“On the plus side, you’re gonna be every airport security guard’s favorite person.” Dr. Clarissa teased. She made her way back to me, a few gauze pads and bandages in hand as she gently disinfected and covered up my newly popped stitches. “But, seriously, we’ll print you a card and everything, so they know you’re not carrying contraband.”

  “What if I am carrying contraband, though?” I asked jokingly.

  That got a smile on the doc’s face. As she finished wrapping me up, she leaned back in her chair, once more carefully peeling off her gloves. “So, how’s it been the past week, Chaz? When you called the office, I remember the front desk mentioning something about concussion questions?”

  Right. Finally, it was time to get some answers. “Y-Yeah. I hope this isn’t a stupid question,”

  Dr. Clarissa shook her head again, giving me a reassuring smile. “Trust me, I’ve heard my fair share of ‘stupid questions’. I can handle whatever you throw my way.”

  We’ll see about that. Still, there was no point in doubling back now, so I took a deep breath and laid it out on the table. “Have any of your other concussion patients ever talked about…having weird feelings…for someone they didn’t have feelings for before?”

  Bless the doc for being such a professional. The question sounded incredibly childish coming out of my mouth, but Dr. Clarissa treated it with the grace and poise of someone who’d asked her about a newly discovered disease. “Well,” she began carefully. “I’ve observed patients in the past who experienced mood swings or emotional distress. After all, the brain holds so much information about who we are; it’s only natural to expect a few changes after hitting it hard enough against something.”

  That was somewhat of a relief to hear. “So, I’m not crazy?”

  “You might feel crazy,” Dr. Clarissa said. “But I promise you it’s perfectly natural. Being prone to sudden outbursts or developing feelings for others, as you suggested, are all expected with concussion patients. Everyone’s experience is a little different,” she added. “But the overall results are the same. You suffered cranial trauma, Chaz, so don’t try and push yourself to be yourself. I wouldn’t be surprised if this event changes parts of your fundamental core. After all, this was a major life event.”

  A major life event, huh? “Do you think,” I paused, not quite sure how I wanted to phrase this next question. “I mean, do people change just from something physically traumatic?” I couldn’t stop thinking about what Amanda had said, how long I’d dealt with Caroline’s attitude regarding the girls. I really had been taking care of them so long by myself…maybe…?

  Dr. Clarissa pursed her lips. “Well, psychology’s not really my area of expertise…but I personally think so, yes.” She eyed me carefully, a gentle look spreading across her face. “Are you interested in seeing a therapist, perhaps? I’d be happy to give you some recommendations, if you’d like. That’s something else I find common among concussion patients, especially those who went through something similarly distressing, like yourself. Honestly, I usually require some form of therapy, but given your situation, I advised against doing it so quickly.”

  “I,” Swallowing, speaking suddenly became much harder with the lump that’d formed in my throat. “Can I get back to you on that?”

  “Of course!” Dr. Clarissa reassured. “But if you ever want that information, just call my front desk. I’ll leave the contact info with every member of my staff, so someone’ll get you what you need.”

  I managed a numb nod as a nurse came in with my new crutch. Dr. Clarissa then began running me through the basics, but I only heard every other word. My mind was still reeling with all this new information, formulating opinions and blowing up about the worst-case scenarios. Was everyone else right? Had I just been on my own for too long, not open to the idea of trusting—really trusting—others with the girls? Could I be threatened and interested in Ariel? I could barely process it all, feeling like I’d run a mile after practicing with my crutch back and forth across the room.

  “Crazy how tiring it is, huh?” Dr. Clarissa asked with a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry; you’ll get your stamina back as long as you keep practicing. We’ll send the wheelchair home with you just in case, but it looks like maybe you’d like it now?”

  Again, I nodded numbly. All I wanted to do now was sleep, fall into a dark abyss so my mind would shut off for a few hours.

  ***

  “W-wait, what do you mean you’re taking my kids?!”

  I sighed heavily, ready to leave this dump of an apartment as soon as possible. “I’ve been sending you legal papers for weeks, Caroline. You decided to ignore it.”

  “Ignore it, my ass!” Caroline snapped, storming toward the nursery as she slammed the door shut. A fit of wails started inside as she locked the door from the outside. “You get my girls over my dead body, asshole.”

  “Caroline, you can’t just lock them in there!” I started forward, only to stop as Caroline brandished what looked to be a spent needle at me. Of course, she was completely out of it; I wasn’t even sure what she took. “Caroline,” I stepped slowly back, hands raised defensively as I tried to speak as calmly as I could. “You need to unlock the door. Irene and Nadia are crying. Don’t you hear them?”

  Caroline blinked slowly, that glassy-eyed expression long since familiar to me. She lowered the needle to her side, head somewhat cocked as she tried to listen for the sound. The loud, almost impossible to miss sound of two toddlers screaming their lungs out. “Irene?” Caroline turned toward the door needle abandoned to clatter against the ground. “Nadia? It’s okay…Mommy’s here…”

  I took a chance charging her like I did. When the cops finally came to the apartment, they reassured me that I’d made the right call. Given the state my sister was in, there was no telling what she might’ve done. I watched her get led out the building in cuffs, doing my best to try and soothe the twins back to some state of calm.

  “You’re her brother, yeah?” One of the cops asked me. “Shame what’s happened. Those two deserve better.”

  All I could do was nod in response. Hopefully, the court would agree.

  ***

  The sun had long since fallen when I woke up again. I vaguely remembered passing in and out inside Amanda’s car, shuffling into the house and immediately dropping into bed. She and Ariel started up some sort of conversation, but at that point, everyone had fallen into a blissful blur of sleep. Which was fine by me; it felt like my head was to the bursting point with thoughts and conflicting feelings.

  I did my best to sit up, getting better at maneuvering with just one arm. For this house especially, it was strangely quiet. As dark as it was outside, there was no way it was the girls’ bedtime. That got me moving out of bed, awkwardly slipping my bathrobe on as I started out my room. A soft glow emanating from the kitchen; part of me feared the worst and thought a fire had broken out. I was partially right, at any rate. Someone had set up a multitude of candles around the counterspace, with Ariel casually scrolling through something on his phone. He looked up, quickly stowing the phone away as he gave me a welcoming smile. “You’re up! I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

  “Why are there…?” I gestured around to the candles, still feeling somewhat groggy.

  Ariel followed my hand, realization spreading across his face. “Oh, that. While you were asleep, a windstorm rolled in and knocked out the power. Took out quite a few people’s electricity,” he added with a grimace. “Ours included.”

  “And the girls?” I asked.

  “I thought it best for Amanda to take the girls to Jane’s house,” Ariel explained. “Her neighborhood still has power, so that means lights and hot water.”

  And a TV-slash-microwave, which was a staple for raising kids. “Y-Yeah, okay.” I felt somewhat betrayed, having hoped at least Amanda would’ve checked with me to make sure that was okay to do. Then again, anything with Jane lately has made Amanda practically jump out of her chair. Good call on my part to introduce the two.

  “Yes,” Ariel straightened himself, hands slightly rubbing together. “And, well…Amanda suggested it would be good for us to spend the evening together. Maybe discuss how the week has been going so far?”

  That crafty bitch, she’d set me up on a date. I wasn’t sure if Ariel was just playing dumb or he genuinely didn’t make that connection, but dinner over lit candlelight screamed romance. Still, I’d do my best to play it chill; no reason to jump on something that doesn’t exist. “Uh, sure. Did you,” I blinked, taking in the kitchen’s atmosphere once more. “Did you wait to start cooking until I woke up?”

  Even through candlelight, it was easy to see Ariel’s blush. “I…remember you saying something about enjoying the act. My hope was, now that you could maneuver a little easier, to instill a sense of normalcy back into your routine. If you’d like to, of course.”

  God, I felt positively bi-polar around this guy. Threatened one minute, infatuated the next. “I’d…like that, actually. Was that why you were on your phone, by chance?”

  Ariel rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, yes, you caught me. I’m not very good without a recipe to follow, I’m afraid.”

  Oh, he was in for one hell of a night, then. “Ari, prepare to learn how to cook on the fly, then.” I grinned.

  Chapter Nine

  In my humble opinion, there was no dinner as on-the-fly as macaroni and cheese. You could go with the basic box concoction, but I swore to always make it up from scratch once the girls were old enough to eat solid foods. Making the base of the sauce was easy enough, but adding the flavor was the best part. And, for once, I could get a bit more experimental with the flavors.

  “What are you melting butter for?” Ariel asked as he put a pot of water on the stovetop. “I thought we were making macaroni?”

  “We are,” I reassured him. “I’m making the base for the sauce.”

  “We’re not making it from a box?” Ariel almost sounded worried, like the wrong set of ingredients would come to life as some Frankenstein monster.

  I gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder with my good hand. “Just add flour until I tell you to stop. This is a little trickier without two hands.”

  He nodded, obviously aware that a watched pot doesn’t boil. Placing the lid overtop, Ariel shuffled to my side, taking a measuring cup and dipping it into a bag of flour. He held it over the saucepan hesitantly, looking to me for the go-ahead.

  “Yeah, just, dump it in,” I chuckled, watching him daintily shake out the contents. “I thought you were the oldest of your siblings, Ari? Never learned to cook for them?”

  “W-well, I usually just made breakfast and lunches for everyone,” Ariel admitted as he went for another scoop of flour. “Abba and Ema were always home in time to start dinner. They made it look so…easy.”

  Now I understood why Amanda had to come over and cook. “Well, making a roux is the pinnacle of ease. Don’t be afraid to just drop the flour in, either. I want it and the butter to clump up.”

  After the flour came the milk, which meant almost five full minutes of careful whisking until I had the consistency I wanted. Ariel watched me with intense interest, adding milk whenever I asked. “Don’t add anymore flour, though,” I said as he reached for the measuring cup.

  “But it looks so thin,” Ariel began.

  “I’ll just let it cook down a bit,” I reassured him. “Otherwise, we’ll just taste nothing but flour.”

  Then, the absolute best part of the process; the cheese. I practically cleaned out the entirety of our fridge, positively ticked to finally use the other flavors other than mozzarella and American. “Okay, so taste what we have and let me know what feels good together,” I said.

  “Me?” Ariel looked completely taken aback. “But, y-you’re the expert chef.”

  I couldn’t help but grin at such a compliment. “Honestly, flavor is just a balancing act. You just throw stuff together that you think tastes good.”

  The poor guy looked like a high schooler trying to ask his crush to the prom. He looked over all the ingredients we’d pulled out, taking nibbles of cheese and other herbs before finally—hesitantly—handing me his arrangement.

  “Basil, pepper jack, and cheddar, huh?” I nodded slowly, beginning to pull the slices apart and throw it into the saucepan. “Yeah, I think that’ll work to start. Grab me a lemon and a bit of chicken base, would yah?”

  Ariel nodded, starting toward the fridge with a bemused look on his face. “I would never think to add chicken flavor to mac-and-cheese.”

  “You’d be amazed how much flavor it adds,” I replied.

  Ariel quickly returned, handing me the jar of chicken base and a pre-cut lemon. I only took the jar, pushing the lemon back into his hand. “No, you gotta do this part. It requires two hands.”

  God, the look on his face was absolutely priceless.

  “Here. I’ll be one hand, you be the other.” Once I dropped a spoonful of chicken base into the sauce, I gestured to Ariel to take center stage. He stepped forward hesitantly, lemon in hand like it was the last hope for humanity. “Okay, now you squeeze the lemon over my hand,” I explained as I saddled up right behind him. My face felt like the surface of the sun; I don’t think we’d ever stood this close to each other. “I—it’ll catch the pulp and seeds that pop out of the lemon.”

  Ariel nodded, giving the fruit a hesitant squeeze. A few dribbles of juice ran through the creases of my palm, but nothing else. “A-Ah…harder than that?”

  He sounded as embarrassed as I did. “Uh, yeah. Little harder.”

  Ariel let out a bit of a grunt, seemingly surprised at how tough the yellow citrus was. Both hands cupped around the lemon as he squeezed harder, the juice finally spurting out and into the pan while I caught the excess. “A-ah!” He let out a startled laugh, pressing into my chest as he stumbled back. “That was so sudden!”

  All I could think of was how well his frame fit against mine. “Um, y-yeah. That tends to, uh, happen s-sometimes.” For a moment, his eyes locked with mine, both of us lost in the thoughts of the other. How was it possible to be so…enthralled…with someone I still found myself frustrated with? Was he thinking the same thing? Something similar?

  “Th-the sauce,” Ariel managed to get out

  A slight, burning tang brought me back to reality. I quickly moved past Ariel, turning the burner’s flame as low as it could get before furiously stirring the sauce. Some darker flecks were torn off from underneath the pan, but what was a dish without a bit of crunch?

  “I’ll, ah, check the water pot, then.” Ariel stood on the other side of me, the two of us fully focused on our tasks as the dinner came slowly together.

  Well, mostly focused, anyway.

  ***

  It was the first time in a long time I was watching an adult movie in my living room. I didn’t even care that it was some junky, action-packed, car-chaser of a movie; even the likes of, ‘The Wild and the Windswept’ couldn’t get under my skin. It was the testosterone-filled joyride I hadn’t had in literally years, only made better by how into it Ariel obviously was. He was completely enamored with every chase scene and gasping at every over-the-top explosion, even though I was certain he’d seen this particular movie before. I was less watching the actual film and more watching his reactions.

  Finally, the credits began to roll past the screen. Ariel sat back on the couch, his second serving of mac and cheese reduced to crumbs as he let out a delighted laugh. “God, it gets me every time. I’m glad you agreed to see this with me. I find watching movies far more enjoyable with company.”

  I could easily say the same. “I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and say this is one of your top ten favorites?”

  “Try top five,” Ariel said. “Though I know it sorely lacks in story, it certainly makes up for it in its effects and stunt work. It was what I wanted to be when I grew up, before realizing everything the characters did was incredibly illegal.”

  That got a laugh out of me. “That was me, but with superheroes. My dumb, twelve-year-old self quickly figured out I couldn’t fly after jumping off my family’s rooftop.”

  Ariel gasped, placing his plate onto the coffee table. “Chaz, no. Were you okay?”

  “I did a number on my arm, but it was nothing compared to what my mom put me through.” I glanced at my broken arm, sighing wistfully. “Can’t believe I forgot about that until now. Guess this isn’t the first time I’ve been in a cast.”

  “What would the odds be that you’ve broken the same arm?” Ariel asked.

  “I don’t even remember which one it was,” I admitted. “I just remember waking up to it colored in hearts and flowers one day. I was fully intent on killing my sister.” That memory gave me pause; it’d been awhile since I thought of me and Caroline as kids. Something that was…somewhat happy. Even Ariel had fallen silent at the mention of my sister. She had an uncanny knack for turning a nice moment awkward.

  “You’re…still no-contact with her, right?” Ariel asked.

  I nodded curtly. “She hasn’t convinced me otherwise, so there’s no need to bring it up to the judge.”

  Ariel was quiet for another beat or two, watching the credits as they vanished off the screen. Eventually, it was brought back to my Couch Potato streaming service, the both of us just staring at the other movie selections silently. Finally, Ariel spoke up again. “Are you angry with me, Chaz?”

  The question came right out of nowhere, “Am I…what?”

  Ariel turned his upper body toward me, giving me his full attention. “Over the past week of me staying here…it’s been hard not to notice things here and there. I’m rather familiar with what an irritated guardian looks like, so, if there’s something that’s bothering you…”

  I sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. This is what I wanted, though, right? To tell him all the things he did this week regarding the girls? Letting Nadia break down like that at the park…I still couldn’t get the noise out of my mind. It was like my dream had been put on loop, an endless, terrible echo that went throughout my head.

 

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