Date: Thu, 09 Jan 2003 18:14:34 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: rebound - part 18

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or
you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You
shouldn't be here.

2) I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no
way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or
anything else.  This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy
constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy
flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, we now continue.

***

The drive out of the city was less than an hour, even with traffic. I had a
five minute stop at the florist on the way, and a bouquet of flowers
rested, wrapped in paper, on the seat next to me. I felt sometimes like I
could make this drive with my eyes closed, like I was running on
autopilot. As with so many other things, coming here was a habit, down from
once a week to about once every three, and I knew even as I walked out of
the store that Michelle would know exactly where I was going. Justin
wouldn't, but I knew that Michelle would tell him if he asked. Justin
hadn't said anything after I kissed him goodbye, but I could tell he was
worried. He believed I was coming back, I could tell that from his face,
but I could also see that he wanted to come with me.

I needed to make this trip alone. Someday Justin could come with me, but
for now, this visit needed to be just me and Matt.

I parked the car in the side lot, knowing the visiting hours for the
cemetery as well as I knew the hours for the bookstore. There were no other
cars there, but there usually weren't in the middle of the day on a
weekday. It wasn't quite a country cemetery, but I never would have known
about the place if Matthew hadn't found it himself and left the
instructions with our lawyer. There was a low fence around the grounds, and
a small chapel in the middle, where we had held Matt's funeral. Before he
died, I didn't have any funerary arrangements. I never thought about stuff
like that, because I was young and in love and was going to live forever,
but Matthew had been the practical one.  I had arrangements now, but they
were just a copy of his.

In a book I read once one of the characters said, "It's always raining when
you bury someone you love." I can't remember the book, but it was a quote
that came back to me when Matt died, when I stood in the chapel that I
could see now, through the fence, and stared at the wooden box that somehow
took the place of my boyfriend, my lover, my soul. Before they let anyone
in the sanctuary they had given me a minute alone, the funeral director and
the minister standing in the vestibule as I was given one last look at Matt
before they closed the casket. He didn't want to have it open during the
ceremony, but he had asked that I be given time to say goodbye, one of the
many other things that I wouldn't have thought of. Even now, I'm not sure
if looking into the casket was something I should have done or not. I know
that Matt wanted me to see him, that he was worried that I would later
regret it if I didn't, but the Matt that I remembered was the one I fell in
love with, the guy who stole books out of my hands and told me that he
loved me in front of everyone. I remembered someone who was full of life,
the guy who had held my hand so tightly the first night we spent in the
bookstore, walking me through the building and the loft and telling me over
and over that it was ours.

I remembered Matt, not the waxen dummy in the box in front of me.

The minister, a man Matt and I both knew because we went to services every
week in his church, had walked me quietly to the casket's side, and told me
to take as long as I needed. I just stood there, because I didn't know what
else I was supposed to do. For days after Matt died, after the night in the
hospital, I had been numb, a sleepwalking zombie.  My friends, or my
parents, or Matt's family made sure I ate something, or that I showered, or
got dressed, because I wasn't capable of doing it myself for a while. Pete
had made sure I was dressed for the funeral, going to the loft to pick out
clothes for me. I was staying on Michelle's couch, because I didn't want to
go home. I was sure that this was all some sort of mistake, that this was a
terrible dream that I would wake up from, and I was waiting for Matt to
come get me. I was waiting for Matt to come tell me to hurry up and get
ready, because we had things to do, and places to go, and Matt never came.

When I stood at the side of the coffin, looking down at this waxy thing
that looked like Matt, and I realized it was true. Matthew, my Matthew, was
gone. The eyes that I knew so well, those warm brown eyes that made you
think of chocolate and puppies and everything else, wouldn't open. His hair
was done, but it was too careful.  Matt never did his hair like that, never
took any time on it. He got up in the morning, showered, and combed it once
for the day. If it got windblown, or he got hat head, or whatever else, he
never fixed it. Matt never wore makeup, either. Mat would never have had
blush on his cheeks like this, and his lips wouldn't have glowed with
unnatural color.  Looking back now, I realize that they had actually done a
good job with him, that they had expended all of this effort only for me,
but then, I just thought he looked alien, completely foreign to me. It
wasn't Matt, but in some frightening way, it was. Matthew had been
exchanged for this doppelganger, this lifeless husk that used to be someone
I loved and now was just a shell.

Death had taken him from me, but not just death. I looked around, looked at
the minister whispering softly to the man from the funeral home, and I took
in the candles, and the crosses, and the stained glass windows. I never
went to services again. The minister called me a few times, at the loft,
where I'd slowly moved back in, but I didn't return his calls. Matt's faith
had been important to him, and I had adopted it as my own, but now I took
no comfort in it. A well meaning friend had babbled to me at calling hours
about God's plan for everyone, and I had walked away in the middle of the
conversation, not interested in hearing it. I wasn't interested at all in
anything anyone had to say about God if this was what God had planned for
us. If this was the way God chose to reward Matt's faith, and Matt's
family, and me, then God could keep his own counsel, and I would keep mine.

It wasn't raining when we buried Matt, although I thought it should have
been, and it wasn't raining today, either. I pulled the paper off of the
flowers, tossing it on the seat as I got out of the car, and pulled up the
collar of my jacket as I got out of the car. Early October, on an overcast
day like this, could be a little crisp, and a light breeze ruffled my hair
and the bouquet as I walked slowly through the parking lot. I followed the
fence to the side entrance, near the parking area, and then walked inside,
ignoring the chapel as I followed the road. The cemetery was one of the
newer memorial park models, not just rows of stones like I'd always thought
of them when I was younger. There were trees, and bushes, and benches, and
my feet knew the route by heart. Follow the road to the first curve, up a
gently rising hill, and then leave it to walk twenty feet over grass, past
a small mausoleum, to a tree with one low stone under it.

There was a variety of trees in the memorial park, all different kinds, and
I was glad that Matt had foregone some of the options to just go with a
plain, firm oak tree. There were acorns on the ground around the base of
it, but I was ok with that, and pleased he hadn't picked an apple tree. The
sight of rotting fruit on top of his grave might have been a little too
symbolic for me, as occasionally I had trouble stopping myself from
thinking about the tree roots, and what they must be growing into. At those
times I reminded myself that Matt was beyond hurt down there, under this
simple granite stone that he had picked out.  The stone was wide, but not
very ornamented, and I glanced down at the familiar writing as I brushed
off the top, flicking a few brownish leaves and some acorns off of it. They
fell off to the side, onto the grass which was still green but starting to
dry out, getting that crackly fall feeling as if it was turning to
straw. The end of things was in the air, but it always seemed to be here.

There was a short vase in the top of the stone, right in the middle, a
plain tube that the stems of the flowers could hide inside, and it was
empty, as always. The grounds crew removed the bouquets when they got
older, as they died and started to disintegrate, so that I could replace
them each time I came. I got tulips, regardless of the season, because they
were Matt's favorite, and always brought them in his favorite colors: red,
yellow, orange, or a mix of the three. I knew he wasn't really down there,
in the ground, but I felt closer to him when I was here. If I wanted to
feel him, I came out here, because I had done so much to redesign the loft,
to scrub it clean of his presence. I could feel it in the store, but there
were so many other things there, so many other memories and people to muddy
things up. Out here, things were clearer, quieter, and I could feel like
Matt was listening to me. He hadn't specified it, but I had installed a
small bench facing the stone, after the funeral, when it became obvious
that I was going to be out here regularly, and I sat down on it, staring at
the rock in front of me.

"Hi, baby," I said quietly, my eyes tracing the words in front of me. They
were clustered on one side of the stone, his name with the dates of his
birth and loss below it. There were no other words, no inscription. How
could you sum up a life in a few words? The space on the other side of the
stone was for me, to share with Matt at some point. "I know it's been a
little while since I've been out here, but things are going well. The store
is good, the kids are good, and everything else is going well, like I
said."

There weren't any birds out here, so it was always quiet. I looked at the
acorns, kicking one absently with my shoe.

"Matt, I need to talk to you, about something, that, well, something that's
been happening lately. If you're watching, you already know about it, but
if not, I need to tell you, because, I don't know. I just, I'm trying to
figure out how I feel about things, and I need to try to explain it to you,
too."

The breeze rustled through my hair, fluffing it a little, and I closed my
eyes. Saying this out loud was harder than I thought it would be, but I
felt like I needed to.  After everything April had said, and all the doubts
I'd been having on my own, I needed to feel like I'd closed things between
Matt and I, like things between us were ok.  Closing my eyes, I could
imagine that he was sitting next to me, that one of the smells coming on
the breeze would be his cologne, the Calvin Klein aftershave that he always
wore.

"I met someone, Matt. His name is Justin, and I don't know if you'd know
who he is, because I don't remember either of us knowing much about his
band, and I don't think they were very big. He's a little spoiled, but he's
a nice guy. I think you'd like him. He's cute, too. I think if you were
here that the two of you would probably really like each other."

I wasn't just saying that. Justin and Matthew had a lot in common. They
were both energetic and impulsive, and as much as I thought the two of them
would enjoy each other, they'd probably also have each other bouncing off
the walls. Matt had a serious side when he needed to, and from what I'd
seen Justin did, too. Both of them could turn introspective, and both of
them felt everything pretty deeply while somehow managing to cover it.

"I met him through April, and that's kind of why I'm here. Your sister is a
little mad at me right now, and I'll explain why in a minute."

April and I had never fought like that before, not really. We squabbled a
little, kind of like a real brother and sister, but last night had been
different. She had seemed so hurt and disappointed at the same time, and it
was so easy to see the same expression on Matt's face. The two of them
looked so much alike that hearing it from her was almost like hearing it
from him. I needed to know, though, that he wouldn't take things the same
way. I needed to believe that he would understand, or Justin and I were
going to crash before we even got off the ground.

"Justin's in a lot of pain, Matt. He came here to see April because someone
hurt him, someone he loved, and your sister wasn't here, because she was
out being April. She had some kind of, well, it doesn't matter. She was out
having fun with a boy, and she left Justin with me because she thought it
would help him to talk to someone else who was gay. She wouldn't return our
calls all week, either one of us, so Justin and I just kept talking to each
other, and I guess, you know, I guess it worked out, kind of, but not the
way she planned, and that's why she's pissed."

My eyes were still closed, and in my mind I could see him now, sitting on
the bench next to me as I faced his stone with my head down. I could see
those warm brown eyes, like melted chocolate, and his ruffled, messy hair
twisting in the wind. It was short on the sides, but long on top. When he
was out being a jock, he tucked it under a hat, but when we were just being
ourselves he loosened up a little. He would have a little bit of a scruff,
too, on his chin and cheeks. Sometimes he went a day or two without
shaving.  It left him looking a little rough, a little bad boy, and sexy as
all hell. I was the one who was always clean shaven, who always had creases
in my pants and my hair combed back, and Matt was the free spirit who
bounced around me like a moon in orbit. Actually, that wasn't quite apt, as
it left him lesser than I, and we were equals. He was the yin to my yang.

"Justin thinks he's in love with me. I don't mean to say it like that, like
he's just deluded, because I think maybe he really is in love with me, and
not just having some crush. He cares about me, and it's not just something
he says. I can tell that he does, I can tell in the way that he looks at
me, and the way that he acts around me. I know it's been a really short
time, just a week, like I told you, but he's definitely falling hard for
me. I need to talk to you, needed to come out here, because I think I'm
falling back."

That was it. I'd said it. In my mind, Matt was still here, still listening,
and I felt like I should keep explaining, as if that would bring me some
kind of an answer.

"When I look at him, I feel a little fluttery inside. It's not like I felt
when I was with you, it's not that rug sliding out from under my feet,
elevator dropping ten stories feeling that I used to get when you looked at
me, but there's something there. I feel something for him, Matt, but I
haven't let myself feel everything. It's only the past day or two that I've
admitted to myself that I feel something, because I've been afraid to feel
it all the way.  I've been afraid to let any of it go, to really take the
chance, because of you. I love you, Matt. I still love you. Every day when
I wake up I still love you, and I still feel it all the time that you're
not here, but I think, I want to see, I don't know. I think I could love
Justin, too, someday. I think if I gave him a chance, that he and I could
really have something, but I don't know if I can take that chance. I need
to feel like it's ok to. I need to feel like it's all right, like this is
what you would want."

I waited. In my mind he was still there on the bench, still listening to me
expectantly, still smiling the same warm smile, but he said nothing.

"I still love you, but I want to try to love someone else, too. I want to
see if there really could be something there for me and Justin, and even if
there's not, I want to see if I could love somebody. I don't want to be
alone. Even if you're still with me, I'm alone, too, and I don't want to
live that way. I think, all the things you did to draw me out, after you
did all of that, it's not right for me to pull back in. It's not right for
me to go back into that same shell I was in when I met you. The reason this
has been so hard for me is that Justin has made me see that's exactly what
I've been doing. That's exactly what I've become, and everyone else is too
polite to say so. I don't want to be that person, and I need to feel like
this is ok with you, Matt. I love you, and I know that if you can you still
love me, too. I'm not talking about letting you go. I'm not going to forget
you, or what we had, or who you were, but I want to feel that way again,
and I can't do that with you. I can't do that unless it's with someone
else, and I want to think that you'd accept that, because I want to accept
that, too."

I waited, thinking of Matt and thinking of Justin. They were so different,
from such different places physically and mentally, but so similar, and I
couldn't reconcile how I felt with either of them against the way I felt
about the other. Matt and Justin were twisting together into a huge knot
inside of me, and I needed to be sure of which cord to follow, which way to
sort it out and untangle it.

"Justin wants me to go away with him for a while. He wants to take me down
to where he lives, because he wants me around, but also because he kind of
needs me. I think, in a way, I help Justin be independent, and that's
something he wants very much right now.  I'm not just going because of
that, though, not just because he wants me to.  I want to go.  I want to go
be with him, and be close to him, and see if there really can be anything
deeper between he and I. I don't think I can do that here, Matt. If I'm
going to clear myself out, clear my heart, then I need to clear my head,
too, and I can't do that here. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I
came here to say goodbye to you, for a little while. I came here to let you
know that I'm going away, but I'll come back. I love you, baby, ok?"

If it had been a movie, there would have been a sign. The sun would have
come out from behind a cloud, or there would have been a phantom touch on
the side of my face. I would have heard a whisper of Matt's voice, or the
flowers would have rustled, or something. There would have been some kind
of sign, something I could put some faith in and know that Matt thought
this would be all right, that this was ok, that wherever he was he heard me
and understood. As I was, I opened my eyes, and I was there, on the bench,
alone. Whatever I did, whatever I decided, I would have to do it myself,
and make my own choices.

I straightened the flowers, rested my hand on the top of the stone for a
minute as I silently bid Matthew a quiet goodbye, and then I walked back to
my car. There was a second bundle of flowers on the seat, more roses,
although these ones were a soft baby blue. I was pretty sure that it was an
unnatural shade, although I wasn't certain, not being a florist, but all
that mattered to me was that these were Justin's favorite color. It seemed
odd to be picking up flowers for the dead boyfriend and the live boyfriend
on the same trip, but I decided to try to stop thinking about stuff like
that. Justin had said he was afraid of trying to compete with Matt, and I
didn't want to start comparing the two of them in my mind, either, as
impossible as that sounded.

When I walked into the store, Michelle was still behind the cafe counter,
sitting on her stool reading something, probably nonfiction. There were
only a few customers around, and Julie had left for the day, only being on
the morning shift until just after lunch. Justin and Pete were up on the
second level, talking about basketball while they rearranged some books, a
chore that Pete seemed perpetually focused on. I nodded at Michelle, who
started to stand when she saw me, and climbed the stairs to the second
level quickly, carrying the bouquet. Justin and Pete paused to look at me,
both smiling, although Justin's was broader, and he looked a little
surprised, as if he'd been afraid that I wouldn't come back after all. I
hugged him tightly, letting go quickly before anyone could see, and held
out the flowers.

"These are for you," I said, smiling. Justin took them, burying his face in
them for a second as he inhaled deeply, and when he looked back up at me,
holding them tightly, his eyes were a little wet.

"I was, I thought," he began, swallowing thickly, his voice low. Pete
stepped away, giving us a little privacy, although the notion seemed a
little foolish since we were standing in the middle of a public space,
right next to the railing. I caught people moving below out of the corner
of my eye, but didn't want to look away from Justin.  He needed me, and I
put a hand on his arm.

"I know, Justin," I said, squeezing his shoulder. "I know what you thought.
You don't have to say it. I wanted to tell you that I was, um, I went to
say goodbye to Matt, for a while. I went to tell him about us, and to tell
him what I was going to do.  I'm going with you."

"You are?" Justin asked, smiling uncertainly, as if he was afraid he hadn't
heard it correctly. Before I could answer, I heard another voice from below
us, on the first floor.

"It's that easy for you?" April demanded, glaring up at us. She was the
movement I'd seen before. I hadn't seen her when I came in, and I bounded
up the stairs so quickly no one had time to warn me.

"April," I said, stepping away from Justin as I looked over the rail at
her.  She looked even more pissed than she had last night. Michelle stood
right behind her, crossing her arms, and Pete stepped up behind Justin.

"She's been here all morning," Justin said quietly.

"Well?" April asked. "Is it really that easy for you to just, just throw
Matt away? To just hop into bed with the next guy that comes along?"

"We need to talk," I said, walking toward the stairs. Justin followed me,
still holding the flowers, as I walked down the stairs. I wasn't about to
get bitched out by April in the middle of my own store.

"About what?" she asked, crossing her arms as I walked toward her.

"Do we have to do this here?" I asked. "Come upstairs, April, please."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I can't believe you're doing this. And you!"

Justin stepped back as she glared at him, and I stepped in between them.

"Knock it off," I said sharply. April inhaled, drawing in breath to say
something else, and I cut her off. "Now. If you came here to talk to me,
we'll talk, but not out here in the middle of the cafe. Justin, go up to
the loft and put those in water. There are a couple old vases under the
sink."

"April, I," Justin began, and I cut him off when I saw the look she threw
him.

"Justin, go ahead," I said softly, turning to him. His eyes ticked back and
forth between us. "It'll be ok."

He nodded, turning away, and I looked back at April. I knew she was angry
at both of us, but I didn't want Justin to have to listen to her right
now. He'd been upset enough by his mother, and Chris, and spending the
morning thinking that I'd changed my mind and wasn't coming back. It
wouldn't do him any good to hear some more of April yelling at him and
accusing him of being a bad friend. As for April, well, this was like the
scene with Chris yesterday all over again. I was getting really tired of
people showing up at the store wanting to pick fights, and wondered if I
should put a sign out front discouraging it.  As I walked into the
storeroom with April behind me I heard the door in the back close as Justin
went upstairs.

"He has his own key?" April asked crossly.

"He has Matt's key," I answered, closing the door between us and the store.
If Pete needed anything in here, he could wait.

"He has Matt's key, Matt's boyfriend, Matt's everything," April said.
Instead of glaring at me, she looked like she was going to start
crying. "How can you do this, Chris? How can you just, just."

"I didn't just do anything," I said, leaning back on the shelves. "I don't
know what you think is going on here, but I haven't forgotten about your
brother. I haven't just thrown him away for Justin. I still love Matthew,
April."

"Then what are you doing?" she asked, leaning back as well. "I left you for
a week, and you didn't even want to talk to him. Now I come back and
you're, you know."

"We're together," I said bluntly. "I know you already assumed that, but
yes, Justin is sleeping in my bed, and when we say we're a couple, we mean
it in every way."

"How?" April asked. "Chris, I just, I don't understand. I don't understand
any of this.  You just told me that you still love Matt, and then you told
me that you're sleeping with Justin. I don't understand how those can go
together."

"April," I began, trying to find the words to explain it.

"What happened while I was gone?" she asked, walking toward me, her voice
rising.  "How could you do this?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?" I asked, feeling my temper start to slip
a little.  "What do you expect me to say?"

"I don't know," she answered, shaking her head. I could tell that this was
causing her pain, but it wasn't like it was easy for me. "I just, when I
left you barely wanted to talk to him, and now I come back and you're a
couple, and I was only gone for a couple days.  How could that happen? How
could you just decide you don't love Matt anymore?"

I held my arms out to her, and she stepped into them, laying her head on my
shoulder. I could tell that she wanted to cry, but was holding it in.

"I never said I don't love Matt anymore," I answered quietly. "I told you,
I still love him.  I just, I care about Justin, too."

"But this isn't right," April said. "He's my friend, and you're my friend."

"You don't want to see your friends happy?" I asked. "You'd rather that we
were bitter and alone?"

"Nobody said," she began, and I cut her off.

"Nobody's wanted to," I said. "But you've all been dropping hints. You all
talk about me not going out, and keeping to myself too much. And it's not
just you.  Michelle, Pete, Meg, Julie, everybody I know. Everyone thinks
that I should start to move on. Isn't this, kind of, what everybody
wanted?"

April stepped back, shrugging. We'd been through too much to stay mad at
each other for very long.

"It just seems so fast," she said finally. "I mean, I wanted you to get out
of your shell a little, but I didn't think, well, you barely know him at
all."

"We've talked a lot," I said lamely. "We didn't just hop in bed."

"I know, but this is just so sudden," she said, her brown eyes staring into
my green ones.  "This isn't like you running out and getting a
hobby. You're all the way in a relationship with Justin? What if you're not
ready?"

"April," I began again, but she wasn't prepared to stop.

"No, I mean it," she said. "Every day for the past two years you've been
mourning. Every day. Every time I talk to you, Matt comes up. It's almost
like he's still here, and now your just suddenly ready to leave him, to
leave everything, behind?"

"I'm not leaving him behind," I said. "I still love Matt. I just want to
see if I can love Justin, too. He and I, we have this bond. We have
feelings for each other, even if we just met, and I want to see if there's
something there worth pursuing. He's a good person, April."

"You don't have to tell me Justin is a good person, Chris," she said,
shaking her head.  "I've known him longer than you have. I just, have you
thought about this?  Have you thought this all the way through?"

"It's all I've been doing all week, April," I said, shaking my head. "I
know this is sudden, but I haven't been able to think about anything else."

"And you know about Justin and JC?" she asked. I nodded. "Chris, I know
Justin says they're broken up right now, but I don't think he's ready for
this, either.  I've seen them together, and you haven't. I know what
they're like, and what's between them, it's like being caught in a
storm. When they're in the same room, it's like no one else exists. They
only look at each other. That's why the two of them have taken over the
whole band."

"Justin said they were always the leads," I said, wishing again that I knew
more about Nsync. I needed to go out and pick up their albums, at the
minimum. I'd heard some of their stuff on the radio, but if I was about to
plunge into Justin's life, I needed to try to find a map of some kind.

"They were," April said, gesturing aimlessly with her hands. "But Justin
completely owns the new album. People are talking about Justin maybe going
solo, and 'Celebrity' will be his platform for that. You don't know this
kind of stuff, but I do.  The parts he didn't write, JC did, and the reason
Justin has more is probably because JC gave it to him.  JC loves Justin
that much, enough to put his own career second. That's not something you
can just get over in a week, Chris, not that kind of love."

"Chris said something like that, too," I said, crossing my arms. "The other
Chris. He came yesterday to take Justin back to Florida with him. He said
that Justin was on the rebound, and was forcing himself to feel something
that maybe wasn't really there."

"Don't get mad," April began, pursing her mouth. "But I think you're doing
the same thing. Maybe you and Justin do have some kind of connection, but I
think that maybe you're pushing yourself to feel something, too. I think
you're rebounding just as hard as he is, and I'm worried about both of
you."

There wasn't really anything to say to that. I was sure, in my heart, that
she was wrong. I wasn't just pushing myself to feel something for Justin. I
wasn't forcing myself to feel something that wasn't there. I was honest
when I said that I didn't love Justin, yet, but I wasn't trying to force
myself to. I was just trying to figure out if there was something there, if
there was something to pursue. Maybe it was moving a little quickly, but
that didn't mean it wasn't right.

"April, I'm trying not to hurt him," I said, sighing. "And I don't think
he's trying to hurt me, either. I know that Justin and I aren't like a
perfect couple. We don't have much in common. I'm older than him, he's a
millionaire, we barely know each other, he's grieving, I'm grieving, and
most of our friends think this is a bad idea. It would be easier for us if,
you know, if you could try to understand. I'm not asking you to like it, or
even to accept it, but I don't want you mad at me, and I don't think Justin
wants you mad at him, either."

April swallowed, pacing the floor.

"Chris, I don't know," she said finally. "I don't want you to be alone
forever, and I guess, thinking about what you said last night, I don't
think Matt would have wanted you to be, either. This is just going to be a
little hard for me, ok? It's a little bit to get used to. I don't want to
be mad at either one of you, though. If you guys want to try this, to try
to make it between you two, I guess, well, I guess I want to try to be here
for you. Just give me some time ok?"

"OK," I said, smiling. "Still my favorite almost sister?"

"Yeah," she answered, hugging me again. "And you'll always be my favorite
almost brother."

We held onto each other for a minute. It wasn't exactly a ringing
endorsement, but at least April wasn't going to be an obstacle.

"So what are you guys going to do now?" she asked, stepping away.

"We still have to talk to Chris," I said, shrugging again. "And then, well,
Justin asked if I would go home with him, and I'm going to go. I'm not
moving there or anything, and Michelle is going to watch the store for
me. After that, I don't know. Could you do something for me, though?"

"What do you need?" she asked, waiting.

"Could you go upstairs and tell Justin you're not still mad at him?" I
asked, smiling.

"Sure."

***

To be continued.