Chain Reaction 3.1.95: Honestly Better

 

 

Benjamin Love

       Braydon moves in with Grandma, Mommy, and me. I like him. He's really nice, and he acts like he's really interested in what I have to say when I talk to him, like he's not faking it just to get me to stop talking. I like that. And Mommy's really happy.

      Grandma's really happy, too. That is, when she realizes what's going on.

     Mommy says Grandma isn't "here" all the time anymore. It's like her brain is broken, and she'll tell me the same thing every five minutes or so. I think even the ghost of my Grandpa notices.

     I guess it's one of those things. The important thing, I guess, is that Grandma is happy to have Mommy back at "home" again. I guess this is home, after all.

     I like this house, especially now that I have a karaoke machine in the spare room.

 

      I LOVE singing. I do it all the time, and I love having the machine accompany me. I just wish I had more control over the tempos. Daddy says that if I learn to play an instrument myself, I can accompany myself. That's when I, very carefully, asked him if he'd teach me the piano. He smiled and said he would! Mommy says she'll buy me a piano as soon as she can. But first, she's getting married.

     She's really happy, and like I said, I like Braydon. He's going to be my second Daddy, even if I can still call him just Braydon.

      He really loves Mommy, too. I may not know a whole lot about that kind of stuff, but anyone with half a brain can see he does.

      Braydon makes my mommy happy. She doesn't do that annoyed sigh much at all anymore like she used to do when she was still married to Daddy. I know kids are supposed to only want their parents to be together, but they both act happier now.

 Dwight

     I'm depressed. How ironic. Dr. Foster is depressed, but I know it's not chemical. No, it's my situation.

     I used to be okay being alone all the time. I was accustomed to it... until I wasn't anymore. If only things could be like they were in the beginning of my relationship with Pedro. That would be great.

     But they're not.

     It's Saturday, and I forced myself to get up, take Lula Belle for a walk, take a shower, eat breakfast, etc. Then I ran out of stuff to do, so I'm just lying here on the bed with my eyes closed. I'm not even interested in reading anything.

     My phone rings. Pedro. I answer and tell him I'm in the middle of a nap. He issues some standard platitudes, and the conversation ends. I didn't want to talk to him, but I had to answer or he'd freak out.

     Then I roll over and cry into my pillow.

     My phone rings again. Without answering, I mutter, "Leave me alone." Checking, I see it's Marco. Huh. Okay.

     He convinces me to get out of the house, and we go to a pub in the old town. I sense an ulterior motive, but honestly, right now, huzzah to his ulterior motive. Huzzah? I think I'm tipsy. He asks me how things are going. I tell him nothing's changed since I talked to him last, which was that night after the café.

     "Nothing's changed?" he asks.

     I shrug. "I always get the same answer with him accusing me of not caring, which isn't fair because I do."

     He gives me a look. "So stop."

     "What?"

     "Stop caring. Look, if you feed into Pedro's crap, he's just going to hand you more crap."

     "So what you're saying is he's full of crap. And handing me that crap, which means he's dumping on me, which pretty much means he's dropping a deuce on my face." I start laughing.

     He laughs a little too. "Well, is it really that far from the truth?"

     There it is again. I think Marco is still interested in me, but I'm not positive. Maybe I'm misinterpreting the signals that are possibly not there because I'm projecting something from me onto him. Maybe I'm still interested in him. Is that it?

     He kept saying he was bad for me, he was bad for me, he was the worst kind of person for me. But honestly, is Pedro any better? I'm starting to think no.

     "Do you know how to play darts?" he asks me.

     "I used to." I ask the bartender for the darts for the board, and he reaches into a drawer and hands us some.

 

     I let Marco go first. He gets zero.

     "I'm not saying I'll be any better," I tell him.

     "Maybe it's because nothing is riding on it. The stakes need to be higher. How about if I win, I'll take you out somewhere the next time Pedro's out of town." He smirks.

     My heart beats in a funny way for a second. "That sounds suspiciously like a date, Marco."

     "Hm, so it does," he remarks behind me, not changing his statement.

     Physics. It's all physics. If I can just release at the right time with the right amount of force. Hm. Therein lies the difficulty. "And if I win?"

     He almost laughs. "Then you take me out."

     I manage to get two points to his zero.
 

     "If I win, you tell me what it was you were going to tell me that morning in the park." Hah! Although, I don't know what that will solve. But it is something that has me wondering, even if I had a good guess. It's especially that I know he was terrified to say it. I want to know if it's still true.

     But does it matter? I'm with Pedro. I'm living with him. We have a dog together.

     So why do I still want to know?

     He watches me. "Why do you want to know?"

     "My own personal curiosity." It's almost the truth.

     "All right. Deal."

     I can't believe it!

 

     There's an immediate change in him. I am now playing darts with Detective Barnett instead of just Marco. With his first throw, he ties me. With his second, he scores another point. His third, two more.

     "Are you a darts shark?" I ask.

     "What, that? That still sucked."

     "More than doubled my score, though."

     He grins. "Guess I'm just feeling lucky."

     Why am I doing this? I think when my turn ends and all I'd gotten were a lousy two points. I can't go on a pretty-much date with Marco! Pedro would lay an egg he'd be so upset. 

     I have to turn this around.

     As Marco stands in front of the dartboard, I say, "Hey, uh, Marco, about that wager..."

 

     He hits the bullseye. "Yeah?"

     "Sh*t," I mutter to myself.

     "You maybe wanna up the stakes?" he asks with a grin.

     I let out a huff. What the plum have I gotten myself into? I step in front of the dart board, hoping I have a fabulous turn. "No."

      I focus on taking deep, even breaths. I can do this.

 

     Good. If I throw a two next, I win. If a one, we tie. A tie might actually be better. Then no one wins, and no one gets their rather dangerous winnings. If I win, I won't make him tell me. That could be bad.

 

     "Sure you don't want to back out? I wouldn't hold it against you if you did."

     I'm sure he's smiling as he says, "Nope. I'm good."

     Crap! That means he's okay if I win. Dammit, that was supposed to scare him. Oh, this could be very bad. I simply must score a one. I aim, throw... and hit the wall. Marco won.

      What now? I can't go on a pretty-much date! That's... no!

      He's watching me back away. "Hold it." He grabs my hand.

 

     "Look, I just wanna do this again. I could tell on the phone and stuff that you're not yourself. It's just my way of making sure you don't sit around and mope all damn day."

     "Then why did you make it seem..." Why can't I finish?

     "Because it was funny!" He smiles. It fades. "Well, it was. Dammit, Dwight. I'm not trying to break you two up, even if I think he's a prick."

     "Okay," I say. It was all in my head. Just my imagination.