Page 54 of Fear of Flying
Ah, that’s my boy! And who knows, maybe you’ll have such a nice time that you’ll want to go steady with her.
Yeah . . . yeah, maybe, Mom.
The familiar, dull ache settled back into his chest, the one that worked as kind of a shield to protect his heart from every casual and caring denial of who he was. She meant well. She was just worried. Feared for his safety. Wanted him to be happy.
Wanted him to be straight. Because it would be easier that way. Safer.
It almost fit—that shield. And Drew suspected that his heart would always be just a little too big for it now, broken and settled into this new shape.
He did the best he could to hide it and swallow it down, all of it, throughout catching up with Brian and Sherri and meeting his new niece, Madison. He managed to make it through dinner, smiling and laughing along with everyone. And it seemed like he was doing a fantastic job of not letting it show on his face, the sharp stabs of pain he felt inside—a newer kind of pain but already familiar, and terribly reminiscent of how it’d felt during Brian’s wedding.
But it was much too hard listening to his mom as she gushed about things. All the things that Drew would never do.
Oh, being a grandma is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!
Dad and I just have to plan a visit—we’ll go shopping and spoil my granddaughter rotten! She might be the only grandbaby I’ll get, unless you two are planning on more?
She didn’t know she was doing it, probably. It wasn’t intentional, this complete dismissal of the idea of him ever being a father. She didn’t mean anything by it, didn’t realize. But oh god, did it cut straight through him. He hadn’t even realized until just this moment how much he wanted to be a father.
And fuck, he was thankful dinner had been cleared and dessert was finished because he couldn’t be at that table anymore. As unobtrusively as he could, he’d excused himself from the dining room to “freshen up” but headed straight for the door to the backyard instead. He managed to make it to the porch and close the door behind him before he doubled over and let out a shuddering breath, then gulped in lungfuls of the chilly night air.
Drew made his way over to the porch railing and braced himself with both hands, looking out over the expanse of still-dormant grass in his parents’ backyard. The same backyard he’d grown up in, with the old tire swing hanging from the live oak tree and the sandbox where he and his brother had spent hours and hours playing with their Tonka bulldozers and excavators.
His grip tightened around the wood railing, and he let the roughness of its weathered surface bite into his palms. He needed to remind his dad to sand this down and put a new clear coat on it.
Though he tried to stop it, his mind jumped forward in time, the backyard before him transforming into a lush, spring green a handful of years in the future. Little Madison was running around and giggling and squealing with youthful glee. Maybe she’d be lucky and have a brother or sister to play with too, like he’d had growing up. He and Brian had had cousins, but Maddie wouldn’t have any.
Drew’s heart twisted painfully, this newly imagined future that he’d never have, one he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted until... He swallowed back against the lump in his throat. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt this much if he hadn’t met Zach, hadn’t started hoping and dreaming that it was even remotely possible.
He heard the creak of the old screen door behind him but didn’t turn around. He wasn’t sure he could survive it if it was his mother—he needed more space, more time. A small mewling sound and someone clearing his throat gave Drew instant relief, though the tiny gurgles from Madison made his heart ache in an entirely different way.
His brother’s boots made quiet knocks against the wooden planks of the porch, his hesitant steps followed by the muted thwack of the screen door falling shut. “Uh, want—want some company?”
Drew closed his eyes and took a deep breath before pushing off the railing and turning around to see Brian holding baby Maddie. “Sure,” he said, forcing a smile.
Brian nodded his head toward the old glider bench on the far side of the porch, and they walked over to it together and sat down. Drew reached up to rub at the back of his neck. He and Brian were... they weren’t not close, but they didn’t talk all that often, maybe once a month with a few scattered texts here and there.
Brian looked at Drew hesitantly, lifting his arms just slightly and holding the bundle of baby and blankets that was Maddie and her bottle out in Drew’s direction. “I thought you might want to...”
Drew’s heart stuttered, and he gave his brother a short nod, holding his arms out and hoping Brian wouldn’t notice his shakiness and change his mind. Drew had held her earlier when he’d first arrived, and while he’d been overwhelmed with the joy of meeting her, he’d felt completely inept. This, now, as Maddie whimpered up at the new face in front of her and furrowed her little brow so fiercely, this was only the second time Drew had ever held a baby.
Brian seemed to wait a beat for them to get settled, and then, just as Maddie’s face scrunched as if she might start to wail, Brian reached over to hand Drew her bottle. Her features smoothed again and her mouth opened automatically. Drew fumbled to take the bottle but managed to both hold Maddie and get the bottle in her mouth at the same time.
“Yeah, there, you got it. You’re a natural,” Brian said, the phrase rolling off his tongue as though he said it often. He probably did, and maybe he even meant it some of the time.
The last three words echoed in Drew’s head—You’re a natural—and a heavy sadness spread slowly through him and settled deep in his chest and in his gut. But when he looked down to see Maddie staring up at him with wide blue eyes, something else tugged at him too, a more intense feeling.
She looked so serious and pensive, like she was examining him and trying to figure him out while she sucked rhythmically at her bottle. He couldn’t help but smile, and a hint of laughter twitched and threatened at the corner of his mouth when he wondered if Maddie would figure him out before he figured himself out.
He wasn’t sure how long they sat and stared at each other, but it was a while before he turned his head to find Brian watching him. The warm smile on Brian’s face almost seemed a bit sad, especially with the crease of his brow and the sheen of tears in his eyes. Drew was sure he’d never seen his brother cry.
“What’s wrong?” Drew asked, glancing briefly at Maddie to make sure he still had the bottle to her mouth correctly.
Brian hitched a leg up onto the bench, shifting to face Drew a bit more, and he rested his arm along the back of the glider, which swayed gently from his movement. He shook his head slightly, as though to say nothing was wrong, but it was clear that wasn’t the whole truth.
Following Brian’s gaze out into the distance, Drew noticed the moon didn’t seem to be out tonight, at least not that he could see from the porch, but the stars shone brightly this far out in the country. And that one planet hung low and large in the sky—Mars? Jupiter? Venus?—he could never remember which.
He watched as Brian seemed to gather his thoughts, his eyes shimmering even more as a few stray tears slipped out. A feeling of anxiousness spread slowly through Drew’s chest as the silence continued, interrupted only by the sounds of Maddie’s suckling and the ever-present chorus of crickets.