Something Like Rain (Something Like... Book 8) (14 page)

When they reached the house, he went to the kitchen table where family meetings always took place. He wished, not for the first time, that his brothers still lived at home so he wouldn’t have to face this alone. His mother fetched his usual after-school snack—a glass of milk and whatever she had baked. Brownies this time. The gesture seemed pointless, because it didn’t make him feel better about the situation. On the other hand, it did reassure him of her love. The situation couldn’t be easy on her, and yet she was still thinking of him.

Kate sat on the opposite side of the table, hands flat on the surface, fingers trembling regardless. “We have some difficult things to discuss,” she began.

“Where’s Dad? Shouldn’t we wait for him?”

“No. You’re not quite an adult, but you’re old enough to understand the complexities of relationships. You even have your own now, and I’m sure you and Kelly sometimes don’t get along.”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “I understand. Don’t worry. You don’t need to explain anything to me. Really.”

This didn’t seem to comfort his mother much. “I’m sure you’ve noticed your father behaving differently lately and—”

“Mid-life crisis,” William said, almost feeling upbeat. This was easier than he had expected! “I agree it’s weird, and it’s obviously driving you nuts. You guys are going to take a break, and he’ll get it all out of his system. Then things will go back to normal.”

“I’m afraid this goes beyond your father wanting to feel young again. Or maybe it doesn’t. I don’t know.” Kate sighed, one of her hands sliding over to cover the other. “Your father has been seeing someone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has a girlfriend.”

The idea was ridiculous. His father, going on dates and doing romantic things with someone other than his mother? Impossible! “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“An affair?”

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were red in an effort to hold back tears but a few broke free. “I’m sorry that you have to hear any of this, but it’s important you understand that this wasn’t about that silly car or your father not wanting to get old. I could have handled that, but another woman… She’s nineteen years old!” Kate shook her head. “I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

William felt repulsed. And angry. “When does he get home?”

“He’s not coming home.”

“Good!” William stood up from the table, jaw clenching. “I don’t want him here anymore.”

“Honey,” his mother said gently, “he’s still your father. I want you to have a relationship with him.”

“No! I don’t ever want to see him again!”

“You will,” Kate said, tone firm. “It’s okay that you’re angry now. I am too. But our marriage failing doesn’t change the fact that you’re his son. He loves you.”

“If he loved me, he wouldn’t have—” William’s voice cracked. Without a target for his anger, the emotion had shifted to sorrow. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“It’s not your fault, baby.” She stood and walked around the table to give him a hug. “We both love you. I’m sorry this upsets you. I wish I could protect you from it all. I really do.”

William hugged her back, knowing that she had gotten it wrong. She needed protecting, not him. He would do everything in his power to make certain she wouldn’t be hurt. Not after today. How? He wasn’t sure, but he already knew that his father would never be welcomed into their lives again.

* * * * *

I thought I knew you.

William paced his room, phone in one hand. He had tried calling his father, intending to demand an explanation, wanting to give him a chance before William shut him out of his life forever. Lewis hadn’t answered his phone, or responded to the voicemail messages, which William had kept short. “We need to talk,” or “Call me back. It’s important.” While he waited for a response, his feverish mind went over every detail he had pried out of his mother. She had been unwilling to tell him much, but she was hurt and needed someone to confide in. She spoke of how she had followed her husband after work, how he had picked up a waitress from Hooters, a restaurant chain famous for its busty and flirtatious employees. She had watched her husband stand next to his convertible and—top down—lift a woman to swing her around, placing her carefully in the passenger seat. Then he had trotted proudly around the front of the car, leaping into the driver seat and leaning over for a kiss. That’s when Kate had pressed the horn of her own car, holding it down even after shock had separated them and the two passengers had turned to look at her—one appearing puzzled, the other guilty.

William struggled to reconcile the image of his father with this high-energy Romeo. The exercise wasn’t impossible. William had seen his parents being romantic with each other: little kisses, embraces, and weekend dates. None of these demonstrations were quite so passionate though. He also struggled to imagine anyone but his mother being attracted to Lewis. Not that William didn’t like him. His father had carved a pumpkin with him every Halloween or snuck off with him to a parking lot to set off fireworks on the Fourth of July. He was always there Christmas morning. His father would yawn and watch the proceedings, smiling occasionally and guessing what his presents were before he opened them. William still didn’t understand how. Most of his memories of his father centered around special occasions. Lewis cut the ham during Easter dinner or served slices of turkey on Thanksgiving. His father’s presence and participation helped make those holidays special.

During the rest of the year William’s mother took care of everything, kissing cuts, taking him shopping for clothes, lecturing him when his grades slipped at school, doing his laundry, telling him to sit up straight, and making sure he went outside for sun and exercise when he’d rather stay home and watch TV. His father’s role was more glamorous: the guy who made special guest appearances every holiday, or played tour guide on family vacations. Lewis had always seemed so cool, but when William considered it all, his father had the easiest role. Kate had taught William to read and count. Learning to ride a bike? Not nearly as important. His mother had raised him. His father had merely supported him.

Despite this conclusion, William couldn’t hate him. He tried his best anyway, drawing a line between the authority figure of his childhood and the stranger who had appeared in recent years. Two different people. One he had loved. That man was dead. The other William never wanted to see again, and so he returned to the text message he had started.

I thought I knew you.

Goodbye. I hate you. Fuck off and die! So many ways he could finish it, but he kept thinking of thrusting his hand into a pumpkin to pull out a fistful of slimy seeds, his father chuckling and appearing proud. William deleted the text message, arm falling limp at his side.

The worst part is that she stayed. Despite the betrayal, his mother had tried to make it work. Lewis had been caught with another woman—this girl—more than a month ago. Around the time William’s mother had sat him down and warned him that he might face a difficult choice. Nothing had happened then because Kate chose to stay. He couldn’t help wondering if that was his fault, if she had attempted to reconcile things because of William’s feelings. She should have left Lewis right then and there, but instead she had quietly suffered, and from what he understood, his father had only pretended to call off his affair.

He was reminded of when Lily’s mother had a short affair with one of her clients and had confided in her daughter, for some inconceivable reason. As for Holly, her parents had gotten divorced some years back, keeping the reason from their child. He didn’t have to think hard to find other examples of broken families. Few of his classmates made their relationships last longer than a month or two. Maybe having kids and the benefits of a dual-income household kept some couples together for longer, but relationships never seemed to last. He thought of Abby declaring herself an atheist and insisting that people should believe only in things that could be proven. What proof was there of love? Mutual attraction and social bonds, yes, but love itself? Maybe it was just a lie.

He raised the phone in his hand, needing to know the truth and hating the idea of being right. He sent a text message, this time to a different recipient, too upset to bother with capitalization or punctuation.

i need to see you

Seconds later, Kelly replied.
Okay.
Where?

can I come over?

He knew it was late. Past midnight. It would be even later once he made the drive, but only if he was invited. He held his breath, realizing this might be the answer he sought. If Kelly said no, turned him away now, then William was done believing in love.

Okay. Drive safe.

William exhaled. Then he put on his shoes and slipped out into the night.

* * * * *

Cool air, heavy shadows, and a long lawn—tidy and maintained all the way to the stone patio. William stared at the back of the house, no longer trusting appearances. What he saw was a stately home with everything in order. Mr. and Mrs. Phillips were no doubt asleep in the same bed, but how many secrets did they keep from each other? From their children? William was seated on a swing, part of a jungle gym for children, but he remained stationary, hands gripping the chains despite the biting cold of the metal. Kelly had escorted him here where they could talk without disturbing anyone. He eyed William before taking a seat in the swing next to his, silent and awaiting an explanation. William was unable to look at his boyfriend for long, not trusting his own treacherous feelings.

“They’re getting a divorce.” William said, jaw wanting to snap shut around the words. “My dad’s been cheating.”

“Oh shit,” Kelly whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” William snarled. “He’s the one who needed some woman—some
girl
nearly my age—to make him feel young again. It’s fucking pathetic! He didn’t even have the guts to face me. He and my mom were supposed to talk it over with me after school. Remember what I heard this morning? How I should have a choice? I don’t think my dad wants to be reminded that he has kids. I wouldn’t want to live with him anyway. I hate him!”

This booming declaration sounded powerful, despite being false. His eyes burned as he looked at the house again, expecting lights to flick on. Then he turned his head away, willing himself not to cry.

Kelly’s response was gentle. “All you can do is be there for your mom.”

“Yeah. I won’t abandon her. And if my father thinks we’re selling the house, he can forget it! He’s not a part of this family anymore.”

“Has there been talk about any of that?”

William’s breath was visible when he exhaled. “I don’t know. My mom kept saying I shouldn’t worry about it. She put on a brave face, which only made me more pissed at him. How could he do this to us?”

“I don’t know,” Kelly said. “I really don’t.”

William felt a hand touch his own, warm and reassuring, but he pulled away, not wanting to be deceived. He stood, needing to put distance between himself and Kelly.

He heard footsteps on the grass, trailing behind. “What’s going on?”

William stopped but didn’t turn around. “Don’t you get it? My parents used to love each other. You never got to see it, but they were always kissing and saying romantic stuff, even though my brothers and I acted like it was gross. But it wasn’t. My dad made my mom laugh when she was in a bad mood, and she always took care of him. Just look at them now! Hell, look at your own parents because mine weren’t so different once. And look at us, because even though everything is new, this is our future too. No one thinks of that when first starting out, but it happens. More often than not, relationships fall apart.”

When the response came, Kelly’s voice was just behind him. “I won’t let that happen to us. No matter what.”

William turned around, hating the idea that their story would be the same. No matter how much they loved each other, someday they would fall apart, their once-invincible feelings faded and broken. “I don’t want to be like them!”

He grabbed Kelly, clutching him close, needing the fleeting comfort. He held on as tight as he could, hoping to stave off the inevitable.

“Stay the night,” Kelly murmured.

William released him and took a step back. He wanted to. William had thought about sharing a bed with Kelly more times than he could count, but he had held out, wanting to be certain of love. Now, more than ever, he was
un
certain. Love was either real, or they were deluding themselves. Either way, he wouldn’t deny himself the benefits any longer.

Kelly took his hand, leading him toward the house. “We have to be quiet. Even once we’re in my room.”

They tiptoed through a dim dining area, the only light coming from kitchen appliances on the other side of the breakfast bar. Kelly still held his hand, even as they navigated the living room and made their way upstairs. Only once in his room did Kelly let go to quietly shut the door behind them. Then he turned, his expression concerned instead of lustful.

“Are you hungry?” Kelly asked. “Or thirsty? We have—”

William silenced him with a kiss. His lips took over, long since familiar with this game, while the rest of him focused on Kelly’s body. He pressed his own against it, finished with mysteries. Let Kelly feel how hard he was. William intended to take just as much in return, his hands groping the thin muscles beneath Kelly’s shirt. He was tired of clothing separating them. He reached over to turn out the light, then backed up, taking Kelly with him until his legs hit the bed. William sat, nearly eye level with Kelly’s crotch. He ripped at the belt, eager to claim his prize.