Siblings - Love and Loss

I wanted to write a story that dealt with the ramifications of infidelity for those outside the nuclear family. There is no sex in this story.

*****

My name is Tommy Callahan, and I'm a coward.

I've known what's been going on for over a year and I've done nothing. I guess that puts a lie to the canard that twins have similar personalities; my brother would have said something immediately. My best friend, Michael, would have as well. Hell, he would have marched over there and taken a stand the day he found out.

Cassie Lakter, nee Callahan, is my cousin. She lives across the street from me with her son and Phil, the husband she's been cheating on. I've known him since we were in our early teens. He would come down to the garage my father owned and hang out with my twin Jim, Michael, and me after hours as we worked on our cars. He's a great friend, an excellent father, and a clueless husband. The problem is that I love Cassie like a sister.

I know what I should do, what I should have already done. Like I said, I'm a coward. Now I'm in a position where I don't have a choice. I have to take a stand.

* * * * *

I had been waiting for the call since I saw the prick she was fucking leave through their back door and enter the woods that separates their homes. It took her almost ninety minutes to notice her son was gone. Ninety goddamn minutes since my heart stopped, watching that three-year old wandering so close to the edge of the street, while his mother was on her back for some loser who'd been best known for trying to reenact "frog baseball" in middle school.

Sitting in my recliner, I kneaded the muscles of my bad leg. Hurtling across the street to intercept Alex before he wandered into traffic had left the already aching muscles screaming, and I couldn't take a painkiller, not when I needed to keep an eye on the boy. I picked up the phone as soon as it started ringing.

"Tommy, Alex, he's missing! I can't find him. Alex is missing." She was frantic. Good.

Taking a deep breath, I started. "I have him, Cassie. He's with me."

"Oh, thank God. I'll be there in a minute."

"No." I practically growled the word. "Don't come here."

"You're bringing him back?"

"Aren't you going to ask me why I have him?"

She paused. "Sorry, I was out of my mind with worry. Good. He's with you." She hesitated again, voice querulous, doubtful, wondering. "Why don't you just bring him over? You can tell me when you get here." There was a feeling of dread underlying our conversation.

"Have you cleaned up yet, Cassie?"

"What? Cleaned up what?"

"Yourself, I guess. And wherever you were fucking John."

There was silence and then her voice was filled with restrained panic. "No, Tommy, I, I don't know what you think—"

"Don't you want to know where I found my Godson?" I struggled to keep my voice even. "While you were fucking your unemployed, redneck neighbor, your three-year-old ran toward the road, chasing an abandoned kite in the gutter. All he could see was the bright yellow body and the red tail. Traffic never slowed. Did you even hear the honking or screeching of tires as I was almost hit running across the street? Trying to save your son!"

Words came tumbling out, falling over each other. "No, no, Tommy. No, I'm so sorry. He was in his room, he... I'll come get him."

"I don't think so, Cassie. I'll wait for Phil to come get him."

I could hear tears in her voice and her ragged breath as she tried to continue. "Tommy, you can't tell Phil about this. You need to... Tommy, you're my cousin. I swear, it'll never happen again. No one knows, and I'll never see John again. It'll destroy us, Tommy. Please. No one needs to know."

"I've known since Christmas of last year. What makes you think no one else knows? You think Phil doesn't have any suspicions? None at all? Why's he been working out of town so often? He's a senior partner. He can get some first-year flunky for that. "

"What? No, no, you're wrong. He... Tommy, I'm begging you. Don't destroy my family. Don't, just, please. Phil doesn't need to know. It'll never happen again."

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Cassie. I've let it go for a year, but now I don't have a choice. Not once Alex was put at risk. I'm sorry."

Our conversation slowed to a halt. She was likely trying to find a way to convince me and all I could think of was Phil, what I owed him and how I let him down. Loyalty and love were like food and drink to me. They were what I lived on, what sustained me, and I had sacrificed one for the other. In the darkest times of my life, Phil stood at my side.

I don't think there was a time when my closest friends didn't know I was gay, just like I knew that they were into girls. It was different than the nineties, the eighties or, God forbid, the seventies. I wasn't at risk, or at least the same risk, as gay men and women were then. That doesn't mean that there weren't times when bigotry spoke louder than rationality.

There were three occasions when I was a teenager when words and taunts weren't enough, and someone thought it would be fun to beat the crap out of the gay kid. I guess the third time was the charm, because I was never bothered after that. It didn't matter how many guys they had with them, I immediately had my brother, Michael, and Phil at my side and we never, ever backed down. Michael almost killed one of them the third time and word got around. My femur was broken in two places and I needed six surgeries in three years, but no one bothered me again.

I know how lucky I was and still am. I had friends and family that supported me. Many didn't. Things could have been very different. Do I stand with my cousin or with the man who's had my back since we were teens? I've struggled with that for thirteen months and just chose not to choose. I'm a coward, but I no longer have the luxury of not choosing.

"Just stay home, Cassie. I'll text Phil at five and have him come pick up Alex."

Her sobbing grew louder and her voice less distinct. "Tommy, please. It'll kill us. Please. I'm coming over."

"I love you, Cassie, but you're not welcome in my house right now. I've fed Alex and I'll keep an eye on him. He'll be fine. He's safe and cared for. You know that."

"No, I'm coming for my son."

"Then bring the cops and Child Protective Services, 'cause that's the only way you're getting him and if I see you coming across the street, I'll call Phil immediately."

"How can you do this to me, Tommy? After everything we've been through together? Do you know what this will do to our family? To my father?"

Of course I did. This was going to devastate the family. When her mother died, Cassie's father fell apart. She lived with us for almost two years until Uncle Tony was able to pull himself together. My mother loved her like a daughter. My family had always stood by me, but I didn't know how this was going to shake out.

* * * * *

Their divorce was final in a hundred and twenty days.

Phil was torn, I could tell. He was grateful that I had gotten Alex to safety and had finally told him what was going on, but too much time had passed. I'd known for too long and hadn't told him. That betrayal was too deep. When he had Alex, I wasn't able to see my Godson.

Remaining silent cost me one of my dearest friends.

Speaking up cost me my cousin, my pseudo-sister.

When she had Alex, I wasn't able to see my Godson. There was nothing from her. No imprecations, no screaming matches, nothing. It was as if I had died and was no longer a part of her life. To her, I was gone.

My soul had been cauterized and I couldn't feel anything. There were two times when something broke through and I'm glad I wasn't near Cassie either time. I'd never hit a woman, but I'd never been pressed like that.

The first time he came running towards me when he saw me getting out of my car after work. They were on the front lawn and all I could think of was he how he was again rushing to the street. This time Cassie was there. She raced after him, grabbed his hand and yanked him back. Yanked. Hard. She almost lifted him off the ground and he started crying. So did I. Turning, I went in the house and pulled out a fifth of Jack. I stared at my bottle of pain killers for too long before I took the whiskey to the back porch.

The second time was the day before his birthday. She waited until I went out to the front with the lawnmower before she took the boxes from Amazon with my gifts, unsteadily walked to her garbage cans and threw them out, staring at me the entire time. I distinctly heard the clinking of bottles in the recycling bin as she stumbled into it on her way back inside.

My knuckles turned white on the metal and plastic of the machine. I had no idea what I would do if she was there next to me and my anger frightened me. I took a deep breath, released it slowly and started the mower.

* * * * *

Months had gone by, but Phil needed his pound of flesh and once again, the four of us were together. We weren't in high school anymore. Michael had become the doctor he had always dreamed of being. My brother and I each owned a Callahan's Performance Auto shop and Phil was an architect. It didn't matter that we seemed to be pillars of our community. Michael called to tell me where to be and when.

Phil not speaking to me changed nothing. They had been there for me when I had needed them; I'll always be there when they need me.

Taking a 3:00 am traipse through the woods, the four of us approached the redneck's house from the rear. Peeking through the window, Jim later told us that he saw that the redneck was smoking a joint and watching infomercials in his living room. For some, unemployment had its perks. My brother came back to where we waited, just inside the start of the copse before the treeline.

"Okay, it looks like he's in there alone. He's awake. Phil, we're there if you're doing this, but it's not too late to do something else."

He wouldn't look at any of us. He just kept staring at the house, like he could see through the walls at the man who sullied his marriage. "No, the hell with that. Over a year? Hell no. And Alex running towards traffic? We're doing this."

I had trouble understanding how a physician could sanction this. Michael had pulled Phil to the side and was whispering fiercely with Phil, trying to convince him to drop it. It had the feeling of an old argument. Eventually, he shook his head and stepped back.

After donning ski masks, we made our move. Going up to the cement stairs, Jim slowly tried the handle of the back door. It turned. He signaled us over. One by one, we slipped into the house. Moving as quietly as possible, we made our way towards his La-Z-Boy recliner. It was sort of pathetic. We wanted to be ninjas and instead were Moe, Larry, Curly and Shep.

Michael and Phil approached the living room from opposite sides of the kitchen. Moving slowly and cautiously, they waited for Jim and I. My brother banged into a wooden box with some potatoes and we all froze, holding our breath. After a minute, we started moving again. We could have been a herd of elephants and I don't think he would have noticed us.

Three of us hung back as Phil moved up behind the chair and yanked the prick up by his greasy hair. He grunted in surprise as the chair tilted back exposing his face. Phil slammed a fist down on his face and I heard a disturbing crunch.

One nose ruined.

I tried to be as stoic as possible, but I felt the bile rising up towards my mouth. I had to be there. They had been there for me. I couldn't leave. The redneck started pulling out of his drug-induced torpor and I wondered what the joint had been laced with. He was struggling against the hand that had him trapped by the hair as punches rained down on his face.

Hurriedly lifting my mask, I vomited on a stack of magazines lying in the corner. I couldn't leave. They were there for me when I needed them. More weight added to my kharmic debt. A good man beating another human while a second man dedicated to healing stood and watched, all because I couldn't find the courage to do what was necessary.

Michael stepped up and hugged Phil, pinning his arms to his side. He had to lift Phil into the air for a second. "That's enough. It's enough. We have to go."

Struggling against Michael's embrace, Phil leaned down, spittle flying out with his words. "If you call the cops, when I get out I'll come back and kill you. My son could've been hit. You thought you'd walk away? If I'm even questioned, I'll kill you."

As we left, I looked back. I wish I hadn't. His face was covered in blood, a misshapen mess. They had been there for me when no one else was. I wiped the tears away before they could see them and hurried back towards the trees.

They had always been there for me and I had to be there for them. Because I'm a coward.

* * * * *

Time slipped by and life fell into a new form of normalcy. My employees knew that something was off. They tried to fight my depression with bad jokes and worse puns. Cars had always been my vocation. A quick wit and horrible sense of humor had always been my avocation. For as long as I could remember, that was how Jim and I competed. Who could come up with the quickest, groan-inducing quip? That was our sibling rivalry.

The redneck moved after there was a raid on his house. I don't know what they found, but it was enough to get him to clear out. My brother would have told me if he dropped a dime, so I guessed that it had been Phil.

Jim still came by often, but I could see how disappointed he was in me. I agreed with him. I should have told Phil. I should have stood up for my friend, the injured party, like they had for me. Jim would try to be lighthearted and get me to laugh, offering me obvious straight lines and leave them hanging. For the first time in our lives, I didn't respond, didn't take the quick road to the stupid pun.

There was no more humor. No laughs. No attempts to out-pun my twin.

I hadn't been in a serious relationship in over two years and knew the odds of a single gay man being able to adopt. Alex was as close to me as a son and they cut me out of his life. He was likely all that I would ever have, and he was gone. Because I was a coward.

* * * * *

Phil and Alex were at his parents for Thanksgiving. My brother convinced me to come home instead of spending the day with Michael and Maddie. It was a dour holiday made worse by Cassie's drinking and sullen anger. She had lost weight and looked unhealthy. Her appetizers were Old No. 7 over ice.

Meal eaten, we sat around the table.

Ever the peacemaker, Mom spoke up. "So, Cassie, how's Alex?" Mom didn't know. Jim was the only relative I talked to about Alex, Cassie and Phil.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't seen my son in two days and my husband has him for Thanksgiving. Sorry. Ex-husband. Isn't that right, Tommy?"

Jim slammed his glass down on the table. "Why don't you shut the hell up? If you can't stop being a bitter, miserable bitch, get up and leave."

"Fuck you, Jim! I made a mistake and I have to pay for it for the rest of my life? You and Tommy were like brothers to me. He couldn't keep his mouth shut and now I've lost Phil and I'm a part-time mother to my baby."

I stared at the remnants of my dinner, trying not to make eye contact. I didn't need to look up to know that Dad was about to explode, and Mom was embarrassed by the language. Everything about this shook me, made me question who I am. Until this started, I'd never been timid or indecisive. Don't like my friends? Fuck you. Don't like my family? Fuck you. Don't like gay people? Fuck you. Now? I was as firm as a wet sponge.

From my angle, I could see Jim repeatedly clenching and releasing his fists. His voice was low and angry. "Who the hell are you? A mistake? That's when you use spoiled milk in your coffee. When you wear mismatched socks or forget a bag of food at the grocery. You cheated on Phil for over a year. You lied, you planned, you calculated. That's not a mistake, Cassie. That's deliberate action. You betrayed your family and it's Tommy's fault? You're fucking delusional."

Our uncle tried to intervene. He was as stuck as I was. Loathing what she did, but not being able to turn his back on his daughter. "Maybe we should discuss this another time. I don't think—"

Jim wouldn't be dissuaded. "No, let's get this out in the open. Did you know that Tommy hasn't seen his Godson since that day? He lives for that kid. Loves him to pieces, and your daughter won't let him see Alex. Why? Because Tommy ran across the fucking street on his bad leg, dodging a car that could have hit Alex and made sure that Alex was safe until his father could get him. Yeah, what a horrible guy my brother is. She didn't even know he was missing for almost an hour after her lover left. An hour!"

Uncle Tony looked aghast. "Tommy hasn't seen Alex?"

"Nope. Phil won't talk to Tommy and Cassie uses the kid as a tool to punish your nephew. Let me ask you something. Do you think that your grandson would be better off with or without Tommy in his life? Your daughter doesn't seem to care what's best for her son, as long as she can use him as a tool to hurt Tommy."

Mom spoke up, voice full of questions, concern for me and quiet outrage. "Tommy, is this true? You haven't seen Alex in all this time?"

Everyone was looking at me. "Look, it's Cassie's choice. She's his mother, I understand—"

My father finally unleashed. "That's bullshit! Cassie, is this true? We took you in and treated you like a daughter. Are you cutting Tommy off from Alex?"

"He... I just asked him to not tell Phil. I would have explained it that night. Phil and I... I've lost everything."

Red-faced, my father pushed back from the table. "How in the hell could you do that to both of them? He thought the boy was in danger. I agree with him. He was wandering into the street. I would have done the same thing. You gonna cut me off too? Your father probably agrees. Is he out of your lives?"

Looking around, she saw no allies, no support, no compassion. She shot up from the table, sending her chair into the wall behind her. "Fuck all of you," she growled, and swiped her coat from where it dangled from the chair's back. We sat in silence, trying not to look at Uncle Tony, as we heard her car start and pull away.

* * * * *

The winter holidays rolled around. Only her father had seen Cassie. He'd been trying to get her to enroll in a treatment center for alcoholism, but she's pushing against it, denying she has a problem. Her anger has left her as alone as I feel. Jim says it's easier to direct her rage at me than at herself. I don't know, I'm not a shrink. All I know is that I lost three people that I love, and I had no one to blame but myself.

Phil lets Uncle Tony see Alex as much as he wants. I've met them a few times at Chuck E. Cheese or sometimes Dave and Busters. The first time was difficult. I couldn't stop shaking. It got better. It's not much, but it's infinitely better than nothing.

Today is Christmas. A day of hope and redemption. Uncle Tony will be bringing him by this afternoon. I arrived at my parent's home at a quarter to six this morning, let myself in and arranged a mountain of presents for my Godson around the tree. My Amex would feel the pain, but for the first time in a long time, I was happy.

The time for hiding away and licking my wounds was over. I'd use my family to see Alex. I'd learn from my mistakes and never chose inaction out of fear again. I'll apologize to Phil in person. If he won't accept it, I'll abide by his decision. I'll be ready accept Cassie back in my life if she's ever ready.