Promises

“I just wanted to see you.”

That made me relax a little, but I knew there was something else going on. “That’s all?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything, and he was still staring down at the floor.

I walked closer, and he tensed up a little, like he might bolt if I made any sudden movements. “Matt, look at me.”

It took him a second, like he had to work up his nerve, but when he glanced up at me, I saw it in his eyes. He was barely holding himself together. Coming to me hadn’t been a whim. It had been an act of desperation. He didn’t just want to see me; at that moment, he actually needed me, although he could never have said it. He looked sad and terrified and lost. I could tell he was embarrassed for me to see him this way but desperate for me to help him somehow.

I went to him, put my arms around him, and he grabbed on to me like he was drowning and buried his face in my shoulder. He was shaking, his breathing ragged, and I thought he might be crying but trying hard not to. At that moment, I hated Joseph more than I ever had before. I hated that he could break Matt, who was usually so strong and confident, in only a few short days. I don’t know how long we stood like that—several minutes at least. I just held him, rubbing his back and shoulders a little, making calming sounds until his breathing was steady again, and he finally relaxed.

“I’m sorry, Jared,” he whispered.

“Shhh. Don’t be silly. You have nothing to apologize for.” I kissed the top of his head. “What happened?”

“Nothing, really. I’m just losing my fucking mind.” He laughed, but it was harsh and humorless. “I can’t stand it. I can’t stand him.” He took a couple of deep breaths, and then said, in something closer to his normal voice, “I miss you. I hate that we have to be apart right now.”

“Me too. Why don’t you come over tonight? They don’t have to know.”

“I’m on nights this week.”

So he was working nights and spending the days with his parents and probably barely sleeping in the meantime. That explained a lot about his present state of mind.

He pulled back, stood up, and turned away from me. Even with his back to me, I could see him putting himself back together, wiping his eyes, standing straighter, squaring his shoulders, putting on that carefully controlled, guarded expression. “He’s drinking, Jared. A lot. And he never knows when to keep his mouth shut. This is the worst it’s ever been.”

Just then, Lizzy poked her head around the corner. “Can I come in?” she asked quietly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to get into the safe.”

Matt took a deep breath and then turned around. He was still tense, but he had most of his usual confidence back. To anybody else, he probably looked as calm and in control as ever. But I could still see the anger and sadness in his eyes. “It’s okay, Lizzy.”

She headed for the safe but watched him out of the corner of her eye the whole time.

She got what she needed out of the safe and started out but then stopped and turned to him.

“How bad is it, Matt?”

He shrugged. “Pretty bad.”

She thought about it for a minute, and then said, “Why don’t you all come to dinner on Christmas?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that to you. Not after the way he behaved last time.”

She walked over to him and put a hand on his arm, looking way up into his eyes. “Matt, you’re family now. You should be with us on Christmas. And if that means we have to put up with your father, then we will.”

He looked at the floor, then glanced at me, and then at her. “He doesn’t know….”

“I figured as much. We’ll be careful.”

“Really?” He sounded hopeful.

“Really.”

He smiled and hugged her, much more gently than he ever hugged me. She looked so tiny in his arms. “Thanks, Lizzy.” She started to head back out, but he said, “Oh, Lizzy, one more thing?”

“Yes.”

“Jared can’t cut his hair. I wouldn’t have anything to hang on to. It gives me good leverage.”

I had never seen Lizzy turn quite so red so fast. I knew I was blushing too. Matt laughed at us both. And hearing his laugh at that moment was worth all the embarrassment in the world.

I WAS in the kitchen with Mom and Lizzy when Matt and his parents arrived on Christmas day. Matt came in immediately and said quietly, “He’s drunk. Lizzy, I hope you don’t end up regretting this.”

Before she could say anything, Lucy came in. She obviously felt awkward after the debacle of their last visit, but she thanked Lizzy for inviting them, and then Brian brought James in, and the three women were immediately talking about sleeping patterns and nursing habits. Matt, Brian, and I cleared out in a hurry.

We made it most of the way through dinner before the shit hit the proverbial fan.

“I’m surprised that there’s no snow,” Lucy was saying. “I figured we would have a white Christmas in Colorado.”

Brian laughed. “We rarely get snow for Christmas. Any that we do get before this generally melts in a day or two. Our heaviest snowfall is usually February or March.”

Suddenly, Joseph looked around the table and said, “Don’t you have anything to drink?”

Lizzy’s smile was all innocence. “What would you like? I have iced tea, Sprite, Dr Pepper, milk—”

“No! I’m talking about a drink.”

“Oh!” She looked genuinely dismayed. “I meant to get some wine to have with dinner, but I got so busy yesterday, and I forgot to go to the liquor store. And of course, they’re closed today.” She looked around guiltily and giggled a little and shrugged, and she really did come across as somebody who just couldn’t quite keep too much in her head at once. “I’m such an airhead, sometimes. Brian’s always teasing me about it.”

Of course, that wasn’t true at all. Nobody would ever accuse Lizzy of being an airhead, least of all Brian. I also knew that there was plenty of alcohol in the house.

“You mean you don’t even have any beer?”

“We finished it off on Sunday watching the game,” I told him. Also a lie.

“Well, with the way those Cowboys are playing this season, I can understand that.” Of course, the Cowboys game hadn’t even been shown that week in Colorado, but we didn’t say anything.

I was actually glad football had come up—such a nice, safe topic—and I said, “Can you believe Al Davis fired his head coach again already?”

I could tell Matt was wound up too tight to respond, but this was the one topic I could count on Brian for. “Hey,” he said, “as long as he keeps being an idiot, the Raiders keep sucking. He’s actually my hero.”

But Joseph ignored us and moved on to his favorite subject.

“Matt, I still can’t figure out why you’re not dating anyone. When we were here last summer, we couldn’t go anywhere without some young girl giving you her number. You should be playing the field.”

“Dad, can we please not discuss this again?”

“Why not? You’re never going to find the right girl if you don’t date a few.”

“Joseph, I’m sure you heard that Matt’s girlfriend, Cherie, was killed a few weeks ago,” Lizzy said, smooth as ever, and Matt looked at her gratefully. “It was very traumatic. I know her death was very hard on him.”

“Horse shit! We never even heard about the girl.” As if they talked every day. As if Matt would have shared it with his dad even if he had cared for her. “What about that looker we saw yesterday at the pizza place?”

Matt’s jaw was clenched tight, his hands gripping each other tight on the table in front of him. “Dad! Enough.”

“What? It’s a simple question?”

“It’s a simple question which you have already asked me a dozen times. The answer is the same. I’m not interested.” His voice had that low, controlled tone, which I knew meant he was furious. Joseph either didn’t notice or didn’t care. I suspected the latter.

“How can you not be interested? If not her, what about that redhead? Your mother wants grandkids, and you’re not getting any younger. Are you ever going to stop being so damn selfish and do your duty?”