No Regrets (14 page)

Maybe I would have grabbed him after all. I really don’t know.

His phone rang again, though, breaking into the feeling shuddering between us. With a frown, he reached for it once more, and his expression changed when he looked at it.

“It’s my brother again,” he muttered, glancing over at me. “I better take it.”

“Okay. Sure.”

He never talked about his brother. Or any of his family except his mother. I figured he was worried that his brother was calling twice in such close proximity.

I leaned against the counter and tried to get myself back under control as he connected the call and walked toward the living area.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

I didn’t intentionally eavesdrop, but his apartment had an open concept, and there was no way not to hear.

Whatever his brother told him had a profound effect on Josh’s face and posture.

I saw it happen. His body grew perfectly still, as if he had frozen, and his face lost all expression.

I was sudden scared. Scared at what Josh was hearing on the other side of the call.

“What happened?” he asked after a long pause. His voice broke on the last word, and he cleared his throat. “What happened?”

The repeated question caused my throat to close up, and I walked around the peninsula into the living area where he was standing.

He listened for a long time, still frozen in place. I heard the murmur of the voice on the call, but I couldn’t understand anything that was said.

But Josh’s empty face and stiff body were terrifying, heartbreaking.

“Okay,” he said at last, after what felt like a very long time. “Okay. I’ll get the first flight out there. I’ll let you know when to expect me.”

He disconnected and stood there, staring down at his phone.

“Josh, what happened?” I asked, stepping over and putting a hand on his arm.

He lifted his head and stared at me blankly, as if his eyes didn’t fully process who I was.

“What happened?” I whispered.

He cleared his throat and took a couple of steps over until he could lower himself slowly into the chair.

I hurried over and sank to my knees in front of him.

“Josh, tell me.”

“My…my mother died.”

“Oh, my God.” I could hardly breathe around the shock, concern, and dismay. I reached out to take the phone out of his hands, and then I held both of his hands with mine. There was no expression at all on his face. He wasn’t even trembling. But he still seemed broken in an inexplicable way, and I had no way to answer it.

“It was a heart attack. Totally out of the blue.”

“Oh, my God,” I said again. I had no idea what to say. No idea what to do. “Is there anyone I can…I can call?”

He raised his eyes to stare at me blankly again.

“I mean, is there anyone you want to come be with you right now? For support or whatever. A friend?”

He just kept staring at me, and I realized the answer.

His no-strings philosophy—his emotional protection—applied to all relationships.

No wife. No girlfriend. No pet.

No real friends.

Nothing beyond the casual.

So there was no one I could call, no one who was closer to him than me.

Than
me
.

“I need to…get a flight to Phoenix.” He started to get up, but I put my hands on his knees to stop him.

“I’ll do it. I’ll look for flights for you.”

I went to get him a bottle of water, and then I started to search flight schedules on my phone.

“It’s too late for the last flight tonight,” I said, when I’d pulled up the options, “but there’s one that leaves at six tomorrow morning. It connects through Dallas and arrives at around 9:30 Phoenix time. It looks like there are still seats available. Is that one good?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat yet again, still evidently unable to move. “Thanks.”

I put my phone down and got on my knees in front of him again. “Josh, are you going to be okay?”

He stared at me again and finally nodded.

“Do you want me to come with you?” When he blinked, I added quickly, “Just as a friend, I mean. I can come with you. If you want.”

If I’d thought about it, I never would have made the offer. If I’d thought about it, I would have assumed he’d tell me an immediate “no.”

But he just stared some more, as if he were trying to get his mind to work. And then he finally said, very hoarsely, “Okay. Thank you.”

We flew to Phoenix the following morning.

I’d gone home the night before to pack and make arrangements with work. Since his mother’s funeral was scheduled for Saturday afternoon, I could come back on Sunday and just miss one day of work. I was worried about leaving Josh, but he told me I should go home for the night, so I didn’t really have a choice.

I came over to pick him up early the following morning. He seemed to have pulled himself together—so he wasn’t as blank and frozen as he’d been the previous evening. He wore khakis and a crew neck shirt, and he looked attractive and masculine with his broad shoulders and long legs as he got into the passenger seat of my car. He even gave me a smile.

But I was worried about him.

He didn’t talk very much on the drive, at the airports, or on the flights, but I was glad I was there. I could do things like order our food and sign for the rental car at the Phoenix airport. I tried to read on the flights, but couldn’t focus very well. Josh closed his eyes, but I knew he wasn’t asleep.

I wondered why he’d agreed to have me go with him. I wondered why I’d even volunteered.

Josh’s parents lived—now just his dad—in a retirement community outside of Phoenix. It was just a two-bedroom place, and his sister and her family were already staying there, so I’d reserved us a hotel room nearby.

It was too early in the day for our hotel room to be ready, so I drove right to the house.

There were a number of cars out front. I parked on the curb, farther down the street, and then took the key out of the ignition.

Josh hadn’t even taken off his seatbelt, and I sat and watched him without speaking.

I wanted to comfort him somehow, but I didn’t know how. I was pretty sure I wasn’t even allowed.

“Are you ready?” I asked at last, my voice slightly hoarse. It felt like a long time since I’d said anything.

“Yeah.” He took off his seatbelt and shifted in his seat. “Thanks for doing this. I know it might be awkward. Being dumped into the middle of my family like this.”

“It’s fine. I know how it is. I’m glad I could come. I feel like…” I trailed off, unsure of how he would react to what I’d been about to say.

His eyes rested on my face. “You feel like what?”

“I feel like you need someone with you.”

He gave a strange little nod—maybe in agreement or maybe just to acknowledge I’d said something—and then he got out of the car. I climbed out too, and we walked to the front door.

He tried the knob without knocking, and it was open, so we just walked in.

The first person to see us was a woman who looked around my age. She had brown hair and blue eyes just like Josh. She’d been carrying an empty water bottle, but she put it down on a side table as soon as she saw us and came over to hug Josh.

She was crying a little as he returned the hug, and I thought Josh seemed rather stiff. He didn’t pull away, though. I figured it was his sister.

“I’m Jane,” she said, when she finally drew back and turned toward me. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “His sister.”

“This is Leslie,” Josh said simply. He didn’t add any explanation or definition of my relationship to him, and his sister didn’t ask. She just came over to give me a hug too.

Now, I’m happy to hug my family and my friends, and I certainly wouldn’t have said no to a hug from Josh. But I’m not big on hugging strangers, so I felt a bit uncomfortable at her obvious emotion and enthusiastic welcome.

I made sure not to show it, though. I told her it was good to meet her, and then we came further into the living room for more introductions.

There were a lot of people in the small house. In addition to Josh’s dad and sister, there were her entire family, which included four children, his brother and his brother’s wife, Josh’s grandmother and two of his aunts, and then a couple of neighbors. I did my best to remember names and relationships, but it was an awful lot of new people to keep straight.

Everyone seemed glad to see Josh, and I could see they were curious about me. But nobody asked, and he never clarified my relationship to him.

I figured that was probably the easiest thing to do. They’d think we were a couple, but it was simpler to let them think that than explain that Josh and I had a casual, no-strings-attached, sex thing going on.

The day was long and kind of disorienting. There was a lot of sitting around. And there was a lot of eating, since people kept bringing over food. And there was a lot of talking and crying—although not from either Josh or me.

He spoke whenever he was spoken to, and his composed demeanor never broke. But he wasn’t himself. I knew very well that he wasn’t himself.

Late in the afternoon, Josh volunteered to go to the store, since his sister wanted paper plates and utensils so they wouldn’t have to keep running the dishwasher. I’d been trying to make small talk with his aunt, who kept asking if we were going to buy a house soon and if we were going to have any kids—and I wasn’t getting any younger so we really should get started on that. But Josh gestured at me with his head, and I sighed with relief to make an escape for a little while.

“We can get their plates and stuff and bring them back. Then we should go ahead and check into the hotel so we can change for the viewing this evening,” he said, putting a hand on my back as we went down the front steps.

“Sounds good.”

I figured he’d needed to make an escape as much as I did, and this was verified when he collapsed in the passenger seat with a low groan.

“You making it?” I tried to sound light, so he wouldn’t think I was hovering.

“Yeah.” He kept his eyes closed as I started to drive. “Thanks for putting up with all of this. Was Aunt Sylvie asking you about kids?”

“Yeah. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know, so we really need to buckle down and start having them.”

He gave a soft chuckle. It was the first time I’d heard him laugh since last night, and the sound of it relieved me a little. “Sorry about that. What did you tell her?”

“I just kept saying we were playing it by ear. I know she thinks we’re…we’re…a couple, but I thought it would be easier not to try to explain things.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought too.”

I glanced at him and decided he was telling the truth, and he didn’t care if his family thought that he and I were in a serious relationship.

We went to the store to pick the stuff up, went back to the house to drop it off, and then left soon afterwards to check in at the hotel and change clothes.

The viewing was early in the evening, and then we all piled back in the house for dinner. I was exhausted by the time it was over, and I was getting worried that Josh was so quiet and matter-of-fact.

It wasn’t like I expected him to have his normal verbal skill or charisma, but his composure seemed unnatural, somehow, like it was holding back too much.

He didn’t tell stories or share memories of his mother, the way everyone else did. And he never even teared up.

I was exhausted by the time we finally headed back to the hotel for the night. It was after ten, and I’d gotten up at four Kentucky time.

I changed clothes and got right into bed, but Josh went to take a shower first.

It was a room with one king-sized bed. The only light left on was the one next to his side of the bed. He came out wearing a pair of boxers and climbed in beside me.

I rolled onto my side to face him. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

It was a stupid question and a stupid answer, but that’s what people do.

He was on his back with his head turned toward me. I could hear him breathing.

“When was the last time you saw your mom?” I asked, something compelling me to speak, even though I knew he’d rather I not.

He let out a strange, little exhale. “The Christmas before last.”

“Oh. Did you talk to her much?”

“She called every Saturday morning. Always at ten o’clock.”

“That’s good,” I said, emotion tightening in my throat again. “I mean, it’s good that you talked to her every week.”

“Yeah.” He turned his head to stare at the ceiling in the dark room. “I almost never called her.”

“Well, if she called every week, then you didn’t really have to.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t hang up on her or cut the conversation short, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“A lot of people don’t talk to their moms every week. I’m sure the fact that you did meant something to her.” I paused, reflecting, since he still felt like suppressed emotion was brewing inside him.

“We played chess.”

“What do you mean?”

“She taught us all how to play chess when we were kids, but I was the only one who liked it. We always had a game going. We’d play by emailing each other moves every day.”

I was so touched by the thought that I lifted a hand to my chest. “You kept it up all the time? Through now, I mean?”

“Yeah. I sent her my last move two days ago. She never had the chance to reply.” His voice broke on the last word.

“Oh, my God, Josh,” I murmured.

“She wanted me to come out a few months ago, for my dad’s birthday. But it wasn’t that long after I moved to Lexington, and I told her I couldn’t make it.”

“I’m sure she understood.”

“I should have gone. I could have taken the time.”

“You can’t beat yourself up about it, Josh.”

“Why not? I could have done better. I should have done better.”

I felt so bad for him that I scooted over until I was right at his side. I put a hand on his chest. “We all could do better. All the time. You did the best you could.”

“See, but that’s the thing.” His voice had gotten hoarser as he spoke, although his face still conveyed no emotion. “I didn’t do the best I could.”

I had no idea what to say to that. I knew what he meant, though. He’d been cutting himself off from intimacy of all kinds, and that evidently included closeness with his own family.

In lieu of any comforting words, I just stroked his bare chest slowly, sliding my hand along the rippling muscles, the ridges of his ribs, the scattering of coarse hair, the flat planes of his belly.

Neither of us said anything else, and it was a long time before either of us slept.

***

The next morning we went back to the house for more awkward sitting, talking, and passing around food. Then it was the funeral and graveside service. And then back to the house.

Josh wasn’t any more open or demonstrative today. He didn’t break down at the funeral or the graveside. He nodded when other people spoke, but he didn’t talk about his mother at all.

Occasionally, I saw Jane or his father looking at him, checking his expression. I didn’t know if it was from concern or confusion, though.

After dinner, I was cleaning up in the kitchen—mostly for something to do—when Jane came to join me.

She picked up the casserole pan I’d just washed and started to dry it.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, giving me a little smile.

My eyes widened as I scrubbed at another pot. “Sure. Of course.”

“I’m glad Josh has you.”

I felt awkward again. Embarrassed. And strangely empty. But I just murmured, “Yeah. Thanks.”

“When we were kids, he never seemed to have the normal barriers around his heart that most people have. He would cry over dogs he saw hit on the side of the road and commercials about starving children. Other boys would tease him all the time, because he was so sensitive, but it took a long time for him to toughen up.”

I thought about Josh as a little boy. A sensitive, little, blue-eyed boy who hurt with all the suffering in the world.

“His girlfriend in college was into social activism, and she got him involved in all kinds of causes. They went to Africa two summers in a row to volunteer with NGO’s, but she decided against it as a career during her senior year. But, by then, Josh had already set his heart on it, and there was no way to change his mind. I guess he’s probably told you all this.”

He hadn’t told me much. Of anything. I said, “He doesn’t like to talk about it a lot.”

“I know. He’s been really distant since he came home from Africa. You know what happened, right? There was that massacre he saw—I can’t even imagine. And then everything kept getting to him until he couldn’t handle it anymore. He was really emotionally damaged.”

“I know he was.”

“Is he doing better, do you think?” Jane’s eyes were anxious as they searched my face. “For the last few years, he’s been pulling away from everyone who loves him, and he won’t let himself get close to anyone.”

“He’s still working through things,” I said carefully, not wanting to lie, but also not wanting to share things that were private to Josh. “I think he’s doing better.”

“I didn’t even know he was in a relationship. I didn’t think he would let himself yet.” Jane smiled as she set the pan inside a larger one on the counter. “I’m so glad he’s with you.”