Three Little Birds

Exposure Pt. 2

He scoffed derisively but nodded, his eyes finally sliding open. His eyes were soft as they bore into mine, but within those honey-wheat eyes held more pain than I had seen in a long time. Fresh and refreshed, a memory and memories from years before, but felt as if it were all happening for the first time.

I linked our fingers together and gently pulled him up the stairs and into his room. 

"Come on." I helped him get undressed, directing him in his movements. Movements that were of second nature at this point.

I crawled beside him and saw thanks in his eyes that I wasn't going to leave him.

"It's my fault," he whispered. We had been lying quietly so long, I had thought he had fallen asleep. His arm was wrapped around my midsection, his hand closed into a fist against my side, enclosing a handful of material from my shirt.

Slowly I traced my fingertips along his arm, over the top of his hand, and back again. He had spoken so quietly I almost missed it. I looked to him then prepared to expostulate against his comment, but his breathing evened out and I could tell he was asleep.

The next several days passed in a blur. Mykel was busy getting his shop in the beginning stages of remodeling. Knocking down walls "here and there" as he put it. He kept the place a secret until it was how he wanted it. I was dying to see it, but he would just smile and say I would have to be patient. You'd think with as long as I sat curled in a closet I would have all the patience to a saint...this, however, is not the case. 

As the season got colder, the cafe grew more crowded as the vacationers of the ski resorts began to take advantage of the mountain. This meant I was helping Liz from morning to close with the other employees trickling in and out for their shifts as the day went on. The good thing about the skiing season is that these rich resortists tip well.

That Sunday as Liz and I closed shop as the last customers walked out the door, I stood beside her as she locked the door, hovering slightly in anxiety-ridden nervousness, staring at my shoes.

"Mattie, you okay, sweetie?" She tousled my hair slightly. Since I had stayed with her that first night the bond between us had deepened immensely. Since I broke down while telling her my deepest shame, she'd become even more protective, the bond between us, while still growing, solidified.

I nodded. "I was hoping maybe I can ask you a favor?"

I felt a soft finger under my chin lifting my head up. She had been trying, with little success at this point, to teach me to use eye contact. I felt my heart constrict at such a simple move. Such a motherly move that never once had I ever experienced as a child. 

I brought my eyes up to hers; she smiled. "You can ask me for anything, but you have to ask me, not your feet."

She spoke in the gentlest of ways, but I felt chastised nonetheless. I nodded again, swallowing. Instinct told me to look away, and I did, before gathering my courage and meeting her eyes again. She waited mollifyingly as I prepared to make my request.

"I was wondering if you could maybe, um, t-take me to the m-m-mall? I, uh, I want to get something for Mykel. I want to maybe cheer him up."

Through the whole stuttering mess of my supplication, I disconnected and reestablished eye contact several times. She said nothing about this. She told me it was progress. At the time she said this she pointed out that in the last few weeks I had made eye contact with her more times than in the three years she had known me.

I could not argue with this logic. Nor did I try to, as I saw the truth in this. 

Liz smiled, settling her palm smoothly against my face and kissed my forehead. "I wouldn't mind in the least, sweet cheeks. What did you have in mind?"

I stopped, a chair mid-way up to be placed on the table. I lowered my arms and shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I was hoping maybe you could help me think of something?"

She turned to me then, her arms crossing over her chest. Her assiduity of me made the anxiety I had been fighting due to the crowds in addition to my already normal anxiety, and the anxiety I felt for wanting to buy something for Mykel in the first place, mowed me down like a Mac truck.

I gripped the back of the chair, my eyes falling closed and my head drooping. I remember standing this way as a child, minus the chair or any protection, waiting for a fist or foot or inanimate objects to be hurled at my person.

The suffering solicitude I felt in that silence made my head scream as I felt her eyes boring into me.

"Mattie, let me ask you something." Her voice made me jump despite its docile tone. She paused as the chair clanged on the floor and frowned. 

When she approached, she did so slowly before removing the chair from my grasp and tranquilly set it down beside her.

Irrationally I felt n***d and unprotected, even as my logical side reminded me Liz is the farthest thing from a threat to me.

"Mattie." This time when I felt that soft finger at my chin I jumped, biting my lip before my eyes were dragged to hers.

"Breathe, Mattie. I won't hurt you, sweetness. Come on, sit down." She knelt down in front of me after maneuvering me into the chair I had previously been holding prisoner.

"I won't hurt you, Mattie." She had her hands on my knees, balancing herself while also grounding me. 

I nodded and took several deeps breaths. "What did, um, what did you wanna ask me?" I asked her after I had sufficiently settled down.

She frowned considering. Considering if whatever she wanted to ask wouldn't make me hyperventilate in a panic attack before she could get all the way through the question.

She began picking up the chairs and placing them seat down on the tabletops, their legs sticking straight up into the air.

Her silence as she considered her question did nothing to alleviate my hypertension.

Finally, she looked at me, her eyes questioning and guarded. "What's going on between you and my brother?"

I didn't understand the look in her eyes. I shrugged. "Wh-what do you m-m-mean?" 

In the private life of Mathew O'Neill the third, my childhood was spent with a terrible speech impediment. One that kept me mostly silent as my parents tormented me about it mercilessly. It wasn't until I ran away that I taught myself how to speak without stuttering.

Under high amounts of stress, however, it can not be helped. I felt like I was a little kid and I was in trouble again.

"N-n-n-noth-nothing. We-we-we've n-n-never done a-a-a-a-anything. N-not really."

"No, Mattie, honey, that isn't what I meant," she explained. "I mean...well, I mean, you wanna buy him something...the two of you have been pretty cuddly at home..."

I looked at her before looking away again. Suddenly I needed to move. Standing I put the chair atop the table and grabbed a rag to clean the counters.

"He's been really sad. I wanna make him not...sad..." I frowned at my superior articulation.

"Is that it?" she asked almost incredulous.

I shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say, Liz. Th-th-th-that I-I'm-I'm terrified...that I've never h-ha-ha-had anyone show the slightest interest in me where an exchange of money wasn't involved?" She flinched at those words, but said nothing. "I don't know what's going on, Liz. I'm trying not to put too much thought into it. I'm trying not to overwhelm myself with what if's about it. 

"I don't know how he feels about me." I added this last part on a rush of whispered air, my heartstrings pulling at the possible rejection in that doubt.

I don't know why the reason for my outburst. I thought it a fair question and one that I had asked myself on more than one occasion. 

The last part was spoken softly, lowly, and my gut constricted as I said it, the words tasting vile in my mouth.

"How do you feel?" She was standing next to me then, her hand resting along my shoulder. 

"I'm...terrified. Absolutely f*****g terrified, Liz."

"Of what?" she prodded, turning me to face her.

"I..." I looked away, completely unable to look her in the eyes as I said this next part.