He must have noticed my stillness. “I'm sorry, I should have warned you,” he said, tilting his head to the side of the scar.
“No, there's no need to apologize for that.” I sighed and wiped my sweaty brow as I continued combing Bobby's hair. Our conversation had distracted me from the heat, but my body went along sweating so that my white cotton night gown stuck to me. I wondered if he could see through it with the light shining on us like it was.
I swallowed nervously as I grabbed the scissors. “How short?”
“Not too short. Maybe just shorter on the sides, but keep the top longer. I like it to flop around.”
“Me too,” I agreed, wishing I hadn't.
I pulled all of Bobby's hair together and chopped off a few inches at once. Then I got to work with the details. I was quiet, he was still. Every other minute or so, I would grab a gulp of beer to cool me down from the intense heat radiating as I hovered around him.
“How's the ceiling?” Bobby asked.
I sniggered. “Well, there's a hole there. That's about as far as my expert opinion goes.”
“I know it was tense there for a minute, but you have to admit, it was kind of ridiculous. Who does that?”
I looked at Bobby disapprovingly, but nodded. “You should have seen his face when the gun went off. I thought he messed his pants. And then all the paint and plaster covered him and he was all white.” Recollecting the image of Rory cowering to the shot tickled my funny bone unexpectedly. I found myself laughing so loud I had to put the scissors down.
“Shhh!” Bobby chastised. “Rory is gonna be mad if we wake him up on a work night.” I could tell by the look in his eyes though, he was happy to make me laugh.
As I went back to cutting, I tried my best to keep my eyes averted from his tan, muscled shoulders. Rory was a looker too, but his long hours in the office had left him pale and softer. It seemed Bobby had gotten physically stronger over the years. But it was the tranquility I felt that was most disturbing. I just wanted peace, and Bobby had a way of making me feel that, even when we were at odds. I felt safe. With Rory, for so long I felt like I was performing. Always one bad showing away from his disapproval.
“Alright, I think I'm finished,” I said, standing in front of Bobby and holding a mirror to him to observe my handiwork. His hair still had enough length to match his spirit, but was sharper now.
Bobby grabbed the mirror and stood up, so that now we were inches apart. His chest, covered in perspiration, was at my eyes, and I froze. I realized this was a mistake, letting him lure me out here. I could be civil, but this had gone beyond that. Rehashing memories, inside jokes, and shirtless haircuts. He caught me in the still of the night, when I was hot and tired and feeling distant from Rory. This was going too fast. Bobby didn't deserve this side of me.
I grabbed the mirror and stepped back. “Alright, well good night,” I said frigidly, cradling my things in my arms. “Please bring the bottles in. I don't want ants.”
I headed for the door, wishing I had just stayed in bed. Wishing I hadn't just tortured myself with the taste of possibility. I wrestled with the handle and too many things in my hands and the mirror fell and shattered.
“Shit!” I scoffed.
“Don't worry, I'll clean it up.”
“I don't care about the stupid mirror,” I said, without looking back at him. I still needed help with the door, but I didn't want to ask, so I went for it again.
“Lil.”
I ignored him.
“Lil.”
I sighed and let my shoulders drop, relenting. But I didn't turn around.
I felt Bobby fidget behind me. I watched his shadow against the house as he rifled through his hair and took an abrupt step towards me before stopping. “You said I never wrote anyone, but that's not true. I wrote you. I wrote you on the days where I was so wet and cold and tired, that I hoped I would go to sleep and never wake up. I wrote you when I saw my friends blown to pieces. I wrote you when I missed home. Every single time. But I couldn't send those letters. You know I couldn't.”
I hugged my things as a tear escaped.
“And I left the wedding because I had to get away from you. And ever since then, I've been running.”
“But you're here now.”
“I am.”
“Why now?”
“Because no matter how far I go, you're there anyway. And I understand now that I just have to learn to live with that. “
I nodded. “Me too.”
“I shouldn't punish my brother for my sins. I see the damage I did now, and I want to make it better, Lil. I want to help Rory get back to his old self. For him, and for you. I want us to be a family.”
“No one asked you to fix anything,” I said. It didn't matter anymore. Bobby vanishing broke Rory. The cracks in his foundation would never fully be sealed. And I resented Rory for wanting his brother back so badly, that I was the only one who was treating Bobby the way he deserved—like a liar. A thief. Not of material things, but of trust, love, hope.
“I’m sorry. So, so sorry, Lil.”
“Don’t,” I rasped through clenched teeth. I wasn’t even sure if he heard.
“Just tell me. If you want me to leave, right now, tonight, just say the word, and I'll go. If you'd rather keep me dead, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again. If you think you and Rory are better without me here, I'll leave. And I won't tell Rory it was you. I'll take the blame again.”
I should have taken him up on the offer. I knew it was the right thing. But I had already made the mistake of being out there with him too long. Of remembering what it was like.
I shook my head ever so slightly. Finally, I gripped the door handle and let myself in, leaving Bobby outside, alone.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” Rory teased playfully as I entered the kitchen on a Monday morning. It had been a few days since I had cut Bobby's hair on the porch and Rory had been sober the entire time. Besides the mishap on the night of Bobby's return, Rory seemed to be thrilled to have his brother back. I insisted they take the weekend to do some brotherly activities together while I stayed behind, which made it easy for me to avoid Bobby.
“Well, since it was finally below eighty-five for one night, I actually slept a bit.”
“It's nice to see you finally get some sleep. Maybe you won't be so grumpy,” Rory said with a wink before kissing my temple.
“We can only pray,” I replied.
“Morning, Lil,” Bobby said, as he tended to something on the stovetop.
“Good morning,” I answered. “Thanks for making breakfast.” I would be cordial, but that's as far as I could go again.
“Welcome,” he said, plopping a huge breakfast in front of me.
“Jesus, Bobby,” I reared away from the plate. “There's enough to feed an army on here.”
“That's right, fatten her up! She doesn't eat in this heat and she's losing those sexy curves.”
“Oh stop.” I waved at Rory, not wanting my body to become a topic of discussion, particularly in front of Bobby.
Rory sat in the chair next to me. “I'm leaving early to head to the office before the airport. Anyway, listen, Bobby and I got to talking...”
“I can't wait to hear what you two conjured up.”
“I'll be back for the fourth. So why don't we have a big Fourth of July cook out? Remember the one we had when we bought the house?”
“Well, I guess we could.” It had been a while since we had opened up our home like that. Over the past year, it had become a place I didn't associate with fun anymore. I was surprised to hear Rory so excited about the idea since he had seemed to want to be away as much as possible between the long days at work, nights at the bar, and travel.