Part 12 (1/2)
”You see, when the dance begins and the couples face off, the scene for romance is set.” She swept her arm across the barn. ”Men on one side, women on the other. It's like waving a red flag at a bull. Excitement, antic.i.p.ation, danger!”
Danger of having one's toes smashed, maybe. Brooks squinted, trying to envision the scene.
”The music leads and the bodies follow. You're giving up control, meeting your partner again and again, weaving through the obstacles just to find them. And at the end, the sweetest moment, the union of hearts.” She looked dreamily across the s.p.a.ce.
He coughed. ”Until you get partnered with Frenchy D'Auberg and he pinches your bottom. Not so romantic then.”
She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. ”For you or me? I wouldn't mind a little pinching. I'm a lonely old lady. When your grandfather was alive, we had such a thriving-”
”Oh, no.” Brooks pretended to plug his ears. ”Remember I'm one of those innocent young people.”
”Ha! I said young, not innocent.” She paused. ”How come you never bring anyone home to meet me?”
”Never found anybody I really liked, Grandma.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Truthfully, the girl he really liked already lived here, bringing her home wasn't an option.
”I just want you to know, that whatever kind of lifestyle you live, I'll still love you.”
He rolled his eyes. ”So, because I'm not living with a woman, I'm gay?”
”Well, there must be some reason. A handsome boy like you must have loads of girls chasing him.”
”Right. Loads.”
”What about that nice-”
”Before we go down the whole list of candidates, let me just say that being a nerdy professor and the heir to Badewood isn't as attractive as you think.”
”Why ever not?”
”It's hard to explain, but sometimes I think it would be better to be poor and homeless, Then I'd know if a woman loved me for who I am, and not for my house.”
She paused, as if choosing her words wisely. Her bright orange lipstick feathered into the wrinkles when she pursed her lips. ”If that's your fear, then you'd better choose someone who has a home as nice as ours.”
He laughed, a sharp sound that echoed in the enormous cavern of a barn. ”There's nothing like Badewood around here. The only people who aren't awed by the old place are the ones who've practically grown up in it with me, like-”
She waited for the rest of his sentence. ”Yes? Like?”
Like Caroline, obviously. Every thought led right back to her, every time, like some kind of cursed boomerang. ”Let's move on to some other topic. Finding Brooks a wife seems to be at the top of everyone's list lately. I'm almost glad we're having this crazy party. Maybe it will take some of the heat off me.”
”If you think G.o.d wants you to stay single, that's perfectly fine with me.”
Brooks sighed. ”There's a lot of talk about what G.o.d wants, isn't there? Always speculation, never facts.”
She stopped on her way across the stage. ”What does that mean? We're supposed to ferret out G.o.d's will for our lives.”
”Okay, true, but I also hear a lot of speculation on what G.o.d wants everyone else to do.”
”Is this a sensitive topic? You look ready to have a duck fit. ”
He shrugged. Kicking the toe of his old running shoes into the dust of the stage, he felt irritable, exhausted, twitchy.
”Your grandma has had quite a few more experiences than you have.” She smiled at him. ”Just letting you know that, in case you'd ever like to bounce anything off my many years of living.”
”There's nothing you can do about it.”
”Maybe. But sometimes it helps to share the burden.” She walked to him, her white hair frizzed around her head, eyes bright. She barely reached his chest but she never seemed small. Larger than life, louder than doubts.
He thought of Manning and Debbie Mae. They had suffered for a whole year without leaning on anyone else. But sharing his unrequited love wasn't something he was really aching to do.
A dove took flight from one of the rafters and they both turned to watch it circle the barn. It flew overhead and dropped its load with a splat, right on his shoulder. He grimaced.
”Now I'm afraid you're dyin' of a terrible disease. Bird p.o.o.p should register more emotion than that.” His grandma was searching through her small f.a.n.n.y pack for some tissues.
It should, but it didn't because it was just one more irritation in a week filled with irritations. He hated being at war with Caroline. Hated it more than anything he'd ever hated before. It was a dull ache that never lessened.
His grandma wiped off the mess as best she could, saying something about how a summer at home would make him happier. He wasn't really listening. He felt so tired, so weary of holding on with an iron grip to something he knew was slipping away.
”You can't make someone love you,” he said.
Her hand stilled for a moment, the dirty tissue between her fingers. ”True,” she agreed.
”Even if you love them so much you'd do anything, anything for them.” The truth of his words sunk in. Speaking about it wasn't helping. It felt worse, like probing an open wound.
”Even if,” she said, nodding.
”Sometimes they pick another person to love, when you've been right in front of them the whole time.”
”It does happen.” Her voice was soft.
”And then there's nothing left but to keep going as you were, pretending you never felt anything more than...”
”Friends.h.i.+p?” Her eyes met his and there was the faintest glimmer of tears.
”But I don't think I can have even that, anymore.” His throat constricted at the thought. They hadn't really spoken since the argument over Lexi's scholars.h.i.+p.
”Why not?”
”I wish I was a better man, but seeing her with someone else makes me crazy. Especially since the guy is a jerk.”
”Maybe it will run its course and you'll have your chance.”
He laughed, the bitterness in his voice loud to his own ears. ”Grandma, don't you see? If she didn't choose me the first time around, she won't choose me the second time.”
A sudden breeze blew open the barn door, gusting clouds of dust into the air. She patted his arm. ”Sometimes a girl's got to kiss a few frogs before she finds her prince.”