Jonah looks concerned. “Why don’t you just go home? I’m sure your family would love to see you. And you can check in on your friend? What was his name? Tiger?”
“Bear,” Otter says and suddenly wants to go home and look at my picture. He’s moved it from the side of his bed to his closet because he didn’t think Jonah would understand. He hasn’t told Jonah what happened between him and me and doesn’t think he ever will. He knows that if he can just give it enough time, he could love Jonah. He believes he really could.
“Bear, then,” Jonah says, waving his hand dismissively in a way that irritates Otter. “You should see all of them. After all, it’s Christmas.”
He’s watching Jonah walk away into the terminal, when he decides that Jonah is right. He’s been gone for far too long. He hurries home and buys a plane ticket online. It’s expensive and isn’t until Christmas Day, but it’s worth it. He takes my picture out of the closet and sits on the floor and stares at it until the heaviness that is always in his heart loosens, just a little bit. He feels like he’s cheating on Jonah, but he can’t help it. Being with Jonah has made him feel like he’s cheating on me, even though I was never his to begin with. He thinks he’s a monster.
As he drives to the airport, he’s filled with nervous excitement. As he’s on the plane, he’s filled with quiet dread. As the plane lands, he’s filled with large doses of panic. As he drives the rental car, he’s absolutely terrified. As he pulls into the driveway and sees my car, he’s about to pass out. As he opens the kitchen door and sees me alone, he thinks it looks like I’ve been waiting for him. He can’t help but grin. He doesn’t hesitate. He drops his bag and rushes quickly to me and wraps his arms around me. He inhales and feels my body against his, and he feels my arms start to rise up around him, and he’s already planning in his head to move back, and he doesn’t understand how in God’s name he had left in the first place. He knows I am still dating Anna, and he knows he’ll never have me the way he wants, but at least he can be near me. He thinks it’s all going to be okay. Then I pull away from him, and it’s like a kick to the balls, and he doesn’t know what to do.
He follows me into the living room and tries to think of things to say. By the time he’s settled on something sort of witty, he’s in the living room, and his parents are standing with happy surprise, wrapping their arms around him. Creed stands up and pounds his back happily. Ty jumps up, and Otter catches him in outstretched arms and spins him around. Otter looks at me, but I’m not looking at him. My jaw is tense and my brow furrowed, and so many things run through his mind, and he can’t focus clearly. Throughout the night, he asks me questions that I ignore or answer to someone else. Eventually he stops and just looks at me. No one else notices anything wrong. Otter thinks it’s his fault that I’ve become so cold. It’s his fault I’ve changed.
Throughout the week, he feels like he’s on a roller coaster and can’t get off. He wakes in the mornings, sure this is going to be the day that he will get to see me. He goes to bed at night dejected. The morning comes, and it starts all over. He sees Anna when she comes over and is overjoyed to see Ty with her. He waits expectantly for me to follow, but I don’t. He doesn’t know then that he won’t see me again for another year and a half.
Two days later, he’s talking with Jonah on the phone. Jonah is happy Otter decided to go home for the holidays. Jonah tells him he can’t wait to see him. Otter tells him it is cold and raining in Seafare. Jonah tells him how much he’s missed him. Otter tells him of a movie that he wants to see when he gets back. Jonah says he got him a Christmas present that he’s just going to love. Otter is about to tell him that he has to go, when he stops. He thinks again that he could love this man if he gave him the chance. He thinks that he could find some semblance of happiness if only he let himself. He tries to get back into the conversation, but he’s tired, and his heart is just not in it. Jonah hears something in his voice and asks him about it.
“It’s nothing. I’m just tired,” Otter says. He has a headache now.
“Did you get to see your friend?” Jonah asks. “The one with the kid?”
“Uh. Yeah. Yes, I did. A few days ago,” Otter says, wishing Jonah would stop talking.
“How is he?”
“Fine. He’s fine.” And I am, and he knows this, and it hurts him. Not because he wanted to see me suffer but because he can claim no credit to my current situation. After all, he’s the one that’s run away.
“Otter?” Jonah asks. “Did you….” He hesitates. “Did you ever date him?”
Otter laughs harshly. “No. He’s straight. Why would you ask that?”
“I don’t know. Anytime you’ve ever mentioned him, you get this weird tone in your voice, and I guess I just assumed.” Jonah sounds relieved, and Otter finds this strange. But he opens his mouth and suddenly finds himself about to tell him what really happened between us. He utters the first word but then stops. He blinks, confused. Why had he stopped? Why had he started? He thinks he won’t tell Jonah now because he doesn’t yet trust him completely. He thinks he won’t say anything because it doesn’t matter. But he knows the real reason in his heart. He doesn’t tell Jonah because it’s a secret, our secret, and to Otter, this is almost sickly romantic.
The day comes when Otter has to go home. He’s exhausted because he’s spent the entire previous night trying to compose a letter to me. There are different versions: some are pages and pages of ramblings and others are a sentence long. Nothing seems to come out right. Finally he comes up with something that he is satisfied with. It’s not perfect, but he doesn’t want to babble. It says:
I know you were hurt and have every reason to be angry, but just know that there hasn’t been a day that has gone by that I haven’t thought about you and Ty. Maybe that’s my punishment, knowing you are doing well and knowing I had nothing to do with it. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, for having done so great despite people breaking their promises to you.
It was good to see you, even if it was only for a moment. I am glad I got at least that. I’ve missed you, Papa Bear.
He thinks it says everything he wanted to say. He thinks it says everything he can’t. He thinks it sounds like a love letter. He thinks he wrote too much. He thinks he didn’t write enough. He thinks it sounds stupid. He thinks it will never get read.
He thinks it sounds like a good-bye.
He’s taking Ty home. Part of him wanted to leave a lot earlier so he could go upstairs and force me to talk to him. He doesn’t, scared of what I would say, scared of what he would say. He tells himself that he would not do that, not in front of Ty. So he waits, leaving late enough that it will give him time to drop Ty off and get to the airport. He watches Ty run up the stairs, and he lifts up my windshield wiper, putting the letter on my car. He pauses for a moment, willing me to fling open the door and run down the stairs and jump into his arms saying, “Please, Otter, please don’t leave me again. Please stay with me and promise to stay forever.” He shakes his head and gets back into the car and drives away. It’s raining. He turns in the car to the rental desk. He gets on a plane. The plane takes off. The plane lands. He gets off the plane. It’s sunny outside.
Eight days later, he and Jonah have their first fight. They’ve had a couple of petty squabbles in the past few months, but it’s always been resolved quickly. Otter’s in his bedroom, staring down at my picture, cursing himself for being so weak. Since he has come back from Oregon, that old familiar sadness has become ever more prevalent. He’s spent the last week alternating between hot and cold. He sighs again and doesn’t hear the front door open. He doesn’t hear Jonah until Jonah is in his room. He’s startled when Jonah says his name and feels his face redden as he hastily shoves the picture into his closet.
“What are you doing?” Jonah asks him. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”
Otter stands up and tries to smile, but it feels fake. “Nothing. I was just looking at… some stuff. What are you doing here?”
Jonah shrugs. “I got off early and wanted to see if you were hungry. I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up. The door was open when I got here. What picture was that?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?” Jonah asks, sounding concerned. “You look upset.”
“Let’s go eat,” Otter says, avoiding Jonah’s gaze. He shuts his closet door to Jonah and gives him a quick peck on the lips. “Give me a moment to wash up.” He walks past him and goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. He looks at himself in the mirror. His face is pale and his eyes are bloodshot. He tells himself he’s got to get it together. He tells himself to grow up. He washes his face. He brushes his teeth. He fixes his hair. When he’s done, he looks better, but he doesn’t feel better.
He walks out of the bathroom and freezes when he sees Jonah standing in front of his closet. The door is open, and my picture is in his hands. A dark feeling rises up through Otter then, at the sight of the picture in someone else’s hands. It’s a feeling of jealousy, of possessiveness. He almost runs to Jonah and snatches the picture out of his surprised hands. Jonah recoils when he sees the look on Otter’s face.