Starts with a Match

The Pin is Out

Tiana did not disappoint with Toby's spicy chili. It's so intense that even their eyes water, and that means I don't dare try any of it. Alex digs in, though, and gasps that he may have found a new favorite thing.

We start a game of hangman on a napkin, we do tic-tac-toe like Claire and I used to do when she was on her breaks at the diner.

We talk with some of the servers who think Alex is adorable and who are totally drawn into Toby's, I'd guess you say, mysterious aura. Or just sexy eyes. Cause they have both.

So many ladies swing by and lean on their side of the booth, while Toby just reclines into me, chatting up these pretty women.

I find the entire thing delightful, especially when the fifth person in asks if Toby's single, and they laugh and introduce me, their husband.

At home, Alex shows me and Toby to our room. Never told them we weren't actually a married couple who share a bed, so we just get the full-sized guest room. I offer to sleep on the floor, and Toby doesn't argue with it.

They're outside with Alex now. Their thought process was to get as much of his machete energy out as possible, so he'd be satisfied and wouldn't need to bring it back out again. So he's showing Toby some moves against the already beaten up back porch.

Meanwhile, while I'm searching for toiletries in my bag to be ready for bed in a few hours—I like having things laid out ahead of time—Claire comes into the guest room. "How you doing, Mickey?"

"Good, thanks. Lunch was uh, fun—" I grin and check her over my shoulder.

She's frowning, arms crossed, leaning on the door frame. For once I'm struggling to frown back. "What's up?"

"You two..." she says, nodding her head behind her to where we can hear Toby and Alex doing karate noises, "are you two like. In an open marriage?"

"What?" I mean yes, but no? But. Yeah I guess. "What do you mean?"

"Toby was just outright flirting at lunch. If you weren't there, I swear they'd have gone home with numbers. Or a girl. Or two."

"Yeah but I was there," I scoff. And yes, I'm aware of the other things, too. If we were just two friends who were going back to a hotel in Pendleton, they'd have gotten at least six dates lined up for tomorrow alone.

"Are they usually like that? They never were when they visited," Claire continues. "Is something...wrong? Between you two?"

She's goading. She wants answers. She won't stop pushing until she gets them. Old Kooper family trait.

Mentally, I can see it. Claire's got a grenade. She's tossing it casually in the air. I know on my next question, she'll send it my way.

"Usually like what?" I catch the grenade, throw it back.

"So...I don't know—"

She shoots the grenade at me. I smack it back. "Yeah, you do, spit it out—"

"So loose?" she says, wiggling her shoulders like the word makes her sick.

I recoil at her, grip the grenade for a hot second.

This is how our arguments always went. Back and forth, building and building and beating around the actual subject. Not like me and Eli who'd talk things through, calm, even when I was pissed. Or Hannah who'd let me say my entire piece, and she'd then say hers.

Or Toby. Who doesn't like the tense build up, the rubber band wound tighter and tighter. The grenade thrown back and forth. They like to just get things out. "What're you implying?" I ask, throwing the grenade back.

"Have you gotten any tests done? Do you need to get checked for..." Claire grimaces and waves a hand at me, aiming low.

Her head whips over her shoulder and she rushes at me. "Like, are you two using protection? Otherwise who knows what they might—"

"Are you slut shaming your sibling-in-law?" I snap. Grenade. To her.

Claire's cheeks blossom and she scoffs, shoulders raised. "No! No I'm not, I'm just saying I'd be angry as hell if Eren were flirting up a storm with servers like that—" grenade, to me.

To her. "Well I'm not you, and Toby's not Eren, and I'm not angry as hell."

"Why not? Are you two not having sex? Did they cheat on you while you were deployed?" to me, hard, right in the chest.

To her, aiming for her face. "Oh my God, Claire, shut the fuck up!"

"What!"

"Don't what me—stop trying to control my life—"

"I'm not trying to control your life—I'm just trying to protect you—"

"Why don't you try protecting your fucking son and not letting him buy a machete from a friend?"

"It's not like he's hitting anyone with it—"

"But he could get hurt, Claire, or hurt someone else! He's got like five rowdy friends coming over tomorrow, someone's gonna lose a fucking hand."

"He's not an idiot!"

"And he's not a soldier, who's trained to use it, either!"

"Stop trying to change the subject. You remember Bonny when you were a teenager."

"Yes, I remember Bonny, she actually cheated on me, and I was like fifteen, and I don't care if Toby sleeps around as long as they're safe."

"So you are in an open marriage. You can't be happy like that, Kevin, trust me—"

"Trust you and all your marriage expertise—"

"I was married longer than you've been!"

"Yeah and you were gonna get a divorce before Eren died!"

She chucks the grenade at me. "Shut the hell up, Kevin, for fucks sake, you're not gonna be happy in an open marriage, it's not a real marriage, they'll leave you and you'll be alone, again! And it'll be your damn fault!"

I catch it, yank out the pin, and throw it hard as I can. "It's already not a real marriage because they don't love me!" And boom, it detonates.

Claire claps her mouth closed and her brows skyrocket into her bangs. "What?" she gasps.

I groan and rub hard at my face. "We married for benefits! We're not in love, we're not together, we don't want kids. We're roommates. They needed a place, and I needed to not be in the barracks. Along with—with a thousand other things. They don't love me. It's not a relationship besides that. It's just for safety and sanity and bullshit to keep us both alive."

She stutters, presses her lips hard again.

I think of Toby after I did the exact same thing to them. Cornered them until they were forced to blow. Only they held the grenade to themselves the whole time. Took the brunt of the blast then went their room, destroyed. Alone.

Man. Fighting with family fucking sucks. It's like screaming into a mirror, smashing your fist to the glass. No one wins.

Claire won't apologize. Not with words, she's never been good at that. She rubs the back of her neck under her hair, winces at me, looks to the ground. She mutters that she's gonna check on Alex and Toby, and she leaves.

I take a shower to wash the smell of Twin Peaks and blood off me. Cause there's that fucking cherry again, lingering through the house, coming from everywhere and just in my mind. Always, always.