My Brother, My Roommate, My Lover Ch. 02

I will be bluntly honest with you, and with myself. After the accident, I thought about Ed in a sexual way - briefly - but it was like an insane, impulsive, unwelcome thought that intruded on all that I knew to be appropriate and proper. I realized that Ed was devastated and so was I. We certainly didn't need to do anything to add any confusion to the circumstances and, if we ever re-connected, I wanted to be sure that it was for the right reasons. So . . . I quickly banished any thoughts about being anything other than a supportive sister.

The funeral in Atlanta was massive. There must have been at least 500 people in attendance. I met so many people that I got tired of shaking hands and trying to think of things to say to strangers.

The wake at Ed's house seemed to last forever but, mercifully, it came to an end. When the last mourner left, we packed our suitcases and drove to Jacksonville. We had already made some arrangements by phone so we were able to have our parents' funeral two days later.

The funeral in Jacksonville was much like the one in Atlanta, except that the people in attendance were older. We received the same condolences, the same meaningless words that people offer when they don't know what to say, and I shook hands with another several hundred strangers.

We held the wake at Mom and Dad's house and at least these people knew not to stay too long. It was over within a few hours. At last, everything was concluded and Ed and I finally had some time to ourselves. As soon as I closed the front door and turned to face Ed, I started crying, and then he started crying. When you've cried so many tears, sooner or later it seems that you get to the end of the tears inside you and you just can't cry anymore until something inside gets recharged. So we both cried until we couldn't cry any more.

A few days later, we talked about handling the affairs. I had stayed in Jacksonville after college so it was logical for me to handle winding up the affairs for Mom and Dad. Ed had already announced his intention to return to Atlanta the next day and he planned to begin handling things for his wife and kids. Ed was saying that he didn't want to stay in the house he and Melanie had shared and he had no idea what he wanted to do. Fortunately, he was a partner at his law firm and he could take an extended leave because his partners were extremely nice and understanding people.

In the next week, I learned that Dad had a life insurance policy with a death benefit of $500,000 and Mom had a $100,000 policy. Their mortgage had been retired several years earlier and their home was worth approximately $350,000. The investment account and the death benefit from his pension added another $400,000 to the pot. Altogether, the assets which would be distributed to Ed and me totaled about $1,350,000.

Ed and I talked on the telephone every night. He had life insurance on Melanie and his mortgage life insurance covered both him and Melanie, so the mortgage had been paid off. Ed had decided - far too quickly, I warned him - to sell the house and to sell his interest in the law practice to his partners. He wanted to leave Atlanta and, as he said, the sooner, the better. He had no plan on where he wanted to go or what he wanted to do, but he was quite certain that he didn't want to stay in Atlanta.

I invited Ed to come back down to Jacksonville to stay with me but he politely declined the offer. Instead, he gave me a power of attorney to sell his house for him and he booked an around-the-world cruise. I expressed my concern to Ed and he responded to me in very candid terms.

"Look, we both know that both of us are depressed but you don't need to worry about me being suicidal. I'm sad and lonely, but I know that my life isn't over and I have enough faith in a guiding force to believe that I was left here for a reason. I just need some time alone. You might not hear from me for a while but that doesn't mean that I'm mad or upset with you or anything. I just need some time alone."

He gave me some instructions regarding a few pending matters in Atlanta that I might need to handle and then our telephone call ended. I received an e-mail the next, confirming some of the details he had given me about the sale of the house, and giving me his travel itinerary.

Now I felt alone. The one person in the world who might possibly understand me was gone.

* * *

I returned to my job as a microbiologist at the state department of health lab but I can't say that life returned to normal. When you lose both parents, a sister-in-law, and two nephews in one accident, life never returns to normal.

About four weeks later, my phone rang.

"Hey, Lizi. It's Ed. I just got back from my cruise," said the voice that I instantly recognized.

"Ed, it's so great to hear your voice. Where are you?" I asked.

"I'm down in Port Canaveral but I won't be here very long. Listen, we visited England and I got really intrigued by the fact that so many of our ancestors came from there but I know almost nothing about the country, so I've booked a flight to London that leaves tomorrow."

"What?" I said in a voice that clearly communicated my anger and disappointment.

"Lizi, I'm not ready to deal with anything here. You've gotta trust my instincts on this. I am not trying to abandon you and I certainly don't feel anything negative towards you. You've been great through all of this, and . . . well, I'm just not ready to face anything. I'm not sure how long I'll be in England but I'll stay in touch. I promise I'll call at least once a week, okay?"

I had no bargaining power in dealing with Ed, at least not on this subject, so of course I agreed. What else could I do?

We talked a bit longer and then said our goodbyes. Now I felt even more alone than before.

* * *

True to his word, Ed called one week later. He was travelling around England, stopping in small villages as well as some of the larger cities. I begged him to come home and he politely told me that he wasn't ready and he would let me know when that changed . . . so I took a hint and stopped bugging him about it.

After a few more weeks, Ed was in Blackpool. He had met some local attorneys who had encouraged him to study for admission to the English bar and he was considering the possibility. I was devastated . . . but I didn't say a word. I wanted to go visit him, but I had used all of my leave from my job.

The next week, Ed said that it would take him about six months to prepare for the bar exam. Six months! The only reason to spend six months preparing to take that bar exam was because Ed was apparently considering living in England on a permanent basis. It felt like I was losing my brother all over again. I might as well just lie down on the beach and let the waves carry me out to sea.

The following week, when Ed called, I didn't answer the phone. I was still hurt and shocked by the possibility of Ed moving to England. He tried calling again that night but I just couldn't bear the idea of talking with him; I had been abandoned by the only man I had ever loved, my last remaining family, my closest companion.

* * *

Ed sent several e-mails asking if everything was okay and I tried to explain that the distance, the loss, the abandonment, all of it just hurt me too much and I, too, needed time. He acquiesced to my request and the phone calls stopped.

I didn't hear from Ed for the next two years.

* * *

It was 3:00 pm on a Friday. Everyone else was looking forward to the weekend, but not me. I lived alone, I wasn't dating anyone at the time, and I actually looked forward to going to work every day. If I wasn't dating anyone (and my last date had been before the accident,) weekends were no fun for me. I had female friends but they were all married. I got invited to parties, cookouts, etc., but being the only single person at those events was awkward. I had nothing planned for the weekend.

I had an e-mail notification and looked at it, expecting to find some request for a lab report that was "urgently" needed. Instead, I saw that it was from Ed. I read his e-mail, his brief email, several times. "Lizi, I am here. Please meet me for dinner at 7:30 pm at La Mer at Ponte Vedra. Ed."

I am the eternal optimist. Perhaps I am like Charlie Brown, you know, 'come kick the football, Charlie Brown!' Maybe I was just setting myself up to get hurt once again, but I had hopes that Ed was home to stay and that we might finally be able to explore a relationship together. Enough time had passed. The grief was still present but the edges were not as sharp, it had somewhat receded out of the foreground and into the background. I was ready to move forward with my life. I hoped that Ed was, too.

I left work early and went home to get ready. Every girl has that little black dress that represents her desire to non-verbally communicate her seductiveness in an understated fashion, you know, sexy but not slutty. I have one of those dresses. It is a form fitting, sleeveless, silky thing that comes to about three inches above my knees. I also have pearls that compliment it perfectly. I still have my shape and, when I am dressed in my little black dress, I think I send a message: I am not some slut who you could ever fuck for a one night stand, but I am a classy lady and you would be lucky to make love to me. That was the look I wanted to project.

I arrived at La Mer promptly at 7:30. Actually, I arrived a little bit early, because it is a long drive from my house and I didn't want to take a chance on being late. I arrived early and then sat in the parking lot for ten minutes. I didn't want to appear over-eager, and . . . I was aware of the possibility that I was reading way too much into Ed's sudden appearance. And, sometimes, I tend to overthink things.

I entered the restaurant and the hostess informed me that Ed had called and said he would be about five minutes late. She then seated me at a table next to the window and I waited. I admired the ocean view and I pondered the possibility of buying a condo down here at the beach. At 7:35, Ed appeared.

"Well, hello stranger," I said. I stood and Ed gave me a hug and then a light kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, beautiful sister," Ed responded.

"I'm pleasantly surprised . . . and so glad to see you," I said. "It's been . . ."

"Two years," Ed interrupted, "two years, and that was enough time. Too long. It's great to see you, Lizi."

We made small talk and ordered a pre-dinner cocktail. I sipped on a Cosmo while Ed nursed a straight Scotch - Glen Livet. I wanted to ask Ed about his personal life and how he was doing with his grief but I also didn't want to push him on those subjects, so I let him control the direction of the conversation.

Ed had passed his bar exam and been working as a barrister in Blackpool. I was getting impatient with the small talk so I asked if he had time for a social life outside of work.

"Very little," he admitted. "I wasn't interested in dating at all for the first year and a half but then I started thinkin' about it. None of the ladies I met measured up to the standards I had, so, if you want me to just get to the answer you want to hear, I have not had a sexual partner in the past two years."

"Ed, I wasn't tryin' to pry," I began.

"No, no, no, you were tryin' to pry but that's okay. You're my sister and, once upon a time, you were my lover, so you're entitled to pry. And, anyway, I want to know the same thing about you. So, I could ask you seventeen questions all dancin' around the same subject, or you could just tell me."

"What?" I feigned innocence. "Oh, no, I haven't slept with anyone, and it's been longer than two years for me."

"So, tell me about your job," he said. Obviously, Ed wasn't ready to talk about intimate subjects.

We talked about my job, my dog, the neighborhood, my friends, and anything else that wasn't really important. Ed told me about his job, Blackpool, bland English food, and silly English customs and traditions. We continued our conversation after dinner arrived but the subjects remained rather innocuous.

We both passed on dessert and Ed paid the check. As we stood, he told me that he was staying at the hotel across the street from La Mer. I was hurt. Why in the world would he come to town and not stay with me?

Before I could become immersed in this latest slight and contemplate how hurtful this night might become, Ed said, "It's still kind of early and the beach here is beautiful. Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Sure," I said. Maybe I was a glutton for punishment but I had to know why Ed had returned to Jacksonville and, so far, I don't think he had really told me.

We walked around the restaurant and down a walkway to the sand. I took off my shoes and put them in my purse. We continued until we were close to the water and then we turned and headed south, walking side by side.

"Lizi, I'm sorry if I was a bit abrupt in our conversation. I thought about what might happen tonight, you know, tried to anticipate what might happen, and I thought I was ready, but . . . I don't know, when you were asking about me dating, it just . . ."

"Ed, I'm so sorry if you really felt that I was pryin', but you know . . .you absolutely know that I want to know. After all . . .." I trailed off, not sure of what I should say.

"You stopped answering my calls and then you didn't want to hear from me so I thought you were pissed off and maybe wanted to move on with your life, so . . .. I don't know what to think." As Ed finished his last sentence, he extended his hand towards me and I offered him my hand. We continued walking, hand in hand.

"It feels good, holding your hand," he said to me. I smiled.

He continued, "About a week ago, I had a dream. Actually, it was a nightmare. It was the accident again but, this time, you were in the car, too. And when I got to the hospital, they told me that you were dead, along with everybody else. That's when I woke up."

"I still get nightmares, too, sometimes, like I'm holdin' Mom's hand to keep her from fallin' over a cliff and then she loses her grip and I see her fallin'," I said, trying to offer some sign of empathy.

'Usually, I wake up and curse the nightmares and wonder if they'll ever go away. But I didn't curse my nightmare this time. I realized that it was a sign . . . or maybe even a warning. Lizi, there's some things I've never told you before that you need to know. First, I loved Melanie, but I wasn't in love with her, and she knew it. Melanie was a wonderful wife and a wonderful mother and I loved her. She was a beautiful woman and I'm a fool for not feelin' more for her, but it always felt like there was something between us that just wasn't right. Melanie was very perceptive about those things and she knew something was up. I thought that she suspected something about the relationship between you and me and then she started askin' questions. I respected her too much to lie to her so I told her the truth. Her answer was that she liked me, she respected me, and she was in love with me, but she felt that she deserved to be loved by someone who felt the same passion for her, so . . .."

"But, at the beach house, you said that you had never told her," I interjected.

"I lied. I'm sorry, but I wanted to protect you. I didn't wanna make you feel awkward being around her," he paused, collecting his thoughts. "For the most part, we were contented and we both put on an act, especially when we were around the family. I felt guilty for marrying her because I knew she deserved more than what I gave her. Then, just a few weeks before the accident, Melanie told me that we either needed to start marriage counseling or she wanted a divorce. We had the two boys and I didn't want a divorce, I didn't want what a divorce would do to them, so I agreed to start counseling, but I knew that therapy would not cure me of the problem."

"What problem, Ed?"

"You, Lizi. You're the problem. That night at the beach house, I meant every word that I said to you. Back in college, I couldn't face the possibility of us having a life together because I thought that would mean a lifetime of being outcasts and I couldn't stand the idea of hurting Mom and Dad. So I ran away from you but I couldn't run away from my heart. You were the problem. When I had that nightmare last week, I realized that you could have been in that car and I wouldn't ever see you again. Or you could be in a car wreck tomorrow, or . . .. you never know when today is the last day for you or someone you love, so I finally realized that I needed to come back and tell you. Lizi, I love you and I am in love with you and I don't want to live without you. I know that I fucked up and I'm sorry. If I could go back and do it again, it'd be different." Ed had a look of expectation on his face. He was waiting for my reply and I took a few seconds to choose my words.

"I should slap you," I said. "You don't know how many times I've been hurt by you running away or ignoring me. I've wasted most of my life pining for you, longing for the unattainable, waitin' for somebody or something that I eventually realized would probably never happen. I should slap your head off and feed it to the crabs . . .," and then I softened my voice, "but I'm not gonna do that. When you love someone, you always find room in your heart for forgiveness so . . . if you're smart, you'll kiss me before I change my mind." I stood still, waiting for Ed to accept my invitation.

He stepped forward until he was at an intimate distance. "Lizi, if you will have me, I will never, ever run away again. Never." He then leaned down and placed his lips on mine. His arms pulled my body into his and his tongue pushed between my lips. Years of waiting for this moment had resulted in a pent up store of desire and I felt an urgent need to be with the love of my life. I wanted our bodies to be connected, I wanted to satisfy his passion and I wanted him to satisfy my lustful hunger.

We broke the kiss and Ed asked, "Can you spend the night with me?"

"I was hopin' you'd ask," I smiled at him.

"Do you need to go home to take care of your dog?" Ed asked.

"No, I dropped Jack at the vet's this morning for his annual shots. When I got your email, I called the vet and asked them to board him overnight."

"I'm glad," Ed answered. "I want you all to myself tonight."

We turned around and walked back to La Mer and then to the hotel where Ed had checked in.

"So why in the hell did you check in to a hotel when you could have stayed with me?" I asked.

"I wasn't sure you would even show up for dinner," Ed explained. "Invitin' myself to stay with you seemed a bit presumptuous, ma'am."

"Well, you can check out in the morning," I responded. "We'll spend the rest of the time at my place."

We took the elevator to the third floor and quickly found our way to Ed's room. He hung out the 'do not disturb' sign.

"Before we do anything, I need to make sure of one very big ground rule. You can pull my clothes off and do whatever you want to my body as long as we are behind a locked door and no one else is present. But . . . I am never sharing you with anyone else, never again. Not Clarissa, not anyone. Never. Agreed?"

"Well, Clarissa was a real hot girl," Ed started, obviously trying to tease me, but my facial expression told him that this was no time for perhaps well-intended but obviously misguided humor. "But, I want you all to myself and I don't need Clarissa or anyone else to make me feel like a man, so . . . agreed." He paused, then continued. "It's been a long time. As much as I want you, if you're not ready for this, we don't have to . . .."

As he started that sentence, I knew where he was going and it was utter nonsense. I had waited far too long for this moment and I wasn't about to wait any more. I knew how to bring an end to that discussion.