I nod. Though I’m loath to admit it, what Will said about Rex makes a lot of sense. Rex offers help to protect himself. It’s something to fall back on when he’s uncertain. Something he can offer to show he cares without making himself too vulnerable. But how can I tell the difference between that and what he says is how we trust each other: by letting each other help? I really don’t know.
“Daniel?” Will says, snapping my attention back to him. “Take care of him, okay?”
“Okay,” I say. Will shakes my hand and gets in his car. “Will,” I say, and gesture for him to roll down his window. “You’re not so bad either. Have a safe trip.” His smile is pure victory as he backs out of the driveway.
I sit down on the front step. I don’t quite understand how my life got so out of control. How did things turn so fucked-up just when I thought I was getting everything together? And why do I feel so… so fucking vulnerable?
No, not just vulnerable. I feel panicked.
It started with the phone call about my dad, sure. But, everything with Colin—I still can’t wrap my mind around it. It’s like I have to re-see my whole life—every interaction with him—through a new lens. He hasn’t called me back either, no surprise there. Then Virginia’s call….
The Temple job is everything I thought I wanted all throughout grad school. Secure, prestigious, teaching smart students, working with brilliant faculty, having the budget to bring speakers to campus, having access to great libraries and archives. It was perfect.
Last year.
And now? Now, just the idea of leaving Rex fills me with the strongest panic of all. And the look on his face when I said Temple was in Philly… he looked resigned. Like he knew it would happen. Just like Will said.
Fuck! Everything is spiraling out of control again, the way it used to when I was a fucked-up kid with no self-control who would act before thinking anything through. Only back then the sensation was thrilling, like a kite string unspooling into who knows where.
Now I just feel like I want to puke.
I go back inside to finish changing my laundry loads, but find that Rex has already done it.
“Did you?” I gesture toward the laundry when I find Rex in the kitchen.
“Yeah,” he says. “Will gone?”
I nod.
“You didn’t have to,” I say.
“It’s okay,” Rex says. “You were helping him with his car. I can help you, right?”
I look around the kitchen. Rex has bread dough rising and something that smells heavenly is in the oven.
“Dinner will be ready in about an hour,” he says. “Why don’t you relax? Take a bath or something. I’m going to go to my workshop for a bit.”
My breath starts to come faster as I notice the salad dressing he’s made from scratch in the mustard jar on the counter. All I can hear is what Will just told me and Rex saying he can help me. It’s like there’s a screaming in my head that is Rex pulling the gate down, just like Will said. My heart is pounding so loud and so forcefully that I can feel it throbbing in my ears. I blink to try and wet my dry eyes, but they’re all prickly.
“Please don’t be all helpful!” I blurt out. “Don’t slam the fucking gate down and pull away!” I’m babbling. I can hear myself, but I can’t stop. I need, need, need to break through Rex’s unflappable calm.
“What?” Rex asks, puzzled, approaching me with arms out like you would a wild animal.
“Rex, Rex, please don’t!” I’m full-on panicking. My voice sounds incredibly loud even though I can feel that I’m almost whispering. I am begging Rex not to shut me out, not to give me help instead of himself, not to leave me, and he is staring at me like I’m out of my mind.
“Baby,” he says, “please. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, just calm down and talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Will said—” But I’m breathing too fast to explain. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to calm down, but all I see is that coffin, heaped with dirt, my white rose sliding over the edge of another grave, my brother clutching a bottle of pills, his fist connecting with my face. And all of it shrinks backward at only one thing: Rex. And I’m convinced I’m going to lose him.
“Daniel, Jesus,” Rex says.
He scoops me up and carries me into his bedroom. He puts me in bed and crawls in after me.
“Lie down and just breathe,” he says.
I try to breathe, but now the tears are coming too fast for me to hold them in. And this time, I know getting mad won’t do anything.
“Please don’t be helpful,” I gasp, kneeling on the bed.