Just Another Lovesick Boy

One of the most frustrating traits amongst humans was the lack of self-restraint. Whether it comes from excitement, nervousness, or whatever emotion, it was seriously frustrating when one could not restrain themselves from doing something. Admittedly, on occasion, the lack of self-restrain could potentially be beneficial but more often than not, it was not. And, obviously, nobody ever bothered on informing Eddy about that.

I winced as I thought about the incident that occurred during lunch as I dragged Eddy home. I looked down at Eddy, who had his arm around my waist and all of his weight leaning against me. He appeared completely forlorn as he stared down at the floor underneath him. I grimaced as I looked down at him before speaking up.

“Come on, Ed, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Dude, you were there. I couldn’t control myself. It just…blah,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, it was bad. But it could have been worse.”

“How could it have been worse?” he exclaimed before throwing himself dramatically to the green grass of my other neighbor’s lawn.

“You could have pounced on her and she could have screamed bloody murder,” I sighed as I crouched down.

Eddy lifted his head abruptly as he stared up at me. He pushed himself off the ground and sat with his arms resting on his knees. He glared against the sun as he stared across the street absently. He looked up at me, pouting slightly, before nodding and holding his hand out. I straightened up before grabbing his hand and pulling him up. I put my arm around his shoulder.

“You, sir, are a little over hasty.”

“I know,” he pouted. “I was just so excited I had her back.”

“Yeah. Now I have to play knight again.”

“No!” he exclaimed as he pushed himself away from me and stumbled onto his lawn. “I have to be a knight. I can’t keep waiting for my princess to rescue me. I’m going to be a cliché fucker and rescue her.”

I raised my eyebrows at him and rolled my eyes behind his back before following him up his driveway and to the porch. I stared at him incredulously as we stood on the porch, Eddy fumbling with the doorknob for a moment before slamming the door open. He stumbled into his living room noisily, causing his dad, who was sitting on the floor as he typed on his laptop, to look up startled. I grimaced at him as I closed the front door silently.

“I hate life!” he exclaimed before throwing his bag to the floor and landing face first on the couch.

“Well, that’s downright depressing. Hey, Adrian,” Mr. Devereux smiled at me.

Free walked around the corner, blinking in shock before staring incredulously at her brother’s form. Her lips pursed together as she glared at him before she slowly turned towards me. Mr. Devereux slowly reached over and began to teasingly poke Eddy’s head with a pencil.

“Adrian, what did he do now?” Free asked with her hands on her hips.

“Why do you have to assume that I did something?” Eddy’s muffled voice asked.

“Because you always do something. What did he do?”

“He asked Anya to be his girlfriend practically the second I got her to sit with us again. Actually, he kind of screamed it at her.”

Freedom sighed as she shook her head in disappointment. She stared at her brother’s sprawled form on the couch before turning back to me with a wide smile. “Well, let me get you some food. I doubt you ate if you played Prince Charming to get her back.”

“Adrian is incapable of playing Prince Charming. He stutters too much,” Eddy said.

“And you’re incapable of being anything useful if you can’t even control yourself around a girl,” Free snapped before grinning and grabbing my hand to drag me to the kitchen.

I poked my head around the corner from the kitchen. “Hey. Hey, Eddy.”

“What?” he snapped at me as he pulled himself up to look at me over the back of the couch.

“You just got told by a seven year old,” I grinned before walking back into the kitchen.

I chuckled to myself as I heard Eddy growl and Mr. Devereux laugh before turning my attention to Freedom. I watched her as she pulled the butter and cheese out of the fridge and on to the counter. “You know, I’ve been telling him to ask her out but I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to do it the second she sat down.”

“Totally. I mean, dude, what the hell?” I asked.

“Dude, you should totally not ask questions like that because they totally don’t make sense, dude,” she mocked me.

“Don’t mock me, midget,” I laughed.

Free whipped around to glare at me. “Don’t call me a midget. That is offensive.”

“How do you even know what that means? I didn’t know that when I was your age.”

“Oh, honey, you were just slow,” she nodded as she spread butter on one side of a piece of bread as she stood on a bright yellow stool.

“Why are you so mean to me?” I asked sadly.

“It’s how I show my affection for you, Adrian. Just remember that.”

“You are so much like your mom, it’s scary. She said that to me all the time,” I chuckled.

I smiled to myself as I stared absently through the window. Memories of Antonia Devereux filled my mind as I thought about how similar her daughter was to her. Most of my memories of Eddy’s mom involved us being outside in the sunlight. Mrs. Devereux always spent most of her time in her garden and Eddy and I would spend as much time as possible in her presence. She was always wearing khaki overalls with a large green hat on top of her waist-length black hair. No matter what she wore, she always looked like an angel to me. It was not until I was older that my mom told me that Mrs. Devereux used to be a model when she was younger and I never had a doubt about that. Mrs. Devereux had that unique look that had to be shared with the world through photographs. There were photos all over the Devereux house from her modeling days. Her bright blue eyes that she gave to Eddy would always shine brightly through the pictures. Of course, my favorite photo of her was the last family portrait that Devereux family took before her death. The photo was meant to be posed but they ended up choosing a candid photo for their final copy. Mr. Devereux was holding a giggling three-year-old Free in his arms as he laughed with her. Eddy was hugging his mom by her waist while she grinned widely with her tongue slightly curled over her teeth at Mr. Devereux. It was the famous Devereux Cheshire Cat smile. I thought about the portrait that hung over the television in the living room before I realized that everything went quiet in the pale yellow kitchen.

I looked away from the window to see Freedom looking down and her hair covering her face. I raised my eyebrows slightly, wondering what was wrong with her. She sighed shakily as she put the butter knife down and turned off the stove before turning on her stool to look at me. I stood up immediately once I saw the tears that filled her hazel eyes. I took the few steps forward to pick her up in my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck as I felt tears fall down my shirt.

“I was three, Adrian. I used to call her Mama. She smelled like roses and baked bread all the time. That’s all I remember. I can’t remember her voice. I have to look at pictures to remember what she looked like. I don’t remember my mama, Adrian,” she cried.

Just like it did with Eddy, it always broke my heart when Free cried. I had been there when she was born. I had been there almost every single day of her life. I did not care about genetics. I knew deep in my heart that Free was my little sister. I taught her everything I knew and I took care of her. As far as I was concerned, I was her big brother. Even seeing her cry from bloody knees in the park hurt me so knowing how cruel it was that Free missed out on having a mother broke my heart. I was not even a part of the family and I had more time with Antonia than her own daughter did. I had no idea what I would do without my mom and Eddy and Free actually have to life with that. It was not fair that Antonia had to leave this world when Free was so young. She barely had any time to create memories with her mom.

“I’ll tell you what I remember. She had a beautiful voice. She should have been a singer. She laughed all the time. It was rare when she wasn’t smiling. She smelled like roses because she wanted you to be in touch with nature so she would plant flowers just for you. She smelled like bread because she made it just for you because you refused to eat anything else. Her hands were always soft, even though she worked hard every single day. And you want to know something else?”

“Yeah,” Free sniffled into my neck.

“I see her in you. You look more and more like her every day. You have her smile. You have her voice. She is you,” I told her.

“I barely remember her but I miss her,” she said with a tremor in her voice.

“She was your mom, baby girl, it’s okay to miss her. She loved you, Eddy, and your dad more than anything. You all meant the world to her. That’s the best reason ever to cry over someone who is gone.”

I turned towards the doorway after hearing a shuffling sound in that direction. Eddy was leaning against the doorway, one hand tightly gripping the doorpost, with tear marks staining his face as Mr. Devereux stood behind him with a hand on Eddy’s shoulder and his eyes moistened. I licked my lips before I planted a soft kiss to the side of Freedom’s golden head. I set her small form on to the floor before she ran into the arms of her father and brother. I stared at the family who stood together as I remembered the woman that started their lives. The family that had nothing left of her except a few clothes, a bottle of perfume, a gold necklace, and a rosebush. The family that waited until that moment to share their secret tears to another.

I took one last look at the family before stepping away through the other doorway. The Devereux’s were my second family. They took care of me when I needed it most. I would always love them but even I had to admit they were not my real family. I had no way to really connect with them. My father left me behind. He never died. I could never comprehend the loss of a loved one. Even though all I had in my family was my mother, I never lost anybody else. My mom was the only one who mattered to me. I could not imagine a life without her. It was true that I missed Mrs. Devereux like she was my own mother but the truth was that she was not. There was no way I could ever understand their pain. It was their pain, after all. It was something they had to learn to overcome together, without outside interference. They had to learn to smile again as a family. I could not help with that.

After all, I was a Dawson. I was not a Devereux.