If (38 page)

BIRD

I WISH I
could say I remembered much about Jordan’s wake or funeral, but it was all a haze. What I do remember is Ash was always there. Like air, he was always present, necessary, but never intrusive. His presence gave me the strength to get through those difficult days. But it was the days after the funeral, when I had to try and learn how to start a life without my best friend that would be the hardest.

It was so sudden. We didn’t have time to prepare or say goodbye. Jordan’s death hadn’t even really sunk in until after we buried him. And when it did hit, I felt like every moment of every day, I was trying to move forward in quicksand. And the harder I tried the more I sank.

Ash was there. He held me on the bathroom floor as I cried. He listened to me when I needed to talk and other times he sat with me in complete silence. He was my strength when I thought I couldn’t possibly muster up my own.

I met Ash’s mother at his father’s funeral. I learned that’s where he got his sage eyes. The situation in which we met was not ideal, but she was gracious considering the circumstances. She also insisted Ash bring his “friend” over for dinner someday like any curious mother would.

When we got back to my place after his father’s funeral, Ash was quiet. But the quiet was not peaceful. I could sense things stirring inside of him. Things he was afraid to let me see.

He wanted to be strong for me, but I needed to let him be weak. I needed to be the one to carry us.

He walked into the kitchen to get some water and I followed him. His back was turned to me as he poured the glass. I came up to him from behind and whispered, “It’s okay to be sad, Ash. You don’t have to hold it in for me.”

He stopped pouring the glass and carefully placed the pitcher onto the counter. Then he turned, looking me in the eyes, they were right at the brim, but he was fighting with every last sliver of fortitude.

I looked into his green eyes, framed by pale pink, stressed from holding in grief and I caressed the side of his face. “Tell me what you’re feeling Ash. Let me help you. Let me thank you.”

I wrapped my arms around him and I felt two great two great heaves as he pushed out the tears. He wrapped his arms around me like I was the only thing keeping him afloat.

Asher didn’t bury his feelings under cryptic language so he could later punish himself. He told me all his regrets, his fears. He told me everything, his nightmares where his sister’s death morphed into me drowning just like her. He told me about how scared he was to snap again. How he was afraid that one day the meds might stop working or take away his synesthesia. How terrified he was of being sent to a hospital and all the details of his first breakdown.

That’s when I realized Ash had grown.

I finally had all of Ash. Not just pieces of him. All of him.

BIRD

Two weeks after Jordan’s death, I went to visit Trevor. He was originally from San Francisco, which meant he had family to help, but Anna was now my responsibility, too. Trevor and Anna were my family.

While I was gone, Ash went to his mother’s for a family get-together. When he told me about the plans, it brought the first glimmer of joy to my heart since Jordan’s death.

I pulled up to their townhouse. My heart hurt knowing I wouldn’t hear Jordan’s booming laugh through its halls and that I wouldn’t be greeted at the door with one of his bear hugs that included an extra spin for me. I had taken my time with Jordan for granted. It’s so easy to do that when you think you have all the time in the world with someone.

I rang the doorbell and I heard a commotion behind the door, including a dog’s barking and Anna calling out. “It’s Buwdie!”

“Hey, beautiful,” Trevor said as he swung the door open. He had a smile on his face, but I could see the bags under his eyes from crying and lack of sleep.

“Hey, beautiful,” I said back. It was a joke with us, since Trevor was so damned gorgeous.

We hugged, but unlike our usual greetings, this hug lingered. And then it morphed into a tight embrace as we both wept. Trevor was surrounded by family throughout the funeral and it was the first time he and I were alone. Jordan was almost always with us, and so that made his absence more prevalent.

We cried for a few minutes and then I noticed little Anna looking up at us, confused. That poor little girl had gone through so much.

I wiped my tears and knelt down. “Hey, my little buttercup,” I said kissing her forehead. She stared at my hair like she was hypnotized and curled it around her fingers. She had always been fascinated by my hair. I gave her an Eskimo kiss. Anna softly cupped my face. My face was just auntie Birdie, the face the kissed her, laughed with her, danced with her. She didn’t see my scars.

We moved to their backyard, watching Anna play in her miniature swing set.

“That little girl is what’s keeping me going right now,” he said.

I rubbed Trevor’s shoulder. I didn’t feel right telling him the loss I felt. Whatever I felt, his pain had to be tenfold.

“How are you doing, Bird?”

“I’m okay.” It took everything I had to choke down the knot that rose all the way up from my stomach.

“I know he would want us to be happy. And I will be one day, but right now I miss him so much.”

“Me too,” I said.

“You were the sister he never had. He loved you so much, Bird.”

The words pushed the knot up so that I couldn’t contain the tears any longer. I felt like I had to confess to Trevor. I had to tell him it was me who put him in an early grave.

“Trevor, I wasn’t nice to him the last time I saw him. God, if I could get that moment back. I would have never let him leave.”

“Don’t do that. Brothers and sisters fight. People who care about each other fight. Shit happens. Jordan got caught in a shit storm. We can’t live our lives with what ifs. There’s too fucking many of them. You know he wasn’t supposed to come down until the next week, but because of a work thing I made him go earlier so he could watch Anna. I could sit here all day asking myself why I did that.”

“You can’t do that to yourself.”

“Exactly, and neither can you.”

I spent the rest of the day watching Netflix with Trevor, teaching Anna some dance steps, and doing my best to learn how to live again. Trevor and I agreed to make this happen often. The next day, I headed back home.

BIRD

When I got back home from San Francisco, I found Ash in the kitchen frantically toiling over several pots and pans.

It was the first time I had felt normal in a while.

“Hello,” I called out over the sounds of the record player and sizzling. He jumped and spun around. He was wearing my ruffled apron and I burst out into laughter.

“That’s great. Just laugh at a man who’s secure enough in his manhood to wear a floral ruffled apron.”

“I’m sorry, it’s hilarious. Though there is something oddly sexy about it . . .”

Maturity looked good on Ash. Of course he was only twenty-six, but wow did twenty-six look good on him. Twenty-one looked good too, but twenty-six was like Ash with sprinkles on top.

“Can I help? I don’t recall you being much of a cook . . .”

“That’s why they invented the internet.”

“Oh, this is going to be baaaaad. How was your mom’s?”

“It was good. It’s still hard. Everyone is trying to be positive and commemorate my father with fun stories, but I missed out on so much. I can’t help but feel like such an asshole.”

I felt for him. I wanted to turn back the clock and give him those years. But what was important was he was letting those thoughts out right away instead of letting them rot him from the inside out.

“I understand. You’re not though. You are one of the most caring people I know.”

He gave me a half-smile. “Everyone is trying so hard to make me feel welcome because they are so afraid I’ll leave again.”

“I know all about that too,” I said.

Ash didn’t reply to that one. I wasn’t trying to throw a jab at him, it was just honesty. Ash had been perfect, but I still had that flicker of doubt that he was capable of disappearing again. I just couldn’t shake that fear.

We sat down to a scrumptious dinner of overcooked pasta and rubbery chick parm. Ironically, it was the most I had eaten in weeks.

I stepped away to the bathroom and when I came out, the record player was on again, playing a song that brought me back to my time with Ash in my small studio. It was the song we first kissed to.

“May I have this dance?” he asked with his arm extended.

I smiled and shook my head as I walked over and gave him my hand. This time it wasn’t two tentative kids working their way up to a kiss. I fit comfortably against him as he rested a hand on my hip and held the other one up and out and we swayed softly, side to side.

I rested my head on his shoulder and took in his scent, the faint lingering of his bergamot and orange body wash. He leaned his cheek against mine, so the scruff of his beard gently scratched my cheek.

We hadn’t done anything other than kiss a few times; there was just too much death surrounding us. I was just trying to survive. But finally I felt desire swell inside of me. I rubbed my free hand up Ash’s chest, his neck and then through his hair, tugging on it as I looked up for my lips to meet his.

He grabbed me and I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me to my oversized windowsill. It was one of my favorite spots in the condo. Just to the side of us was downtown LA, the place that for all its good and bad, brought us together.

“I want you inside of me,” I begged. “That’s all I want to feel.”

He pulled himself out of his jeans. “I could live inside of you,” he said as he pressed his warm body against mine.

BIRD

I COOKED FOR
Ash the next morning, making the works: pancakes, eggs, bacon.

“Holy hell,” he said walking out to the feast in his naked splendor.

“You do realize people in the building across the street can see you,” I said, throwing my apron at him.

“Well, if you insist,” Ash replied, putting it on. He went into the fridge to grab something, showing me his exposed butt, which I promptly slapped.

I was falling in love again. Not again. I never really stopped loving Ash. But this love was deeper, there were roots that were sunken deep into the earth. We had a better understanding of ourselves as people, allowing ourselves to be complete for each other.

“Bird, I have to go back to New York,” Ash said solemnly during breakfast.

My heart skipped. I was skittish. I exposed my soul to Ash all over again and he was going back to his old life. He never said we were a thing. We never committed to each other.

“Oh,” I said.

“Bird. I have to go back, for work. I have some projects I need to finish. I never intended on being in LA for so long.”

“Of course. I understand.”

“But, I don’t want this to end.”

“Me neither,” I said.

I was afraid I was jumping back in too fast. He still twitched and spoke in his sleep. He had just started seeing a therapist again. We lived on opposite ends of the country.

“So how do we do this?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know where I’ll be in a few months.” I said. This time I wasn’t willing to give anything up for anyone.