The Culmination (7 page)

I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.

“You think what you’re feeling is because of all you’ve been through? What
we’ve
been through? No. It’s called fatherhood, man. It’s what happens when a boy becomes a fucking
man.
Now, all of a sudden, your entire happiness—every last bit of it—depends on the health and wellbeing and happiness of your wife and kid.” He looks at Gracie. “And there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s the most helpless feeling in the world.”

There’s a lump in my throat. “I’m
normal
to feel this way?” I finally ask. “It’s not just because I’m...
me
?”

“No, it’s not just you, dumbshit. I feel the same way every minute of every fucking day. I’m so happy, just so fucking
happy
with Kat and Gracie, and another one on the way, oh my God, I literally
pray
every night, ‘Please, dear God, please don’t take all of this away from me. Please, please, please. I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll be a good father. I’ll be a good husband. I’ll donate money to cure cancer. I’ll donate money for a thousand water wells in Africa.” His voice quavers. “Just please, please, please don’t fucking destroy me.’”

My chest tightens. I’m shaking like I’ve been rolling around in the snow without a jacket. “That’s exactly it,” I whisper.

“We’re the same, Jonas. More than you know. The only difference between me and you is I’m not stupid enough to think I’m the first man on the planet to feel this way.” He rolls his eyes yet again.

“Daddy bubba?” Gracie pulls on Josh’s pant leg.

“Hey, honey, you know what? I think I saw the bunny that lives over there next to those rocks—he just poked his head up and looked for you. Can you find him? I think he wants you to pet him.” Gracie wanders in the direction of the rocks, yet again, and we both watch her waddle away for a moment. “Bro,” he finally says, putting his hand on my shoulder, “what you’re feeling is
happiness
. It doesn’t feel like it, I know—but, trust me, that’s what it is. You’re just focusing on the wrong side of the coin, that’s all. You’re focusing on what you could lose, instead of what you have. Just turn the coin over, man. That’s all you have to do to be happy—just turn the coin over. That’s all anyone can fucking do.”

I’m quiet for a long time, thinking.

“You understand?” Josh finally says.

I nod.

“You sure?”

I nod.

“Anything else bothering you?”

I shake my head.

“You sure?”

I nod.

“You ready to stop being a pussy-ass?”

I nod again.

“Good. It’s about time. Because I’m sick of you being such a goddamned pussy.”

I laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it. Ready?”

“Yeah.”

He slaps his face. Hard. “Okay, pussy-ass-motherfucker.”

I slap my face in reply, even harder. “Thanks, asshole-cocksucker.”

He hugs me.

“Thanks, Josh.” I bury my face into his shoulder for a minute.

“Just
talk
to me, Jonas,” he says into my cheek. “No matter what.” He kisses the side of my neck. “You big dummy.” He pulls away from our hug and looks me in the eyes like he’s going to say something particularly poignant. “Talking. Lets. The. Feelings. Out.”

We both burst out laughing.

“There’s this really cool book I can loan to you, if you want. It might really help you.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve read that book. Like,
five hundred times.
”

Josh slaps me on the shoulder. “So, come on. Let’s wrap up this heartfelt and poignant conversation with some obscure Plato quote that’s gonna rock my world and make you sound like some kind of fucking deep thinker. That’s the only thing that could make this moment any better.”

“Fuck you.”

“Aw, come on. Plato me.”

“I’ve got one, you know.”

“I know you do. And I’m sure it’s super-duper profound.”

I roll my eyes.

“Hit me.”

“No, because you’re just being a dick. And I don’t like you being a dick to my boy Plato.”

“Aw, come on. I have full respect for your boy. If he’s your brother, then he’s my brother, too.”

I glare at him.

“Seriously. Plato me.”

I exhale. “Fine.”

“This is gonna be good. I can feel it.”

“‘There are two things a person should never be angry at—what they can help, and what they cannot,’” I say.

“Ah, see? Perfect. Exactly right. Good one, Plato. In other words, take a chill pill. Worrying never helped anybody.”

“Never mock my boy.”

“Never.”

“If you force me to choose between Plato and you, I’ll choose Plato every time, fucker. Always remember that.”

“Hey, I already knew that.”

I grin at him.

“But seriously. Whatever helps you figure your shit out is fine by me. Always. And Plato’s right. Don’t worry. There’s no point. Just focus on your happiness. Anything else is a waste of time. We can’t control any of it. So just enjoy the ride.”

I take a long, deep breath. “You’re absolutely sure what I’m feeling is normal?”

“Well, fuck. I don’t know if it’s
normal
—is there such a thing as normal? All I can say is I feel it, too. But I just choose to ignore it and enjoy the ride—unlike you, Mr. Look for Unhappiness Under Every Fucking Rock.”

Before I can respond, music starts blaring from the outdoor speakers. The song is “Love Cats” by The Cure.

Sarah ambles through the sliding glass door, a sweater wrapped around her sexy curves. “Hey, Josh Faraday.”

“Hey, Sarah Cruz.”

“I’ve got a message for you from your wife.” She points up to the sky, obviously telling Josh his message is encoded in the song.

Chapter 6

Jonas

I rub my eyes, trying to erase any hint of my emotional conversation with Josh from my face.

“Hey, baby,” I say.

“Hi, love. So, Josh, have you figured out the super-secret message in the song yet?”

Josh smiles. “I love this song.”

At his obvious lack of understanding, Sarah scowls at him. “Aw, come on, Josh. I thought you were the
smart
twin. ‘Love Cats’?
Love Kat
?”

“Ah.”

“Duh, Josh.”

“Duh,” he agrees.

“Despite your wife’s face being the color of Kermit the Frog right now, the Party Girl with a Hyphen has requested the Playboy’s immediate presence inside the house—so that you may
love
Kat, if you know what I mean.” She winks and makes a clicking sound like she’s prompting a horse.

Josh’s face ignites.

Sarah holds up the brand new bottle of bubbles she’s brought with her. “Gracie, you wanna blow bubbles with Uncle Jo Jo and me while Daddy and Mommy
love
each other inside?”

“I luh Mommee.”

Josh kneels down to Gracie, his voice brimming with barely-contained glee. “Gracie, you stay out here with Uncle Jo Jo and Auntie Sarah, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“I love you, Gracie.”

“I luh yoo, Dadda.”

He kisses her on the cheek, rustles her hair, and sprints toward the sliding glass door without looking back.

“Run along and be free, Josh Faraday,” Sarah calls to Josh’s back.

“Make it quick,” I yell. “The food’s ready and I’m hungry.”

Sarah scowls at me. “Bite your tongue, Jonas Faraday. I can’t believe you of all people just told any man, let alone your brother, to ‘make it quick’ with his woman. Blasphemy.”

I shrug. “Fuck him. I’m hungry.”

Josh opens the sliding glass door and turns around to face us. “Thank you, Sarah Cruz!” he yells. “You’re my favorite person, ever. And fuck you, Uncle Jo Jo! You suck!” With that, he disappears into the house.

“Fahk yoo, Unkie Jo Jo,” Gracie mutters, twirling around. “Fahk yooooo. Yoooo sahk.”

Sarah clamps her hand over her mouth.

“Oh shit,” I say. “Kat’s gonna kill us.”

“Us?
You
. She’s gonna kill
you
,” Sarah replies.

“
Me?
No way. It was Josh.”

“Fahk yoooooo!” Gracie says, twirling.

“Well, Kat shouldn’t be surprised. What did she expect when she had a kid with a freakin’ Faraday, after all?” Sarah says. “Kat’s only getting what she deserves.”

I laugh. “Exactly.”

“Yoo sahk!” Gracie sings out.

“In fact, it serves them
both
right for teaching Gracie to call me Uncle Jo Jo. I should teach Gracie to say
motherfucker
and
asshole,
just to even the score.”

“Ssh, Jonas,” Sarah says, glancing down at Gracie. “You show ’em, baby,” she whispers. “Karma’s a bleep.”

“Damn straight.”

“Bubba?” Gracie asks, tugging on Sarah’s dress. “Auntie Sah?”

“You betcha. Uncle Jo Jo, you wanna blow bubbles with Little G and me?” She laughs. “Hey, we sound like a rap trio: Uncle Jo Jo, Little G, and OAP.” Sarah strikes a gangsta pose. “Yo.”

“I sense another viral video in your future.”

Sarah laughs and throws her arms around my neck. “God, I love you, Uncle Jo Jo.”

I pull her to me. “No. Never call me that. Anyone but you.”

She hugs me and kisses my neck. “I love you, my sweet
Jonas
.”

“Did you call the doctor?”

“Yup. She’s fitting us in first thing tomorrow—eight o’clock sharp. She said to call her tonight if I have any further pains or discomfort, but what I described didn’t sound worrisome. I feel okay. Kinda achy, but okay.”

I take a deep breath. “Tell me if you have any more pain whatsoever.”

“I will.”

“Unkie Jo Jo, bubba?” Gracie asks, touching my knee.

Sarah laughs. “Come on, Uncle Jo Jo. The girl’s been more than patient.” She breaks away from me to lead Gracie to the lawn. “Okay, Gracie. Let’s blow bubbles.” There’s a long beat as I watch Sarah open the bottle and get the bubble wand ready. “So you had a nice talk with your brother?”

“Yeah.”

Sarah blows a string of bubbles for Gracie, making Gracie squeal and chase them.

“To tell you the truth, I was struggling a bit, baby,” I finally say. “Josh helped me.”

Emotion washes over Sarah’s face. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Her entire body visibly relaxes. “Good.” She puckers her beautiful lips and blows another train of bubbles for Gracie, sending Gracie squealing and running through the grass, yet again. “What were you struggling with, my love?”

“The usual Jonas bullshit.”

She bites her lip. “You’re worried about the babies?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“I figured. What’d he say that helped you?”

“He called me a dumbshit, basically.”

She laughs. “He’s so damned wise, that man.”

“This might come as a shock to you, but I sometimes drown in my thoughts to an unhealthy degree.”

She grins at me sympathetically. But her silence tells me she already knows this little factoid about me.

“I always think I’m experiencing some kind of unique torment known only to me—that there’s something particularly
wrong
with me in any given situation simply because, you know, I’m
me
.”

She nods. She knows.

“I guess when you’ve lived a life like mine, what’s normal to feel and what’s totally fucked up is sometimes hard to gauge.”

“I can only imagine. It is for me, too, sometimes.”

“I always just assume I’m feeling something totally abnormal—something only I can feel because I’ve got some sort of post-traumatic fuckeduppedness. And then I start feeling so alone and fucked up in my abnormality—and then things start messing with my head. And then I just
spiral.
”

She’s listening intently. She blows another string of bubbles for Gracie, but her eyes are on me.

“Josh made me realize I need to get over myself and stop being a gigantic pussy-ass.”

“You’re not a pussy-ass.”

“More bubba!” Gracie demands.

“Oh, sorry, honey.” Sarah blows another string of bubbles and Gracie chases them, shrieking. Sarah turns back to me, her face aflame. “You’re not a pussy-ass, Jonas,” she whispers. “You’re a beast. I’m actually offended you’d even say that about yourself. Men aren’t allowed to have feelings? Or express fear or pain or doubt? Is that it?” She scoffs. “You’re
real
. You’re
human
. You have
emotions
because you’re not some one-dimensional hero in an action movie or a romance novel. You’re not some bullshit fantasy—you’re flesh and blood and bones.” She juts her chin at me. “And
balls
. Gigantic donkey balls.” Clearly, she’s on a roll. “You’re a freaking badass and a sex god and a stud. You’re big-hearted and generous and honest and raw. Oh my God, baby, you’re everything a man should be, and more, rolled into one ridiculously gorgeous package. You’re not a
caricature
of a man—you’re a real, flesh and blood
man
.” She’s panting. “A living, breathing, beautiful beast of a
man
, in every sense of the word—and anyone who says differently needs to answer to me. Even if that person is
you
.”

Holy fuck, I think my heart just stopped. I love it when my baby gets on her soapbox—especially when it’s to say something as amazing as all that.

“So don’t call yourself a pussy-ass ever again,” she says quietly. “Or, God help me, I’m gonna go all Latina on your ass—and that’s not something you want to experience.” She blows another string of bubbles for Gracie as if she hasn’t just given me the most epic tribute a woman could ever give a man.

I bite my lip. “Please don’t go Latina on my ass.”

“It’s up to you.”

I’m rock hard right now. I lean down to Sarah on the grass and whisper into her ear. “Gracie is such a little cock blocker right now.”

Sarah bursts out laughing. “Welcome to our future.”

“Yeah, so Josh was just telling me.”

Gracie grabs at the bubble wand and Sarah holds her little hand at bay.

“Let me help you, honey,” Sarah says. She dips the wand into the bottle for her. “Okay, here you go. Pucker like this—no, like
this
, baby.” Sarah bursts out laughing at Gracie’s unsuccessful attempt at a pucker. “You are so darned cute, do you know that, love monkey?” She holds up the wand. “Okay, now
blow
.”