Page 20 of Heart Strain

8

Jameson

Holden is sitting next to his brother, holding his hand and talking softly. He recounts story after story of their youth, and as much as it’s interesting to hear about their life from Holden’s perspective, it’s kind of nice that he’s willing to talk so freely in front of me. The memories he’s sharing are theirs and I wouldn’t want to intrude, but when I tried to leave yesterday to give them some alone time, he told me to stay.

At least listening to the stories of their childhood keeps my own guilt at bay. Instead of focusing on Drix’s broken body lying so still in the bed, or the low hum and tiny beeps of the machines attached to him, I zero in on the soft cadence of Holden’s voice and the way their hands look clasped together. Holden holds his brother’s hand in his own so gently, rhymically running his thumb across his knuckles. I can’t help but notice how, even though they’re identical twins, their life choices have made certain things about them distinct. Drix works out hard, always has, and his hands are large and strong. They look as capable of lifting heavy weight as they actually are. Holden’s hands in contrast are long and elegant. Equal in length, but that’s where the similarities end. He has the hands of a surgeon.

“Hey, I’m going to run to the bathroom really quick,” Holden says. He stands before letting his brother go, making my chest clog with emotion at the way he delicately sets his brother’s hand back upon the bed. I’m not sure if he was telling Drix or me, but I scoot all the way back in my seat so he can squeeze past me to cross to the small bathroom in the corner. His legs brush my knees as he walks by, and I glance up at him. He gives me a slight grin, trying to hide the pain that’s etched into every line of his face.

Before he’s totally out of my space, I grab his hand, stopping him. “It’s okay to be upset, Holden. You don’t have to put on a brave face for me. Seeing him like this… it’s hard, and it hurts. We don’t have to act like it doesn’t for each other, okay?”

He squeezes my hand back without a word and moves toward the bathroom with long, heavy steps. I’m sure he does have to go—we’ve been here all morning—however, I know what a reprieve it is to step away from the bed and the man who lies so silently in it. The stench of antibacterial cleaners and bleach that overwhelm the senses as soon as you enter the hospital doors aren’t escapable, but behind any door, away from this bed, it’s possible to pretend for a moment that Drix is napping and not fighting for his life.

Standing up, I lift Drix’s hand myself, and settle into the chair Holden just vacated. “Hey, buddy. This is getting a little crazy. You’re not usually the one who plays the sympathy card for attention. It’s kinda freaking us out here. I know you can’t see your brother right now since you can’t open your eyes, but if you could, you’d fight a little harder.” I keep my voice soft so Holden won’t hear. In no way am I disrespecting Drix. This is our way, though. With all the bullshit in my life, and Drix feeling like he didn’t lose only his parents, but Holden as well in a way, we promised to always keep it one hundred percent real with each other. “It’s okay, Drix, if you need to rest a little longer, that’s cool; you do you. I’m going to get your brother out of here for a while, though. I think you’d want me to do that. Take care of him for you. I’ve been making sure he eats, and yesterday, he helped me through this a little. We went and picked out kittens.” I chuckle, already able to hear him busting my balls when he finally wakes the fuck up. “Wait until you see them. You’re going to spoil them more than I do, I bet. Anyway, the doctors said us sitting here and talking to you will help you push through to come back to us, and I believe that. The only problem is, at the rate he’s going, Holden’s starting to become a zombie. You’re going to need him when you wake up, so I’m going to take him out and help him release some steam. Recharge a little.”

When I hear the bathroom door open back up, I stand and lean over to press a kiss to Drix’s forehead. Not that it’s something I’d normally do, but I need the connection to him. The most important thing to me right now is for him to know what’s in my heart in case he’s hearing us. “I love you, man. I’m so sorry I let this happen to you,” I whisper in his ear before I stand all the way up to face Holden. “Come tell your brother goodbye for the afternoon. We’ll grab lunch and then I have a surprise for you.”

He regards me warily. The Holden who took me to pick out kittens, and the Holden who’s having to face his brother’s mortality are complete opposites. Yesterday afternoon he was vibrant, full of life. His love for animals—even cats—emanated out of him. It was obvious that he’d truly answered his life calling being a vet. This Holden is broken. His shoulders sag under the crushing weight of the doctors still thinking his brother needs to be in a coma, probably concerned that he won’t wake up when they take him out, and he’ll be left with no family at all. He can’t hide the fear in his eyes that he may never speak to him again. Even his skin pales the minute we get close to the hospital. He needs another mental health break today, and honestly, maybe I do, too.

“I don’t know,” he says as he walks around to the other side of the bed and pushes his hand through Drix’s hair with his fingertips. “I know we have to leave and eat and take out Peanut, but maybe we should stay around today. We were gone for a long time yesterday picking out your new babies and shopping for them. They could be ready to go as early as tomorrow and we’ll have to be gone again.”

“You’re going to go with me to pick them up?” I ask hopefully.

Holden glances up quickly from his study of his brother’s face to give me that slight grin again. “Of course. I’m not going to leave you on your own. We have to pick them up and take them to your place. Then we won’t want to abandon them right away, so we should probably stay there at least long enough to eat and watch a movie before we come back. Let them acclimate to you and their new environment. I don’t know”—he shrugs—“maybe it’s a twin thing or something, but I feel like he needs me today.”

Not wanting to upset him, especially not right now when the guilt will consume him, I fight back the urge to ask him why his twin intuition hadn’t told him a million times over the years that his brother desperately wanted him to come home. It’s none of my business, anyway. It’s hard to reconcile the man who moved away with the brother who’s been sharing all of his favorite memories—there’s no mistaking how much he loves Drix. “Okay, so we’ll only leave for a couple of hours. I know exactly where I’m taking you.” Making a big show of lifting my arm so I can check the time on my watch, I continue, “And if we leave in exactly five minutes, we’ll have just enough time to walk Peanut and get there when the doors open. Plus, we can eat there. Come on. A couple hours will do us both a world of good.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me for several long minutes before he leans down and kisses Drix’s forehead and whispers in his ear, exactly like I had. I hope Drix can feel how tremendously important he is to us.

* * *

“The skating rink?”Holden asks incredulously.

“Yep.” I can’t control the belly laugh that rolls out when his nose squishes up. “Is that your impersonation of a disgruntled puppy?”

“Hush.” For the first time today, I hear the undertones of a giggle in his voice. “When you said we had to hurry and walk Peanut so we could get our groove on, this isn’t what I was picturing.”

After parking the car, I ask him curiously, “What were you expecting?”

He huffs a short breath. “I thought we were going to the gym. Believe me, this is way better as far as I’m concerned.”

We both exit the car, and as we’re walking toward the building, I explain myself. “I know the gym isn’t your thing, and right now, I’m hesitant to go myself.” His face grows sympathetic, so I hurriedly continue on. This excursion is to relieve anxiety, thinking about my gym partner lying in a hospital bed won’t accomplish that. “Running in the middle of the day didn’t sound like a good time to me.” His sympathy turns to mirth as he rolls his eyes at me since it’s totally his thing. “But we both need to expend some energy. Wait.” I stop short right in the middle of the parking lot, causing Holden to bump into my shoulder and stop, too. “How did you get the gym out of getting our groove on?”

Finally, he bursts out laughing, and of course, my dick swells. There’s something about the way his eyes twinkle and how full his lips become when he’s happy. I can’t get enough, even if he is Drix’s brother and we’re both upset. “I thought it was a weird way to say it. All I could think was maybe the gym you go to pipes in really good tunes. But how’d you decide on roller skating?”

Grabbing his elbow, I pull him as I start walking toward the door again. “I was online this morning scrolling around while I waited for you to come out. Someone had put up pictures from their kid’s birthday party at the roller skating rink. It’s been years, but I thought it could be fun.”

Holden doesn’t say a lot after they make us sign a waiver specifically for adults about bodily injury if we fall. His brow furrows apprehensively, but I wave off his concern as I sign my signature with a flourish. He’s definitely more hesitant, but does the same. He’s also quiet while we pick up our skate rentals. When I ask if he wants to eat first, his response is he wants to get the skating over with. My bright idea is starting to dim as I look at him now slowly lacing his skates up. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” I guess I really should’ve asked.

Holden’s eyes finally meet mine as he blows out a deep breath. “No, this is fine. I’m sorry. I’m a little nervous. Gavin’s asked me if I wanted to go roller skating a couple of times over the years, but I’ve always been able to convince him to do something else. I probably would’ve tried to talk you into going to the movies or something if you’d asked, so this is good. I’m glad you surprised me. It’s just… I haven’t skated in years.”

“Aww, you’ll be fine,” I say. “It’s been a long time for me, too, but I’m sure it’s like riding a bike.”

While focusing on tying his last skate, he asks, “How long for you?”

“I don’t know, maybe junior year of high school. I didn’t really come a lot after spending every weekend in sixth and seventh grade here; but some. It was a fun place to hang out every now and then.”

Expelling a sigh, he admits softly, “I haven’t been since the summer after fifth grade. I’m scared I’m going to make a fool of myself.”

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