Page 72 of All The Way Under
The weight of what I’ve been through was heavy until I compared it to what Brody has endured throughout his life. It’s almost as if by loving someone who has been through so much, I’m able to distance myself from my own trauma.
I use the bathroom, wash my face, brush my teeth, and give Grimace a pet before crawling into bed next to Brody. He pulls me close, and his touch when I’m tired is like a sedative. I fall asleep briskly, and for the first time since I got home, the nightmares don’t come.
Brody apologizes for the third time at breakfast. I guess this was one of the two debauchery drunk days he allows himself per year, and he wasn’t planning on it being one.
“Your security is here, so I guess that’s why I felt it was a good time to let my guard down. It’s been so long since I’ve done that.”
“Stop apologizing for having fun. You didn’t do or say anything that crazy.”
I let my gaze drop to his shin. It bled all over the bed last night, stopping just short of soaking the mattress. I’ve already washed and dried the bedding, and he helped me put it back on.
“That’s crazy,” I say once again.
I push him a glass of orange juice and headache medicine. He takes it, swallowing the juice so quickly it dribbles down his chin. I finish my bagel and coffee and take our dishes to the sink, where Catherine is.
She’s hovering over the sink with a piece of buttered toast.
“I am not twenty-one anymore,” she says, voice raspy. “How are you feeling? This was either the absolute best way to meet us or the worst. Be honest and tell me which one.” Her eyes are rimmed in yesterday’s eye makeup.
“Best. Definitely best. Meeting you guys has been the highlight of my year.”
Catherine’s smile drops. “You were kidnapped off your boat and taken to a deserted base where they held you captive in a cage for a month with Brody McCoy. They stole your boat, and now there’s a media frenzy around your mere existence.” She shakes her head. “I’m not sure being the highlight is a compliment. The standard bar is in hell, Saylor.”
The laughter that comes next is uncontrollable, mostly because she said it all with a straight face, like Brody would.
“There was a lot of good too. The bar isn’t in hell at all. I think I’m able to compartmentalize the whole thing in Madagascar because being with Brody made it bearable. He said it best when he said he’s comfortable being uncomfortable, and I guess that rubbed off on me.”
I wash my dishes and put them on a dish towel to dry.
“Thanks for embracing me like this. I know Nolan might take some time to come around and warm up to me, but I appreciate you for just taking me at face value.”
“You’re welcome,” Catherine says. “He will come around. You know that, right? He’s a softie. He takes that older by thirty-seven minutes seriously.”
I nudge her with my elbow. “How could I forget? He has that big brother energy.”
“What kind of energy?” Nolan asks, kissing Catherine on the cheek before refilling his coffee cup. “The hungover kind of energy? The taking the dog out early because you slept in kind of energy?”
“Thanks for taking Grimace out,” Brody moans from the kitchen table.
“I popped into the guest house to make sure your, ah, friends knew that the kitchen was stocked for them.”
“Thank you for that,” I reply. His heart is just as big as Brody’s. I think it’s just on his sleeve. “I know they appreciate it more than you know. This property is beautiful. I can see why you guys love it here.”
“Brody rarely comes out here,” Nolan says. “Maybe he will now.”
“Why?” I ask, aiming my question at the hungover man in question.
He looks up but keeps his head in his hands. “No real reason. I just worked a lot, and I don’t know how to be friends with some of our old friends. It sounds like a lie, but I promise it’s the truth. My life is just different, and I can’t talk about a day in the office or coworker gossip. I don’t have kids yet, or have much in common with most folks. Making friends is nearly impossible for people like us. I’ll try again with Liddy and Sam if you want to plan something, McLan.”
He lays his head on the table and exhales noisily.
“We need to havelessfun today. I’m going to make us some ginger and lemon balm tea and then I need to hit the damn gym.” He moans. “Who the hell let me drink that much?”
“You aren’t a baby. We let you self-govern! I have some work to do as well if I don’t want to be buried with emails on Monday,” Catherine says, walking into the open living room off the kitchen.
I look at him, biting back a laugh.
Brody says, “If you’re going to nurse me back to health, at least do it without the smug face.”
