Ethan, Who Loved Carter (20 page)

“Okay.”

Carter didn’t let himself think on the drive to the store. He needed time for himself. Liz and Nolan had both been over a few times and sat next to Ethan on the couch while he refused to speak. When they got up, they’d kissed Ethan on the head. After the first time, Ethan started carrying the blanket around so he could cover his head with it. He yanked it up like a shield the next time they came.

At the store, Carter bought Cheetos, but he also bought apples, bananas, oranges and peaches. Maybe he could get Ethan to eat those instead of crackers. At the checkout, a drunk man argued with the person in front of him. The urge to tic centered in Carter’s arm. Gripping the shopping cart, he held on until it passed. He didn’t need to get involved in a confrontation while Ethan waited for him. One touch payment with his card made checking out easy. He was back on the road fifteen minutes after he parked in the store’s lot. His phone rang as he began the drive home.

“Mom?”

“It’s your father!” His dad’s booming voice, always ripe with cheer, filled the car through the phone’s hands-free speaker. “I’m on the road, heading over to Pensacola. Thought I’d call and see how my boy’s doing. Everything okay out there in—where’d you move to?”

“Santa Josephina,” Carter said. His father sold farm insurance all over the South. Long hours on the road prompted him to call anyone he could to help pass the time, but he hadn’t called Carter in awhile. “It’s fine. Dad, look, I’m driving right now. Can I call you back?”

“Something wrong?” Dad’s voice slid down into a more serious mode.

“No, I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“You can always talk to me.”

“I know.” It was a common lie. Dad said it all the time, but Carter knew that if he ever took him up on it, his father would make the time between his calls even longer. “Everything’s great. The new house is beautiful.”

“Mom and I can’t wait to come out and see it. How’s October for you?”

That was a few months away. “Yeah, sure.” Plenty of time for them to change their minds.

“You making new friends?”

“Alice comes up.”

“Anyone local?”

“A few people.” Ethan’s friends counted, didn’t they?

“Good. Good. You have a boyfriend?”

“Well….”

“You do!” The cheer returned. Carter couldn’t help but smile. “Tell me about him!”

“He lives next door—”

“Convenient.”

“Yeah. With his family. He’s actually… he’s not feeling well at the moment, so I’m kind of in a hurry to get back to him.”

“Oh, sure, I understand. I’ll let you go. Next time we’ll get Mom on the phone and you can tell both of us all about him. You seem happy. Are you?”

Carter answered without hesitation. “Yes. I am.”

“Good. I love you, Carter.”

“I love you too.”

Carter ended the call. He didn’t know why he hadn’t told his father about Ethan’s brain damage. It was a difficult thing to discuss over the phone, and how could he explain that aspect of Ethan and nothing else? That would be unfair to both of them. On the other hand, his mother would wonder why he’d never mentioned Ethan to her. The cat was out now. He didn’t think she’d be surprised. He was slower to reveal his relationships with each new one, as he waited to see how they would go wrong. But he and Ethan weren’t going wrong. If anything, they were going unfailingly right. Pulling into his driveway, he parked and carried the groceries into the house.

“I’m home!”

Ethan sat on the couch with the blanket wrapped around him so he looked like a marshmallow. “Ethan?” Carter hesitated because he couldn’t see his face. What if he hadn’t been able to handle being alone? “I’m sorry if I took too long. There was a guy causing trouble at the store and then my dad called….”

Ethan turned around. From the blanket cocoon, his gaze swept across Carter and over the bags in his arms. “Bananas?”

Carter glanced down to see them poking out of the top of one of the bags. “Yeah. I got a bunch of fruit.”

“And Cheetos?”

“Yes. But if you get any cheese dust on the comforter, I won’t be happy.”

Flinging the blanket off himself, Ethan stood up. “I’ll get bowls,” he said, and led the way into the kitchen. They sat at the table. Carter convinced him to eat a banana, and ate one himself, before Ethan started devouring the Cheetos.

“What did you do while I was out?”

“Tried to jerk off.” Ethan finished chewing before he answered. “Didn’t work.”

Carter offered an apple. “Maybe fruit will help.” He didn’t know if fruit would have any effect, but it had to be better than the crap Ethan had been eating.

“Maybe.” Ethan didn’t look convinced, but he grabbed the apple anyway. Biting into it, he studied Carter. “I’ll get better, right?”

Carter didn’t know what to say; he wasn’t a doctor, and Ethan’s troubles were beyond his capacity to help. He got up and hugged Ethan instead. “I’m here for you, no matter what.” It was the most honest response he could give. Ethan, still holding the apple, hugged him back.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m being stupid. But I can’t—I like it here with you. I feel safe here.”

Bending to kiss Ethan’s neck, and pulling away with the taste of dried sweat on his lips, Carter nuzzled Ethan’s hair. “You have to go outside someday. You’re too social not to.” He crouched down to look in Ethan’s downcast eyes. “I’m almost a hermit and I need people. I can’t imagine what it’s like for a butterfly like you.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched and he smiled. “What color butterfly am I?”

Kneeling on the floor, Carter slid into Ethan’s arms. “Every color. You’re every one.”

T
HERE
was no point in going outside. The clouds didn’t sing to him anymore. Ethan stood in the backdoor, considering stepping out. He closed his eyes and listened to the wind rustling the leaves of the tree that grew in the middle of Carter’s yard. Sadness sat in the pit of his stomach. He pressed on his belly, but he couldn’t massage it away.

“Ethan?” Carter squeezed in next to him and wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist. “Are you okay?”

“I wish I never knew what happened.”

Carter didn’t say anything. Ethan pulled away from him and went back into the house. Stopping to get the blanket off the couch, he went upstairs to get into bed. He moved into the bedroom in darkness. Through the window, he spotted the light on in his bedroom at his house. Ethan moved closer to look. Elliot sat at Ethan’s desk. It looked like he was doing his homework, but that didn’t make sense. Elliot always did it at the table downstairs. Ethan pressed his nose to the window. Elliot looked up. For a moment their eyes met. Then Elliot grabbed up his notebook and left the room, leaving Ethan to stare at the now-dark window.

“I brought you a snack,” Carter said. “S’mores. Sort of. I had to melt the marshmallows in the microwave.” Ethan turned to see him holding out a plate.

“Don’t feel like it.”

Carter’s mouth turned down, but he nodded. “Okay. Do you want me to rub your back?”

Instead of responding, Ethan got into bed and turned his back to Carter. He heard rustling as Carter took his pants off and then Carter got in bed. He kissed Ethan’s head above his ear. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” Ethan said. He snuggled down in his pillow and waited for Carter to start rubbing. He fell asleep to Carter’s steady strokes down his back and the jumble of clicks, coughs, and pops that spilled from his mouth.

E
THAN
’
S
nightmares, before he learned the truth, had been red and angry and without clear pictures. He couldn’t tell anything from them, except that they frightened him and made him feel bad. Now he dreamed about Mike and Douglas. They sat at their table in the coffee shop. Douglas had his hood up like always. Mike had no face. They sat, faceless, and drank their coffee.

“Why did you hurt me?” Ethan asked.

They didn’t answer.

He screamed at them to answer.

“Ethan.” Ethan batted away Carter’s nudge. “Your mom’s here. She needs to talk to you. Is that all right?” Carter nudged again.

“Don’t want to see her.”

“I think you’d better talk to her. It’s important today, all right?”

“Did something happen?” Ethan pried his eyes open to see that Carter was already dressed. He looked worried. Ethan sat up.

“Tell me I can let her come up. Please.”

“Okay.” Ethan pulled the comforter up to his chin as he waited. Carter had left the door open, so he heard Mom on the stairs. She knocked on the doorjamb before she stepped into the room.

“Thanks for letting me in, Pal.”

“Carter said it was important.” Mom hadn’t brushed her hair. It was pulled back into a ponytail, and frazzled short curls framed her face. She had on one of Dad’s T-shirts and a pair of khaki capris. No makeup.

Coming around to his side of the bed, she kissed him on his forehead. “I need to ask you to do something.”

He shuffled away. “What?”

“Elliot got into trouble. I want you to go to the police station with me to get him.”

“Do I have to?” Elliot didn’t want to see him. If he did, he would have stayed to wave at Ethan when Ethan saw him through the window.

“No, you don’t have to, but I’d like you to.” Mom sounded tired. Maybe she needed Ethan to go in case she fell asleep driving.

“Can I come back here after?”

“Yes.”

That relieved his one worry that she would try to stop him, even though he was an adult and could do what he wanted. “Okay. I guess I will then.”

Ethan waited until she’d gone downstairs before he sat up. Something about being covered made him want to uncover without anyone watching.

Carter hugged him when Ethan went downstairs. “I’m working while you’re out, so don’t be long.”

Ethan glanced at his mother. “We won’t,” she said.

“Okay,” Ethan said. He stepped outside and felt the sun warm him like an old friend. He raised his face toward it. Across the street, the Radlington kids ran around. Mrs. Radlington waved at him from her knees in the flower garden. Ethan got in the van.

“Ethan. Honey.” Mom didn’t talk until they were on the road. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“‘Fine’, everything’s good, or ‘fine’ so I’ll stop asking how you are?”

“The second one.” Ethan knew it was stupid to think anything would change in the world because he’d been angry and sad, but he was still disappointed. He wanted to roll down the window and yell at people that things had changed for him, so they should stop rollerblading and driving and buying donuts. They should stop until he was ready to start again.

“I’m glad you’re talking to me.”

Ethan rested his head on the window.

“Are you sleeping well?”

“Yeah. With Carter.”

“Are you having nightmares?”

“Sometimes.”

Mom glanced at him. “I’ve worried about you.”

“Yeah.”

“I saw Vera at Pepper’s. She wonders when you’re coming back to work.”

He rubbed his knee. “Never.”

“Sweetie, you love your job.”

“Not if Mike and Douglas are there.”

“Vera banned them. She told me. And I checked for myself. They weren’t there.”

He didn’t want to go back there anyway. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Dad and I thought it was the best thing to do. Elliot was so young and you didn’t remember. We wanted you to start fresh, to not have to think about bad things.”

“It’s why I had nightmares, isn’t it? I was thinking about bad things.” It was easier to say it to the window than her face.

“I can only say I’m sorry. If we could do it again….”

“You’d tell me?” He clung to the idea that his parents would be honest.

She squeezed his shoulder. “One day you might have kids of your own, and then you’ll learn that there’s a difference between honesty and protection.”

It wasn’t the answer he wanted. He shifted away from her hand. It wasn’t fair that she wanted him to talk about what had happened, but without giving him any details. “How do you feel?” but not “Let me tell you what happened and how we lied to you.” He didn’t want to talk about how he felt. It was easier to hide.

T
HE
wooden bench made Ethan’s bottom hurt, but Mom had told him to wait on it, so he squirmed a little and stayed put.

“Are you all right, honey? Need another soda?” the police officer spoke from behind her desk.

Ethan held up the one he already had, which he had only opened and not drunk. “No thank you.” Next to him, a six-year-old boy sat with a dripping ice cream cone and on the other end of the bench, a man with unwashed hair was handcuffed to the bench’s arm. The boy sniffled. He’d been picked up wandering around a playground and was waiting for his mother to come get him.

Through the window in a door that led to a room with desks and more police, Ethan watched Mom talking to Officer Johnson. Elliot sat beside Johnson’s desk staring at his feet. Ethan couldn’t hear them, but those were Mom’s shouting movements. A few minutes later, she emerged with Elliot. They stopped at the desk to sign a paper, and then Mom grabbed Ethan’s hand and hustled him outside.