I realized that’s about all I knew how to do.” I looked at him quizzically. “You’re taking this awfully well, Tanner.”

 

He pulled me in for a hug and rested his chin on the top of my head, pressing my face into his chest. “I love you, Ray,” he said. Tears welled in my eyes. Tanner had been a good friend and I really was going to miss him, but I was ready to stop missing King.

 

“Here,” I said. Pulling his ring off of my finger I pushed it into his hand and closed his fingers around it.

 

“Fuck,” Tanner said, his eyes glassy. “That kind of makes this all real then, huh? You really are leaving?”

 

“I guess it does,” I said.

 

Tanner opened his fingers and studied the ring before putting it in his pocket. “Can I ask you a favor? One last thing before you go?”

 

“Sure,” I said.

 

“A kiss.”

 

“Tanner, I can’t—” I started to argue.

 

“Just one more, Ray. One last good-bye. Something to give me some closure.” Tanner looked at me with the big chestnut brown eyes I’d remembered from my dream. I knew why they were the only thing that stayed with me. They were so expressive they were practically arguing Tanner’s case for him, pleading with me to cut the kid a break and just kiss him already.

 

“One quick kiss,” I agreed, just wanting to get it over with. I could see his heart was breaking and being a spectator in that sport was adding another layer of guilt on top of what I was already feeling. I had the chance to offer him some closure so I took it.

 

“I never thought we’d have a last kiss,” Tanner commented. He took a step forward and cupped my face in his hands.

 

“You’re very persistent. And very bossy.”

 

It’s only Tanner. He just wants to say good-bye.

 

“They don’t call me The Tyrant for nothing,” Tanner said, leaning in so close, I could feel his cool breath against my cheeks before his lips softly brushed over mine.

 

Don’t trust The Tyrant. It was the very last thing Nikki had said to me when she’d come to my window.

 

And then it happened.

 

At first it was like lightening bolts going off in my brain. Sparks of light zapping on and off like a fluorescent office light struggling to turn on. Then, it was like my brain was a carnival where someone had located the power cord and plugged it back in turning the entire carnival on, lights, music, merry-go-round, and all.

 

My memory.

 

All of it.

 

Tanner pulled away as a very clear memory came bounding into my brain.

 

Of a very different Tanner.

 

Sammy refused to close his eyes until I read him at least three bedtime stories. He looks up at me with those puffy eyes, rimmed in red, and rubs them with the back of his hand. He is fighting a losing battle with the need for sleep, although he is putting in an admirable effort. After three stories and two songs, my boy has drifted off clutching his favorite blanket, the one with the pattern made entirely of the shadows of different types of motorcycles.

 

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