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“Wait, Jack!” I say, lunging after him as he tries to walk away.
“Oooo Jack,” one of the friends teases. The ridicule falls right off her face with one furious look from me.
Jack, meanwhile, has managed to slip through the crowd. I run after him, ignoring my guide’s indignant shout of, “Wait! What about your friends?”
Thankfully Jack doesn’t make it that far; he doesn’t realize his only chance of getting away from me is a full-on sprint. He’s about to cross the street when I catch up to him, almost bowling him over as I grab his arm.
He rips it out of my grasp, turning on me with an expression so much like his brother’s it’s uncanny.
“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?” he asks.
“Jack,” I say. “I’m here with your brother.”
That was the wrong thing to say. His eyes harden instantly, and now he resembles Remy Madison way more than Nick. “I don’t want to talk to him,” he says. “I don’t know what part of blocking his number didn’t tell him that.”
“He’s worried about you,” I say.
Jack scoffs. “No he’s not,” he says. “He’s worried that he’s going to get blamed in the papers if something happens to me. Then his precious stock prices are going to go down.”
“That’s not true,” I insist.
“Look, lady,” he says. “You barely know my brother. I’ve known him my entire life. I think I know what I’m talking about.”
“He—”
“You know I was only four when he split? Left for college and Dad and I didn’t hear from him for years. The entire time I grew up, he was right over the river and never so much as called on my birthday. But then Dad starts getting into legal trouble and now he wants to come in and try to tell me what to do? Well Dad might not be perfect — actually he’s pretty fucking far from perfect — but at least he was there. At least he tried instead of dipping out like Mom!”
I stand stunned, blinking back tears. I hadn’t expected Jack to unload like that, and from the look on his face, neither did he. I guess you can only keep that kind of pain bottled up for so long before it spills over.
Jack hurriedly wipes his eyes and says, “So why should I talk to him? Just so he can soothe his own ego? Tell me to get over it and that he had it worse and to get a job you lazy fuck?”
“So I can tell you I’m sorry.”
Jack freezes at the sound of Nick’s voice.
We both turn to find Nick, suit jacket discarded, backpack dangling from one hand. His hair is a mess, sweat stains his shirt. Kara’s Krowd has eaten him up and spit him back out, but he’s still on his feet. And for once he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at Jack, jaw firm, a determination in his eyes that by now I’ve come to associate with Nick staring down the impossible and willing himself to come out on top.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” he says. “I’m sorry I left when you were young. I wasn’t strong enough to handle Dad. I’m sorry I never called. I wasn’t strong enough to be there for you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a hard-ass. I didn’t try to see things from your perspective. I’m sorry I told you I didn’t want you in my life. And I’m sorry that I meant it. Because it’s easier for you to be out of my life than to admit that I’m weak. I tried my entire life to become as powerful as a man can be, but I’m still weak when it comes to you and Dad. I still care what you think. I haven’t been able to stamp it out, as hard as I’ve tried. So ultimately, I’m so sorry I tried, Jack. The point of all this wasn’t to force you to come back or to do what I want. I just want you to know that I’ve been so wrong and so weak, but that if you still want me in your life, I’ll be here.”
Jack is crying. I’m crying. Nick is the only one dry-eyed, his determination overcoming all other emotion, hanging on the silence (Kara’s concert a mere buzz in the background) preceding Jack’s response.
“The point of all this?” Jack asks.
Nick jerks his head behind us. “Kara’s a friend,” he says. “And I know you have questionable taste in music.” His serious face breaks slightly, a smile seeping through his eyes.
And that’s enough to break the spell. Jack walks forward with determined steps, and then the brothers hug each other for what’s probably the first time.
Nick talks quietly in his ear for a second, and I suddenly realize that I’m a prying eye on a very private conversation. I step away, letting the two talk, both grinning, mirrored faces with mirrored joy at opening a new chapter in their relationship.
Finally I notice that they’re both looking at me. Jack elbows Nick in the ribs lightly, and Nick jokingly pushes him toward the crowd. Jack disappears with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Nick picks up the dropped backpack and meets me on the meridian. The park is emptying, the music stopped.
“Sounds like the fuzz have gotten to Kara,” Nick says, smoothing back his hair. There’s a glow about him, a light in his eyes that I haven’t seen since Paris.
“I take it your apology went over well,” I say.
He smirks. “Yeah well, promise the little bastard that he and his friends can meet Kara and I think he’d forgive me if I pushed him out a window.”
