Skies Do Fall

“We’re home!” I yelled impolitely, slamming the door shut after my announcement.

Ram became very quite on the ride here and I had a feeling that this was how she was going to be all night. It was going to be very hard to act as though we were the best of friends when I had no communication to build off of.

“We?” came the reply of Tristan from our dining room across the hall.

Towing the nervous Ram with me, I made my way to the dining room to find four pairs of eyes on us.

“Yes, we,” I said, looking at Tristan and trying to avoid Brendon’s wide smile. “This is my friend, Ram, and she would like to join in on our lovely dinner plans. Is that okay, mom, or should we send her packing?”

My mom rolled her eyes at me and turned back to Ram. In her usual sweet voice, she reassured Ram, “It’s perfectly fine that you came. Their dad, Henry, couldn’t join us anyways so we have extra-food on hand,” my heart throbbed a bit at that fact but my mom continued without delay. “Come and sit, girls.”

I tugged on Ram’s sleeve when she didn’t follow me and, after her face beamed red with realization, we scooted in between Brendon and Tristan. I gracefully made it work out so that Ram could sit by Brendon while I sat by Tristan.

Maybe this was going to be easier than expected.

My mom brought us plates and drinks and then it was off to the usual small-talk topics. First it was the whole table listening to my mom ask Brendon’s grandma, or formally known as Judie, about her home and such. Then it scattered off to different conversations, Judie with my mom, Brendon with Tristan, and me with Ram.

“Ram,” I muttered halfway through the dinner.

“Hmm?” Ram asked so quietly that I might not have catched it if Brendon’s obnoxiously loud voice had been blaring off in the background.

“What are you doing? Get in the game, girl!”

“What do you mean?” Ram asked, dumbfounded.

I sighed. “I mean, talk to him, wink at him, hell, you could even play footsie with him! Just show some form of realization that he is sitting right next to you!”

Ram frowned uncertainly and I took that as my chance to turn away.

Whipping around to face Tristan, I interrupted Brendon’s laugh about some dirty joke Tristan had just told. “Hey Tristan, remember that time you stuck our pet rabbit in the drier?”

Tristan at first looked confused of my interruption but went along with the conversation. Now that we were talking and the adults were conversing, that left only two people conversation-less and I knew for a fact that Brendon, otherwise known as a chatterbox, couldn’t remain silent for more than a minute.

Just like I planned, about half a minute later, Brendon’s voice started up again from behind my purposefully turned back.

I kept my ears in their conversation while Tristan rambled on about some other weird happening with one of our old pets…

“…so what was your name again?” Brendon asked.

“Ramona, but I, uh, go by Ram for short.” Ram answered a bit shyly.

“I see. That’s pretty cool. People sometimes call me Bren for short and I always can’t help but think ‘God, lazy ass, is it really that hard to say another syllable?’”

Ram chuckled lightly, about two octaves short of what would be the appropriate laugh for that joke to make Brendon not feel embarrassed and regret telling it. I could sense the tension coming to life from behind my angled back.

Then Ram saved it.

“Yeah well a lot of people can’t understand my reasoning for preferring this nickname. They always say that Ram makes me seem like a goat but I personally think that Ramona sounds like a deceased relative of Anastasia.”

Brendon laughed and I felt a wave of relief shower over me.

Their conversation carried on excellently, Brendon feeding off the feedback Ram gave him and vice versa. They laughed a lot, maybe even more than my mother was laughing from the far end of the table with a glass of red wine in her hand.

Finally, after a round of cheesecake pudding, dinner was over.

My mom still wanted to talk to Judie so they went in the kitchen to drink some more wine while the ‘kids’ were left to do…whatever.

“Do you guys want to watch something on the tube? We just bought some vampire movie called Queen of the Dammed that looked pretty sweet and bloody,” Tristan suggested excitedly.

Everyone agreed with that idea and we all packed into the living room while Tristan went through our D.V.D cabinet in search of the bloodsucker film.

I noticed that Ram no longer lingered near me but took a seat right next to Brendon on the loveseat for two. I decided that I’d rather watch the movie than eavesdrop anymore so I sat in the recliner in the far back, away from Ram and Brendon. Tristan sat criss-cross right under the T.V, most likely going to result in a need of a more sufficient pair of contacts.

Ram talked to Brendon the whole time rather than paying any attention to what was happening on the television screen. Brendon didn’t seem to mind, but then again, I couldn’t exactly see his expression since I was farther back than him.

This continued on…and on…and on…halfway through the movie….and on…and on…and then I was passed my limit.

“I’ll be outside,” I muttered under my breath as I leaped up and began to stalk towards the front door. I could feel eyes on my back as I did this, most likely a curious and concerned Tristan.

Once outside, I slumped on our lame swing set hanging on the front porch and sunk deep into the nearly-unsupportive wooden planks.

I knew what this feeling was. It wasn’t just some minor rage that I could barely hear, moreover, pay any attention to the movie. There was this whole other motive and I was not willing to accept that reason for one second. It just couldn’t be so.

I could already feel the throbbing knots of anger uncoiling themselves as I lightly began to swing myself to the Vegas night’s cool breeze. The edges of my mind began to tug at the reminder I’d manage to block out this far. The horrific, sickening reminder of my father’s passing absence at dinner. The painful, heartbreaking reminder of where he was right now…

“Robby? Are you…are you okay?” came a voice. I knew it was only a matter of time before Tristan had come to find me.

I hadn’t realized that I’d let myself shed a tear until then. I felt its sleek presence weighting against my chin and I reached up to smear it way before it fell on its own.

Without bothering to turn, I answered softly, “Yes, I’m wonderful. Thanks for the checkup.”

“And what makes you so sure that came out here to check up on you? What if I just needed a smoke break?”

It was only then that I realized that it wasn’t my brother’s voice speaking.

Before I could turn to look, there was a rickety screech of the swing’s protest and then there was Brendon, sitting right beside me.

I sniffled before lightly laughing, embarrassed. “Oh God, you caught me PMSing.”

Brendon smiled down at me. “Gotta face it someday, right?” His face went blank before I could spit out a laugh and he turned suddenly, away from my gaze.

I pushed the confusion away and asked, “So did you ditch Ram?”

He sighed heavily. “I told her I needed some air and ran away before she could offer to tag-along. I’m a free man now.” He smirked down at me and I chuckled back.

After a moment of silent swinging, Brendon spoke again.

His voice was soft, soothing, and held a true concern. His wide-brown eyes absorbed my face, watching me closely as he asked the question I didn’t have an answer for…

“What’s wrong, Robin?”

I couldn’t stop my face from the reflex it immediately took on at those words. My face screwed up with hurt, sorrow, and especially pain. Oh the pain. The pain that was shredding through my heart like a blank pumpkin waiting to get carved on Halloween. The pain that was having this hurtful effect on me.

Then came the sting again. I pushed my lips together tightly, trying so hard to ambush the urging tears back. My breathing became slackened and I was concentrating oh so hard to keep the salty substance from leaking out from my eyes.

“Robin, it’s okay. You can tell me,” Brendon softly urged me, the caring in his voice overwhelming me.

Then I fell apart.

It started out with one glistening tear falling from my eye, and then came the gasps of breath I’d held in. I began to sob and moan hysterically, melting into a downtrodden puddle of tears.

I felt Brendon’s arms wrap around my shaking frame and pull me into his warm chest, pushing his face into my hair. I nuzzled into his cotton shirt, hugging my own chest just as tightly as Brendon was holding me. He softly whispered reassurances into my ear and rocked me back and forth, pulling me into his lap.

We sat there for at least a solid ten minutes, me: desolated with tears and Brendon: comforting me with promises that things were going to be better. I knew this was a promise he couldn’t keep.

Finally, once my gasps subsided to a hiccup, Brendon placed me back on the protesting swing and off his lap. He thankfully kept an arm around my shoulder, letting me lean against his warm side in comfort. He rubbed invisible circles into my arm and continued to shush my hiccups soothingly.

I peered up at him after a little while longer to see that he was already staring down at me with those caring chocolate eyes. I gave him a weak attempt at a smile with failure.

Brendon didn’t smile back but moved his arm up to my face. His thumb lightly smoothed over my cheek in a soft yet significant touch. I felt a cold trail where his thumb left, a remainder that the tear that had previously been there.

Before I could whisper out a thank you, there was a shrill laugh from inside the kitchen and I jumped on instinct.

In that tiny reflex, my feet had hit back on the ground of reality. This was reality, where you couldn’t openly cry about some secret that had to be kept to yourself. Where you couldn’t sob hysterically and cuddle next to a guy that you promised to another. Where you had to be tough and mature.

I pondered this thought and stood up; snaking out of the embrace Brendon had me wrapped in.

“I think your mom is leaving,” I stated softly before trudging off into the house.