To Build a Home

11 | Poison and Wine

"This is their room," Darren said.

I was so determined to get him into the first available bed, I didn't even realize where we were headed. We both looked around at the room. The shades were still open, the moon shining in. We could see everything clearly. The hamper was overflowing in the corner, makeup was scattered across the top of the dresser, and Phil's wedding ring was on his nightstand, the silver band catching the light coming in through the window.

I went to the nightstand and held up the ring, inspected it. "I didn't even realize he wasn't wearing it today. I mean, the body. I mean... Why did he take it off?" I looked at Darren, who always had all the answers. I wondered if it was more of a burden to be the one who knows everything or the one who doesn't.

He sat down on the bed, and then quickly rose when he realized he was on their bed. "He probably took it off for work and forgot," Darren said. "Theresa was always on him about it. He broke a few on the job."

With Darren about to topple over, it was a problem for another day. I put the ring back on the nightstand. "Get back in the bed," I said to Darren, but he refused. It was like having three toddlers in the house. One appeared when the other disappeared like the bop-a-mole of parenting. Noah would probably be up any second after sleeping all day. "Where are you going to sleep? You can't make it home."

"It's two minutes away." He pointed in a random direction like a human spaghetti compass. Then there was a brief moment where the real Darren reappeared. "I can't sleep here, Ryan," he pleaded.

"Well I'm not letting you walk home by yourself."

I grabbed a pair of shorts from the hamper and put his arm around my shoulder. We went down the stairs, one very slow step at a time, and I placed Darren against the wall. "Stay," I urged him. Then I went into the living room to check on Noah. He was still asleep, tucked under a blanket, and his forehead no longer felt like the inside of an oven. I whispered that I would be right back.

Outside, no longer worried about waking the entire house, I let Darren walk on his own. He wandered into the street, slowly zigzagging, and I tried to catch him, but it was better to let him find his way. So I joined him in the street, ready to catch him at any second. We walked towards his house, guided by the street lights and the moon.

The summer night was warm and there was a light breeze in the trees on either side of the street. The creek could be heard behind the houses and the bugs called to each other in the grass. Every so often, a lightning bug flashed and then disappeared. There were a few lights on in the houses, yellow or blue from TVs, but mostly it was dark and we were alone.

"I don't like your boyfriend," Darren said.

I laughed. Darren couldn't dislike the devil. "That's not true."

"No, it's not. But I want to not like him."

"Why?"

Darren didn't respond. Instead, he increased the speed of his zigzags.

"Wait," I said. "Which one is yours?"

Darren stopped and looked around. And then he pointed at the white-brick house we had just passed. We turned around. I shook my head and pulled him out of the street. I should have known it was his house, it had the Baker Brothers sign with Phil's face on the lawn. Darren tripped over nothing and I stabilized him by draping his arm over my shoulder again.

We walked up the path to the front door. "Do you have the key?" I asked. He slapped his thighs as if feeling for the keys and then shrugged. I rolled my eyes and searched myself. I dug my hand in each of his pockets, first the right and then the left, feeling the bulging muscle of his thighs as I patted him down. But they were empty. "Shit."

Just as I was about to head back, Darren bent down and found the spare key underneath a rock in the mulch. He unlocked the door and opened it. I hadn't been inside his house since I had arrived, but now was not the time for tours.

"Here we are. Are you ok on your own from here?" I asked.

He nodded, but didn't budge. We were standing at the doorway, frame-width apart. He looked at me like he had in the hallway outside of the guest bedroom just moments before. I waited for him to say something, but he kept staring like he hadn't seen me every day for the past week. It made me nervous.

"I'm sorry for getting you drunk tonight. I'm a bad influence," I said to fill the silence. I didn't know how long he had been sober, but I didn't want to be the reason he compromised his beliefs. We got caught up in the mishaps and the excitement and missing my brother.

And then suddenly, but in slow motion, but as fast as it was inevitable, but slower than slow motion, but all at once, with red wine on his lips, the moon and the stars and the streetlights swirling around us, more surprising than all of the surprise parties in the world, Darren, the object of my high school fantasies, unreachable, beloved, savior in my times of need, familiar, kind, Darren, kissed me. 

Author's Note: I'm freaking out. Are you freaking out?! To celebrate getting this far,  I created a word doodle from the words in the first ten chapters. No surprise Darren is the most popular. Check it out below. And keep the votes and comments coming!

What do you think Rayn is going to do?!