Dindi Pt. 04

I took my camera and focused my lens on the two of them laughing and burying their hands in the wet sand. If only to prove Morena right when she called me a weirdo later.

****

"So, you in looove."

The thing about Charlotte is that she's the youngest. Max and I made her believe she was a princess who was never wrong. Now she was 29 years old and she still believed that.

"Don't let her hear you say that." I retorted.

Morena had the good fortune of attracting the attention of my nieces and nephews. They followed her around like she was a walking candy shop. Surprisingly, she handed them well. Easy-peasy. She had said when I asked her if she needed help. All five of them were down at the beach while I helped Charlotte with the mess my birthday party had made.

"I like her. She unburdened me of my children." Charlotte said.

"She's good with them, right?" I mused, smiling to myself.

"Ow, big brother." Charlotte's elbow connected with my ribs. "Thinking of making a few babies yourself?"

"Fuck, no." I was quick to dismiss that theory. I didn't even know how to keep a girlfriend, who's to say have children.

"Ah, you're right. Don't have them. They ruin your life."

I pulled my sister in for a quick hug. Charlotte was an incredible woman. She was married too young for my liking, but she raised her children with the necessary measures of devotion and discipline. Unlike my mercurial relationship with Max, Charlotte and I always got along very well. She visited me frequently. Also, she knew me better than I would have liked. Her advices were the ones I made a point of listening to.

"I'm serious, Travis." She said, absentmindedly, while she put the rest of the chocolate cake in the fridge. "She's nice. I think she's good for you. I mean, look at where you are right now! Last time you were in my kitchen I was pregnant with Tessa."

Charlotte had been pregnant when our father died. I hadn't stepped foot in this place since his funeral.

"I like her too, Lotte." I admitted when she came to stand by my side by the kitchen sink.

"But?" My sister had a way of making me talk. I was her guinea pig. She used the abilities her degree in psychology had given her on me.

"Some idiot hurt her. Now I'm paying the price for it." My surprise when Morena had told about that James guy...I would never have guessed she'd been engaged. Seven years of her life invested in another person while I surprised my whole family with two and a half months of uninterrupted sex with the same woman.

"Ah. She has trust issues." Charlotte mused.

"I guess you could say that."

"What a pair you two make. She with trust issues, you with daddy issues..."

"Charlotte." I chided her.

She'd been too young to understand what had really happened with our family when dad left. Actually, Max and I made our best to shield her from it all. Where I thought of my father with regretfulness and remorse, she thought of him as her hero.

"How d'you meet her?" She asked handing me another plate to dry.

"I just...I saw her." I replied bashfully. She'd give me hell if I told her the whole story.

"That's obvious, Travis."

I blew out a breath of annoyance. Better if I just told her already. I would have to put up with her shit either way. "I saw her. She was beautiful, so I went running after her. I took her picture, without asking for permission, scared the fuck out of her. She left without even telling me her name."

I turned to see Charlotte eyeing me warily. "Jeez. What a pervert."

"Shut up."

"How did you find her again?" Charlotte's enthusiasm was almost tangible. "Oh, come on! I have three children, indulge me with little a romantic story."

Charlotte was a champion. She had our mother's brown eyes, the skin under them stained purple with lack of sleep. She had three children who were barely a year apart. Her days were dedicated to raising them. I had no idea how she did it.

"Her best friend is a makeup artist." I continued, indulging her at her own request. "We move in the same circles. She is living in his apartment, so I gave this party at my loft. Invited him hoping she'd come with."

"And she did!" She offered.

"No."

"No? How the hell did you find her, then?" Charlotte was going to say the same thing Morena did. Same thing I knew to be true. I was a weirdo, and a pervert. But had they no eyes? Couldn't they see how beautiful she was? I'm a hot blooded American man...

"Well...I had this picture of her, right?"

"That you took without her permission." She concluded.

"Right. That's the one." I confirmed. "So, I had it in my bedroom."

"What the fuck, Travis!" She shrieked.

"Lotte, come on! Let me fucking finish!"

Charlotte was laughing so hard I felt like pushing her, the way I did when I was 10 and she took my toys without asking if she could first.

"So, I had this picture -shut up, Charlotte- in my bedroom. Somehow her friend, George, saw it and called her. She came over. We talked. We went on a date the next day. Now here we are."

However old you become, your siblings will always make you feel like you're still twelve.

"Man, you're lucky you're so handsome, Travis. I mean, what other excuse would she have to be with you, considering you're such a pervy stalker?"

"Fuck you, Lotte."

"Did you really put her picture in your bedroom? Really? I mean you didn't even know her...Has it been this hard to get a woman to sleep with you? You have to stalk them?" Another thing about Lotte: When she decided to annoy you, she could really do it.

"I have hundreds of pictures of hundreds of women, Charlotte. I'm a fucking photographer, you know."

"Errr, but in your bedroom? What was it for, jerking off?"

"That's it. I'm leaving. We're not talking anymore." I made a move for the door before I turned her children into orphans.

"Oh, no, no. Come back here! I'm your sister! It's my job to annoy you. I'm sorry. Don't go." She grabbed me by the arm. "Come on. You're never here. Don't go. I'll stop. Promise." She kissed her crossed fingers.

No wonder Charlotte and Morena had gotten along. Both of them liked to tease me.

"Seriously, now." I darted her a warning glare and she put her palms up. "I just want to know. She's pretty and really nice, that's true. But what is it, Travis? What about this girl has you so stupid?"

How could I explain something that made no sense even to myself? It was a cliché, yes, but my argument was that Morena was different. She wasn't like any other woman I'd ever been with, and not just because she had rejected me at first, when no woman had done it before. She made me feel different. Better. She just felt real. Everything about her was unfeigned. She was always herself, always honest. She never just said the things she thought I wanted to hear, and yet, she made me laugh all the time. Plus, she was stunning, smart and confident. Why wouldn't I want to get my hands on her?

"I don't know. Lotte. At first, I just thought she was beautiful. I wanted her. Now I just really like who she is, and I like who I am around her."

"Oh, Travis." Charlotte put a hand on my shoulder offering me one of her typical knowing smirks. "You're so in love, big brother. You better watch yourself. Next thing, you'll have more babies with this girl than I do."

"Fuck off, Charlotte." I threw the damp cloth I was drying the dishes with on her face and turned my back to leave.

"Hey," She called on my back. "Whatever your reasons, I'm glad you're home." She said.

"Me too, Lotte. Me too." I said, then went down to the beach to make sure Morena was still alive.

****

MORENA

I never fancied myself the kind of woman who wanted to have children. Not too many, anyway. When I thought I'd be living the rest of my life as James's wife I had planned on having one baby at least. But three? When they were barely a year apart? Charlotte deserved a prize.

"So, basically, Charlotte is your George equivalent?" I asked Travis. "You love her like she's your third arm, but she is as inconvenient as one."

He flashed me a wide smile of his foamy toothpaste mouth. "That's the best description of Charlotte I've ever heard. My sister is a pain, but I can't live without her."

"Oh, I can relate to that." The closest person I had to an actual sibling was George. If Travis loved his sister half as much as I loved Gee, than I could understand his affection for her.

I liked Charlotte. A lot, really. She was like a mother bear, to her children and her brothers. She looked tired though, and seemed to have been elated I'd taken her children away from her for a few hours. Max was another story. He seemed to be nice enough and Travis clearly loved him very much too, but I had felt some tension between them. Even so, I thought it better not to ask anything about that. Mrs. Keegan, however...Well, she hated me. Fuck her, then.

"Are you ready?" Travis asked, ripping me out of my wonders.

"Yeah." I said.

The aura around the house was a bit gloomy. The day marked the 5th anniversary of his father's death. He had decided not to go to the cemetery with his family. We had stayed behind, looking after the kids. To his mother's utter disappointment he chose to go alone. Or rather, alone with me.

"You should go with your family, Travis." She had said.

"Mom, please. I'm here. Don't ask too much of me." He had ended the discussion with that, but Mrs. Keegan darted me an accusatory look before leaving. As if I had anything to do with anything. That family was fucked before I was even aware of Travis's existence.

At first, I had suggested he should go alone, but he insisted I go with him. "I'd like you to be there." He'd said.

So we were going to visit his father's grave. Together.

In truth I hadn't really stopped to think about the consequences of our talk. He'd asked me to stay. I'd said yes, but what did it mean? Was I his girlfriend? Because even if we didn't call me that, I felt like his girfriend. Specially since I had agreed to behave as such.

Did I even remember how to be someone's girlfriend? Was I even good at it?

Clearly I was shit based on James's idea of one.

"Come on." Travis took my hand and I tensed, unaccustomed to the gesture. He noticed it, but ignored me, pulling me down the stairs with him.

****

Travis cut through the graveyard, stepping on the vividly green grass and going around every gravestone that wasn't his target. I walked behind him, guarding a certain distance between us. Whenever I went to visit my father, even with my mother, I liked to say my hellos on my own.

He came to a halt, crouching in front of a white marble gravestone. He lay a hand on it, and I chose to stay behind until he needed me.

A lump found its way inside my throat. I couldn't tell why, but I felt an overwhelming urge to cry. I clutched at the M pendant on my throat. I had only shared 9 years of my life with my father. Travis had 30, half of which were wasted in bitterness. What I wouldn't give to have more time with my Pappa. I barely remembered him. I only knew he had the kindest eyes. Clear blue, just like Travis's.

When my gaze went back to where Travis was, I saw him sitting on the grass with his elbows resting on his knees, his head bent down. He seemed so lost that my feet took me towards him.

I touched his shoulder; he didn't even look up when he reached a hand to squeeze mine. I simply sat by his side on the damp grass, just in case he needed a hug, a few comforting words, anything I could provide.

We sat together for a long moment; in which time I took notice of the little oval picture in the gravestone. It could've been Travis, if it weren't for the dark hair. His father looked exactly like him, or rather he looked like his father. I imagined it couldn't be easy to be so angry with a person who had your face. The eyes were the same too. Uncanny, hooded, and the brightest sky blue. Below the picture it read: Marvin T. Keegan. Beloved husband and father.

Travis moved the arm I had my head resting against. He lifted it and wrapped it around my shoulders. I pressed my ear to his chest, listening to the steady, strong rhythm of his heart.

"Thank you for being here." I heard the words gravelly echoing inside him.

"You're welcome." My voice was small, weepy.

I wasn't doing anything. I was just there. Just sitting there. I didn't say anything supportive. I didn't do anything to help him through it. I was just there. and that was enough for him. More than enough, actually.

"Morena?" Travis called me by my actual name, noticing the shift in my breathing.

I struggled with him when he put his hands on my face. Of course I lost that fight.

"What's wrong?" He asked when he saw the stubborn tears that were stronger than my will to keep them away.

He brushed away the fat tears on my cheeks, but they kept coming. I felt so stupid I wanted to slap myself. Not even I could explain what the bloody hell was happening to me. I hated crying.

"It's nothing. Just nonsense." I whinnied.

He pulled my head to his chest again, cradling me. His fingers worked soothing patterns in my hair.

"What do you tell your father when you visit him?" He asked me. "I've never done this before."

I straightened myself, sitting cross-legged beside him. "Well," I began, snivelling. "I always tell him about the important things to me. The things that make me happy. New things I learn. Crazy things my mom has done lately. Just ordinary things."

"Mmm."

He held his shins, bending his long torso slightly forward looking, for that moment, like a 17 year old boy again.

"Hey, Dad. It's me. Travis." He began awkwardly, turning to give me a sheepish smile. I nodded in approval, urging him to go on. There was no right way to do this. "Uh, I know I haven't been here before. I'm sorry for that." He made a pause, gazing up at the sky, blue meeting blue. Then ran a shaky hand down his face. "I'm sorry for a lot of things, actually. But, hey, there's no point crying over spilled milk, uh?" At this he chanced a look my way. "I wanted to tell you that I finally came home. Mom was really glad, you should've seen her. My life is going really well, too. I met a girl." I held in a breath. Neither Travis nor I looked at each other. "She's fantastic, Dad. So beautiful it makes me dizzy. I only pray she doesn't come to her senses and dumps me, because I'm crazy about her. She's the reason I'm here today. Charlotte is such an incredible woman. It's a pity you didn't get to meet little Tess. She's a joy, and, uh, Max and I, we..." Travis trailed off, letting out a choked laugh. The kind meant to disguise tears. "We're getting there. He's got more of you in him than I. It's not easy, but we're getting there. We'll be fine." He took in a long breath through his nose before speaking. "I miss you. I'm sorry I wasted so much of our time. I promise you I'll be back soon."

Silence settled down around us. I didn't dare move, I couldn't tell if Travis wanted to be touched.

"How was that?" He asked after a few minutes, using a strained voice. He had his head down between his knees, hidden from view. Still, I could hear the tears on his voice. Why must men always try to be so tough?

I let my finger trap a loose strand of hair behind his ear. That same stubborn blond strand of hair that never stayed tied behind his head with the rest of his golden mane.

"It was good. Cheesy, but good." I said, making him laugh, to my relief. "You should've heard me telling my dad about my crush on Miles Griffith when I was fifteen, though."

Travis brought his head up laughing loudly, even though the tears running down his face and disappearing in his beard were obvious.

"Did Miles Griffith like you back?" He asked.

I was more than happy to go on joking to keep him smiling. I've never been good with crying people. Especially a grown man. His open vulnerability was alien to me.

"Oh, no. He friendzoned me so hard I couldn't even see straight." I said.

"Stupid Miles Griffith. Will never know what he missed." He shifted closer to me, still laughing, and wrapped his long arms around me once more. His beard felt wet on my shoulder. It prickled my skin, causing me to shiver. I just settled there in his arms, absorbing his warmth.

"Thank you, Dindi." He said, yet again.

I responded by holding him tighter, breathing in the scent of his hair and just melting into his embrace. We stayed that way for what felt like forever, until one of us -I couldn't tell each one- moved and we got up to leave. He said goodbye to his father and this time, when we made our way back to the house, I held his hand.

****

My little bag was packed, I had already called George to tell him I'd be home in a few hours, all that remained was for Travis to decide when we'd leave. He had asked me to sleep in his loft, but I refused. I needed to go home. George was beginning to get mad at me, saying he never saw me. Also, I needed some time to myself. The weekend had been too heavy. A day or two away from Travis would help me clear my mind. Besides, I reminded him, I had promised him I'd stay. Whatever that meant.

"Take good care of my brother, Morena. He's a big baby. He's never been in love before." Charlotte had said when I said goodbye to her.

In love? Was Travis in love with me?

I went down the stairs to meet Max, who was waiting to drive us to the bus station.

"Morena." He greeted me with a wide smile. "Ready to go?"

"Yes. All set. Just waiting for Travis." I said.

"Oh" Max rolled his eyes. The ones he shared with his father and brother. "He's saying goodbye to mom. I don't think she'll ever let him go."

Mrs. Keegan's sobs were clearly audible coming from the kitchen.

"Come back soon, will you?" She said to Travis.

"I will, mom. I promise."

Their voices were easily carried to where Max and I stood in the living room, waiting.

Travis finally emerged. "Come on. Let's go." He said.

I threw my bag over my shoulder and had my body half turned towards the door when Mrs. Keegan called from her kitchen.

"Travis, can you come back here, my darling?"

He offered me an apologetic look and marched back to the kitchen. Max just shifted his weight from feet to feet, checking his watch nervously. I tried my best to hide my anxiety to go back home when, clear as day, Max and I heard his mother ask Travis:

"Son, are you sleeping with that black girl?"

****