Page 37 of Devil's Valentine
I’ve been plagued with nightmares as today has loomed closer. I’ve dreamed about my brothers turning on me, on them hurling insults and hatred at me, of them telling me that I fucked them up even more than our father. Whenever I’ve woken up crying and sweating, Dean has been right there to hold me close and reassure me.
“If you don’t mind,” Angie begins, her eyes filled with understanding and knowing, “I need to see the rooms where the boys will be living.”
“Of course,” I breathe, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’d love to show you. We talked to the boys about what they wanted, I hope we got it right.”
I wring my hands together as fear and nervousness tries to take me under. Dean covers my hands with one of his and then twines our fingers together. He grounds me.
Dean leads us through the house, an odd parade of people under the banner of hopes and dreams. I desperately want this to go well, and I know Angie does as well. I just hope that I found my brothers in time to show them that whatever dreams they have, though they may be shattered right now, can be pieced back together and fulfilled.
Dean stops in front of a door and opens his, his voice deep and thick with emotion, “This is Ezekiel’s room.”
He’s been so strong through all of this, for me, but I know he’s had his own worries. He doesn’t want to let me down, but what he doesn’t realize is that it’s not possible. How could it be when he’s my rock and the best thing that’s ever happened to me?
Ezekiel steps into the room with Angie following close behind. My littlest brother spins around in the room taking in the light blue walls and the baseball theme he said he wanted. I guess the only thing our father let him do was play T-ball one year. He was never allowed to play again, but it stuck with him.
He can play again, I’ve already looked into local leagues for kids, but I didn’t sign him up. I won’t do that without talking to him first. Too many of his choices have been taken away from him and I won’t be another adult to do that.
“This is my room?” There’s awe and a little disbelief in his voice.
Malcolm stands at the threshold of his little brother’s room, his eyes taking in everything like a hawk. Angie watches Ezekiel carefully, a smile playing on her lips.
I clear my throat and hope it sounds steady. “Yup,” I assure him, “this is all yours.”
He turns to Malcolm with so many questions in his eyes. Then he looks at me and blurts, “We don’t have to share a room anymore?”
“No,” I shake my head and point to the door across the hall, “that’s Malcolm’s room.”
Malcolm spins around and stares at the door, his eyes wide and a little glassy. He looks at the door for what feels like forever and then he snaps his gaze over to me and Dean.
I nod slowly while offering, “Go ahead and check it out.”
He’s old enough. He knows and he’s had to grow up far too fast for his young age. I want this to be on his terms, to be his choice.
With only a few strides he’s at the door and wrenching it open. Angie steps into the room behind him and I watch with Dean from the doorway. His room is a dark hunter green, a color he picked out. Everything in the room has to do with music, the one escape he was able to find and hold onto while everything else in his life felt like it was unstable.
I’ve found a guitar teacher who comes highly recommended. Malcolm mentioned wanting to learn and I want to foster that in him. Who knows what kind of beauty could come from him? I won’t be the one to stifle it, I want to watch it grow.
Angie nods decisively like everything is exactly how she expected it. Malcolm turns to us with guarded eyes.
“This is really mine,” he challenges? “You won’t take everything away once Angie is gone?”
I stiffen at the accusation and the pain behind it. So much has already been taken away from him and my heart aches for him.
Angie doesn’t say anything. She arches an eyebrow as if to say ‘the ball is in your court’.
“Nothing will be taken away from you, Malcolm,” I vow.
“Unless you disobey the rules, and you will have rules,” Dean lets my brothers know since Ezekiel has now joined us in the hallway. “You will respect your sister, me, the home we all share. You will go to school, and you will do the best you can. We’ll help you with whatever you need. You’ll be here for dinner, and you’ll run plans by us before you commit to them because we want to keep you safe.”
“Your rules are shit,” Malcolm spits and Ezekiel gasps.
I look at my littlest brother and his eyes fill with tears and fear. He knows what Malcolm is doing just as much as Dean and Angie knows. When I wrap an arm around his shoulders, he burrows into my side.
Malcolm’s eyes flash with remorse and jealousy before he masks it. For a moment, I’m stunned.
“Language,” I chastise him and then bite my lip because that’s really the least of our problems at the moment.
“Our rules might be shit, but you will still follow them,” Dean’s voice holds a note of authority, one I love and cling to. “This is our home, all of our home. It won’t be easy at first, weall need to learn about each other, but this is your home. You are safe here and you won’t be going anywhere. You are home,” there’s a finality in Deans words and I feel it to my marrow.
