unworthiness if you let him, brooding alone across the
divide.”
The divide. An almost poetic way to describe the break
in him, the cracked edge over a rift that Alex had never
defined. But it was there, an empty valley separating him
from the other half of his mind, from this happiness around
him, from Everett. It was real and ever present, if waiting to
be crossed. He could feel it, like the wet pain of an open
wound.
“It"s
my
unhappiness, Everett. I"ve earned the right to
dwell in it from time to time,” Alex snapped back, a true
idiot, because he hated the black thoughts that kept him
apart, but they were his, and without them he wouldn"t be
who he was.
61
A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper
Everett opened his mouth, and then suddenly George
was between them and ordering Alex to his feet.
“How about a walk down to the park with the kids to
burn off some of that energy?” It was a question, but he
wasn"t asking. Alex got to his feet, though he was vibrating
with tension, and the cookies and coffee weren"t sitting easy
in his stomach. He looked at his trembling hands in
something like shock and then over at Everett in complete
fear. Everett seemed far away, Robert at his side distracting
him by stealing bits of dough.
Alex tried to form an apology and then realized he didn"t
want to, not with George staring him down. Wasn"t it enough
that he"d written into every page, every poem, the words
Everett wouldn"t let him say?
Forgive me
.
“Playing with rambunctious children in the bitter cold,
that"s just how I wanted to spend my day,” he remarked
quietly instead, but knew his sarcasm would be ignored or
overruled. George took his arm.
“There"s some work I can find after that if you"re still
feeling feisty,” he continued as he steered him from the
room. Alex looked back. Everett was braiding bread into an
intricate ring. His lips were a thin line. He didn"t look up as
they passed.
62
A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper
lex was back in just over an hour, freezing his balls
off even with his coat and gloves on, and
A humiliatingly aware that all the kids and George were
still merrily frolicking down at the park, squealing
their way down metal slides that had to burn, they"d
been so cold.
He walked to the kitchen door, though the front door
would have been faster, and had only opened it a fraction
when he paused at the yeasty smell of rising dough and the
quick flurry of words coming from inside.
It was a strange feeling that stopped him, not exactly
the childhood fear that he couldn"t possibly be welcome
inside, but something similar. The Faraday house was his
idea of
home
, but as a boy he had never let himself fully
forget that it was someone else"s home and any moment he
might be refused permission to cross their threshold for any
number of crimes. It wasn"t anything they had done. In fact,
they had gone out of their way to treat him as family from
almost the beginning, which meant giving him chores and
involving him in disputes and the conspiracy to get George to
quit smoking a few years ago.
Perhaps that was why the tension coming from the
kitchen now held him back. He had a sense, however
irrational it may have been, that those inside had waited for
him to be gone to give them freedom to talk. He also had a
feeling, far less irrational, that it was a conversation they
had had before; perhaps it was the exhausted frustration in
Everett"s voice with every answer.
63
A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper
Leaving them for so long, not driving down for parties or
Thanksgiving, suddenly seemed like an unforgiveable
mistake, though he"d had his reasons.
It had been a year since he"d last driven down here.
Many things must have taken place that he didn"t know
about. But the sound of voices in the kitchen, conversations
happening without his knowledge, made him go utterly still.
He was breathing too hard for the short walk back from
the park and shook his head at his own stupidity. Of course
life went on without him, and people spoke even when he
wasn"t there. Of course Everett and his mother would have
things to say they would not say with him around.
But a noise slipped from him despite his clenched jaw,
and he pressed closer to the door, on the outside listening in
for any scrap of Everett"s secrets.
“Where did you put my vanilla, Everett?” Ally stopped in
the middle of whatever she had been saying to ask the
question. Alex inhaled and thought he smelled chocolate, as
though she was making cocoa. She probably was. The
children had said something about it waiting for them when
they returned from the park.
Everett must have responded silently, because she
dropped the question and went inexorably back to the
subject that had left Alex frozen on her doorstep.
“You aren"t getting any younger, Everett.” He"d never
heard her use that tone, at least never on Everett.
“I know that.” Everett"s voice held a thread of irritation,
or maybe embarrassment. Alex thought of Everett at his
64
A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper
birthday again, and his face over the warm glow of so many
candles, and the faint sensation that Everett was counting
more than candles when he"d looked at him.
Alex let out a breath.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Ally, or someone, did
something with a pot or pan that drowned out anything else
she might have said.
It must not have been the first time she"d asked.
Everett"s voice went lower, quiet with desperation and
warning.
“Mom.”
“There"s no such thing as perfection.” Ally went on, and
Alex wondered, vaguely, if she was holding herself upright
with that angle to her chin that Everett got when he was
being stubborn, and if Everett was as well in that moment.
“I know that.” This was even more hushed, as though
Everett had turned away.
“I think everyone knows that, Mom.” Robert piped up
from somewhere farther away. Robert wasn"t seeing anyone
right now that Alex knew of, so if anyone ought to be getting
a lecture about his love life, it was him. Maybe Molly, but
Molly was younger and still had some leeway that Everett
was being denied.
Alex pictured him cornered by his mother behind the
counter, sticky with dough or icing, and trying not to stare
back at her. But he would eventually. They were too alike,
and she"d see through his attempts to hide anything.
65
A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper
He wished he had her powers and immediately felt like a
hypocritical ass, because if he"d wanted Everett"s few
remaining secrets, he could have had them whenever he
wanted.
“There will never be a time when everything is great,
when
everything
is better. What you do have is the ability to
work to try to keep things mostly good, and even that takes a
lot of work.”
“I
know
, Mom.” Everett did. Couldn"t Ally hear it in the
clawing need in his voice? “I know. I"m not—” He stopped.
“It"s a struggle.” Ally pressed. Rich cocoa scents filled
the air, escaping the kitchen the way Everett couldn"t. “It"s
always a struggle, but you"re strong enough—”
Everett"s sudden bitter laugh made Alex flinch and his
mother go quiet.
“You think I don"t know that?” He was speaking loud
enough that his siblings, if more than Robert were present,
had to hear him. “I"ve been strong my entire life. My entire…
I"m not sure what a help it is, but I know that. You think I"m
afraid of
work
?”
Alex focused on the cold around him, the sting at his
cheeks, the whispers of his breath vanishing with every hard