“I can’t love him.” I shake my head in denial.
“Why ever not?”
“Because it’s stupid. Falling in love with him is stupid.”
“Darling, no one ever said falling in love was smart. They say to fall in love with a good person. Someone you can see yourself with forever, through thick and thin, because everything about it is stupid.”
“Wow, you’re a real romantic,” I say while drying my eyes.
“I’m a realist.” She laughs. “You, my lovely friend, have been sideswiped by your own machinations. Your reticence to commit and desire to live in the moment has given you something wonderful. It’s given you the experience of bliss. Something people rarely get.” She points to herself. “If I had an experience like you’ve had with Brinn, I’d treasure it for always, hold it close and let the memories warm me on those cold nights. I’d be thankful for the gifts it’s given me.”
I place my palms over my heart and press. “But it hurts so damn bad.”
“I imagine it does. Do you think if you left you could outrun it?”
I shake my head. “What do I do?” I lean against her, resting my head against her shoulder.
“You’ll know when you know. You’ll work it out.”
I nod, hoping she’s right. For now, I know nothing and it’s disarming and humbling and I hate it.
Twenty-Seven
My first move is to change my Facebook status to Jayne’s roommate.
Temporarily, of course, while I got my shit together.
My next move is to go see Will. Per his request.
Standing outside the hospital ward, I turn over my purse to the security guard and listen to the instructions about protecting myself. Not that I should be in any danger, he adds.
I face Daanya, “Are you sure this is OK?” The last thing I want is make my brother worse.
“It’s perfect. He’s looking forward to seeing you. Just be yourself.” She takes my hands in hers. “Be his sister.”
I nod.
“Have them page me when you’re done.” One last squeeze and she’s off, down the hallway in her blue scrubs and shoes, so quiet I hear nothing but the pounding of my heart in my ears.
Inside the ward, behind the locked door, a guard points me toward an open day room full of tables, a TV, and a wall of windows. When I step inside Will’s sitting by himself at a table with a chessboard in front of him. I slide into the chair, grip the seat, and smile.
“There’s no way I’m playing you in chess. Especially since I’ve never won one game. Ever.”
He’s wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt and looks beat down. Dark circles reside under his eyes, and when he rests his arms on the table and leans toward me, I see he’s chewed his nails drastically short and many are bleeding.
“That’s because you were always trying to do what the manual said instead of trusting your instincts.” His smile is small but sincere and it follows the tick of his wiggling jaw. A movement I’m quickly becoming accustomed to.
“I’m not sure I have instincts. If I do, they’re....” I take a breath. “Jacked up.”
“Your instincts are fine. You knew I’d be on the beach.”
“Yeah, but had I just stayed away then you wouldn’t—” I can’t even look him in the eye, my guilt is so heavy.
“Stop. Stop right now.” Taking my hands in his, he says, “Look at me, Jo. This has nothing to do with you.”
I force myself to make eye contact. “That’s generous, Will, but you’re wrong. I’m a trigger. Our whole family is.” I swallow hard. Hearing that I contribute to my brother’s illness breaks me into pieces.
“Jo Jo, I swear this had nothing to do with you. But everything to do with me not wanting to have these stupid ticks anymore. I hate this.” He gestures to his swinging jaw. “I was on those new meds and at first I thought they were going well. The ticks were decreasing, but Daanya says my compulsions were increasing.” He shows me his hands.
“Look what I did to my nails. All because I couldn’t get them clean.”
I reach one hand out, palm up, and he places his hand in mine. I hold on tight.
“I should’ve listened to her, but I wanted these stupid ticks to be gone. I hate that she’s seen with a guy who can’t control his jaw.” His laughter is heavy with a bitterness that would break most men.
“You know she doesn’t care.”
“I know. I also know she can do better than me, but I’m going to hold on to her as long as I can.” His smile is sad and it takes every bit of willpower for me not to burst into tears. I’d give anything to make his life better.
“I want to help. How can I help? Please let me help.”
Will lets go of my hand and tucks his in his lap before he shrugs. “You can come by and visit me every day before you leave. Maybe even play a game of chess.” He nods to the board. “Or you could stay and come any day, every day.”
I find my answer written on his face. His sincerity and absolute certainty that I’m not a trigger is all I need to accept what I have been so desperate for.
I shake my head. “I’m not leaving. I’m staying. And if it’s OK with you, I’d like to be more a part of your life. I really want that.”
Will raises a brow in surprise. “What about your cruise job and European experience?”
“There’s nothing I want in Europe. Everything I need is here.” I wait with bated breath for his response.
He leans forward. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I can’t tackle this thing by myself. I really could use your help. I want you to stay.”
I promptly burst into tears, covering my face with my hands.
“Jo Jo?”
His hand is on my wrist, so I drop mine and look at him through my tears of happiness. “I’m so happy, Will. I wasn’t sure you’d want me to stay. And I really, really want to stay.”
“I’ll admit I’m surprised. When the shit hits the fan, you have a history of scurrying off and hiding. Like a...a...”
“Bunny?” Holy fuck. Seriously?
“Yeah, a scared little bunny. You tuck tail and run. Find a new burrow to hide in. Always have. Remember when Max fell out of the tree house? I found you hiding under the bed in the guest room. You missed dinner and everything.”
I brush away my tears and laugh. “Well, I’m not a scared bunny anymore. Wait, that’s not true. I’m scared but I’m not going to run.” Maybe I should pay Madame Monica another visit. “I’m gonna make mistakes, Will. But I’m like a fly stuck to flypaper. Not going anywhere.”
We laugh and I notice he takes in a deep breath just like me. Relief is a wonderful thing. Pushing back from the table, he stands and opens his arms for a hug. I step into them and hold on.
“What’ll it be? Ebony or ivory?” he asks as we step away.
“What?”
He indicates the board. “Ebony or ivory. You pick your pieces, and I’ll get a clock so we can time our moves.” He swivels on his heel and trudges off in an annoying slap of slippers against linoleum.