Our First Love (17 page)

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Authors: Anthony Lamarr

BOOK: Our First Love
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I didn't know who she was, but I'd bet anything that Nigel's new life was with her.

Nigel wasn't home, so I was alone in the dark. Every light in the house was on, but that didn't stop the darkness from creeping inside through these hollow walls and doors.

Am I more afraid of the world outside or the asphyxiating loneliness inside this house?

Nigel had never stayed out overnight, but he went out last night and didn't come home. It was almost noon and he still hadn't made it home. But, I was not going to panic or call the police because he wasn't here by choice.

There goes my life.

SPRING
CHAPTER 17

Could brothers share one life?

One world?

One love?

Spring arrived on time but, after three sprightly days on the job, Nigel decided to take advantage of some unused vacation time. Despite the guest-of-honor's absence, thousands of spectators bundled together to watch the annual Springtime Tallahassee Parade. The normally festive parade languished as local and state government officials waved gloved hands and area TV news personalities coerced smiles through shivering lips and overdressed clowns and mimes tried to mimic with frozen faces. After seeing beauty queen after beauty queen in lavish gowns and knee-length coats riding floats covered in wilted carnations and roses, Forestry Queen Jogie Brown's arrival in a confetti-colored gown with spaghetti straps was met with exuberant cheers. Young and old snatched off their jackets, gloves, hats, and tams and tossed them in the air. The gaiety spread up and down the parade's downtown route, and soon Nigel, Karen, and Caleb, who were standing on a park bench across from the courthouse, hurled their winter garb in the air.

“That felt good,” Nigel said, putting his arm around Karen, pulling her closer to him.

Karen was standing between Nigel and Caleb. Most of the time,
Karen enjoyed their incessant competition for her attention, but today, she was annoyed because their antics were distracting her from the parade.

Caleb leaned over and asked Karen, “I know you've seen your share of parades, but have you ever been in one?”

“No,” she answered. “But I've always wanted to. When I was a little girl, my parents took me to every parade within fifty miles of Orlando. It didn't matter what kind of parade, we were there. I always imagined that I was marching with the lead band or riding on the prettiest float.”

“Well, it's time for you to march in your first parade.” Caleb jumped off the bench, pulling Karen behind him, then ushered her toward the street.

Nigel lamented his decision to bring Karen into their story as he sat on the sofa watching Caleb graft himself into his morning. In Nigel and Caleb's world, a pinch of uncertainty outweighed a ton of happiness. Nigel was overjoyed at seeing Caleb so elated, so alive. But so in love? So in love with Karen? That was entirely different. For fourteen years, Nigel shared his life with Caleb, never expecting a day would come when he would have to share a woman he loved. He didn't think he would ever be in love. Still, Nigel did what he believed he had to do to stop their world from collapsing. He told Caleb about Karen. And as he sat watching Caleb, he wondered if his decision only delayed their ending.

“Where is the Marching 100?” Caleb asked as he stared at the ceiling and imagined he and Karen were watching the parade from the corner of Park Avenue and Monroe Street.

“You saw the entire parade on TV, so you know when…”

“I need you to tell me,” Caleb cut him off. “So…?”

“Tallahassee Memorial's float came next,” Nigel answered dryly.
“It was covered with red and white carnations. A couple of folks dressed as doctors, nurses, and healthy, happy patients rode the float.”

Nigel began second-guessing his decision before the words came out his mouth. It was the day after the Valentine's Ball. Nigel spent the night at Karen's house, but he was up at sunrise and kissing her goodbye a few minutes later. He hurried home, recognizing the sobering fact that he would have to explain where he had been and what he was doing to Caleb. He drove around for hours contemplating what he would say to Caleb. It was the first time since moving to Tallahassee that he had been away from home overnight. And, although it had been weeks since Caleb even spoke to him or they were even together in the same room, Nigel was sure Caleb fretted as he sat in the black recliner by the window waiting for him. It was early afternoon when Nigel put on the right blinker, turned in the driveway, and saw Caleb sitting by the window.

Caleb spent most of the day planning and preparing for life without Nigel. He wasn't afraid. He didn't need Nigel. At least that's what he repeatedly told himself until he was convinced he really didn't. He was determined to be his own man. To stand on his own feet. To live his own life. But as soon as he saw the Lexus turn into the driveway, the thought of a life without his brother became unbearable. Debilitating. Like dying. For the second time that Caleb knew of, his tears induced a tempest and a cresting wave raced behind him as he hastened to his bedroom.

Nigel saw the dejected look on his brother's face before Caleb ran from the window. It took nearly ten minutes for Nigel to turn the key and unlock the front door and five more minutes to turn the doorknob. Anguish surged out the doorway like a tsunami
and soaked him. Drowned him. Nigel panicked. He dived inside and shoved the door closed. He threw his keys and jacket on the floor as he bolted toward Caleb's bedroom.

“Caleb!” Nigel turned the doorknob, but the door was locked. “Caleb!”

Inside, Caleb sat on the floor with his back against the door. “Leave me alone,” he cried.

“Open the door, Caleb.”

“Get the hell out of here, Nigel. You don't have to force yourself to stay because you feel sorry for me.”

“Caleb, please open the door.”

“Save your pity for someone who deserves it. You didn't do this to me, so you're off the hook.” Caleb's tears turned caustic. “Don't worry about me, Nigel. I'll be out of your way soon. Real soon.”

“Shut up!” Nigel kicked the door. “Shut up!” He kicked the door again and again. The lock conceded and the door slammed into Caleb, knocking him over. “Don't you ever say that again! Don't even think it!” Nigel stood in the doorway. “Listen, Caleb. I'm not here out of pity. I'm here because you're my brother.” Staring into his brother's eyes, Nigel made the regrettable decision…to bring her into their life. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to keep her a secret. Her name's Karen.” His confession disarmed Caleb.

“Karen?”

“Karen Davis,” Nigel responded. “We met her…”

Caleb's eyes gleamed as he recalled meeting Karen at a cemetery on a rainy day last June.

Nine months later, on a frigid spring morning, Nigel tiptoed on a park bench and tried to catch a glimpse of Caleb holding Karen's hand as the two of them strutted alongside the Marching 100 in the Springtime Tallahassee Parade.

CHAPTER 18
NIGEL

I had survived, albeit barely, a constant barrage of loaded questions from Caleb since that Saturday after the Valentine's Ball.

“Yesterday, a woman walked in during the middle of our lecture,” Caleb recalled the afternoon I was forced to bring her into our story. “She was wearing a blue skirt and jacket. Was that her?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“I got a good look at her, and she's a Halle.” A spark ignited in his eyes. “Were you with her last night?”

I nodded yes.

“So you're telling me we spent the night with her? Her?”

“Yes, but…”

“Where?”

“At her house.”

Then the question that he'd asked daily for the past month arrived. “Have we…?”

“No,” I snapped. “No we haven't! And I don't care if you don't believe me.”

“Why wouldn't I?” Caleb asked with a wry grin.

I saw a light—a fiery beacon of possibilities—in Karen's eyes, and I was gluttonously drawn to it.

“Good love,” Karen replied as we recovered from an impromptu
late afternoon tryst in her bedroom. “I wanted to know what good love felt like.”

“What do you mean, good love?”

“When we met, I already knew you were a man with high morals. Remember, you quit your job to preserve another person's dignity. You're caring and you live by principles, which means you would love a woman like she should be loved.” Karen gently pressed her body against mine. “There's still a lot that I don't know about you. But I know that your feelings are sincere. And your love is good.”

“Is that the only reason you…?”

I think she sensed my quandary.

Karen leaned over and propped up on my chest. “Don't get the big head, but you're kinda cute, too.”

“Cute?”

She whispered in my ear, “Cute in a stallion, you know, stud kind of way.” Her tongue glided across my earlobe and then down my neck. “And you taste good. Really, really good.”

“Don't,” I begged. “Ooohh. Don't do that. I have to go. I can't. Damn. It's getting late.”

“It's only 7:30.”

“I know, but…”

“Don't,” she stopped me. “You don't have to.” She rolled over to her side of the bed.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” I said.

She acknowledged with an insipid smile.

I sat up on the edge of the bed. I was about to stand, when suddenly, I found the courage to ask Karen another long-simmering question. “How come you never ask about my life away from work and here?”

Karen didn't respond, so I turned around and looked at her. She
sat up, gazed into my eyes, and said, “I know you're living two lives, and I know that your other life has nothing to do with loving another woman.”

“How did you…?”

“By looking at you,” she answered. “I saw it the day after we met. Remember? You stopped by my office with brunch.”

I was finally ready to let her know me. Know my life. “Well, aren't you a little curious…?”

“I'm extremely curious. I'm talking dying-to-know curious.”

“Then why do you always stop me whenever I try to talk about my personal life?”

“Honestly?”

“Please.”

“Because I love you, Nigel.”

I'm alive. I'm alive.

“I see you,” she revealed, “and I feel the sadness you live with. You do your best to conceal it, but it's so ingrained in you that you can't. I see it. I feel it. And sometimes it scares me.”

“Scares you?” I asked. “Why?”

“Because I don't know how to help you,” Karen answered. “But don't worry. It scares me, but not enough to make me stop loving you. Like I said…” She wrapped her arms around me. “Your love is good.”

I'm going to live forever.

I was so blissfully inebriated that Karen had to help me put on my clothes. When she finished dressing me, she kissed me goodbye, then sent me home to my other life.

She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me.

I was a chassis—a man with no heart, no spirit, nothing inside—when I was not with her. But I couldn't be with her too much; the more time I spent with Karen, the more Caleb expected to participate in and hear about our relationship. Lately, when we discussed our day, he fast forwarded through the majority of it. He was only interested in hearing about the time I spent with Karen. Usually, I told him as much as I could without divulging anything about our intimate moments. As I recapped my day, Caleb joined Karen and me for lunch, dinner, movies, walks across campus, and even a few content-edited quiet moments. After he was done making my day his, he always asked in an obviously suspicious tone if we had sex with Karen. My answer was always no. I couldn't and I wouldn't ever tell him that Karen and I make love two, maybe three times a week. I refused to share that part of her.

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