CHAPTER 3 - THE CALLER THAT STARTED IT ALL

BRIAN

“First, how did you hit him with your car!” Uncle Vic demands of my assailant.

“He ran across my path, I wasn’t going too fast though. He’s going to have severe bruising. Why are you here?” 

“What’s your name, for the insurance?” I demand, my ribs are making it hard to breathe.

“Oh, George. George Schickel. You two seem to know each other.” 

I look at my watch then the door. “Are we expecting anyone else?” I growl.

“This is Brian, and no, why would we be?” Uncle Vic is shaking. “Can I have a large vodka, George?”

“Just seems a little coincidental that I get a call, you aren’t dead but with him, and someone you know tries to kill me.”

“Kill is a little strong! If you hadn’t been so distraught, then perhaps you would’ve seen where you were going. Now what had you so upset? Excuse me, dead? Why would Vic be dead? No! You’re not that Brian, are you?!” He knocks back the drink he prepared for him, who pours his own and gives it to me. “I can’t believe it! Who the hell called him?!” 

“Uncle Vic, sit down.” I order trying to get up, but my ribs won’t let me. “Fuck!”

“Vic, sit, Brian, stay.” George orders. “Did you call the hospital?”

“Yes, spoke to Lisa, it wasn't them. They know not to make a mistake like that.” He scrubs his face looking tearful. “And the only other person couldn’t. I promise you, I didn’t set this up.” 

“You promise, on the soul of Rodney you didn’t?” I ask quietly. They both gasp. “On his soul?”

“Yes. I promise on his soul, how did you know about Rodney?” He sniffs.

“Same way I knew to come back the first time.” I see my phone flash, but can’t move. “A little help.” George leaps to my side. “Who is it?”

“Ben.” He hands it to me. “Unlock it, I’ll dial and hold it so you can speak to him.” 

“Thanks, face recognition.” He holds it up, then puts him on speaker,

“Brian? Please be Brian!” He bellows.

“It’s me.” My eyes prickle at his tearful voice. 

“He’s coming, you know what he's like when he’s worrying about you!” 

“How many times?” I smile.

“Twenty seven. Please, just say hi.”

“Hey, buddy, am okay, be back soon. Ben, can you send Blake to, um, where are we?”

“No, I’m coming, give me the address.” 

“George?” I prompt.

“Bucklesbury Manor, Autumn Lane Path, PA, 44838. Will you be long?” He looks concerned at me. “And can you bring any medication he normally takes, extra strong?”

“Yeah, hang on.” He mutters to someone. Judging by the swears, that's Jen. “Will be right there.”

“Thanks. See you soon.” I sink back against the seat: we watch each other quietly. “So who else has the number?”

“Nobody. I swear nobody else has it.” Vic explains, lip wobbling. “Please believe me.”

“I do. Not too hard, okay?” He flies to my side and I sob into his shoulder. 

“I’ll go wait for Ben.” George gently closes the door behind him.

VIC

“So what were you doing at this end of town?” I haul a chair closer and hold his glass up. 

“Rented a house, up the way.” He sighs and winces. “We’ll be going back in a week. Must cancel the wreath.” 

“Please do.” I chuckle, then grimace as Michael calls again. I’m about to send it to voicemail when he shakes his head. “Michael, what is it?!” I demand, putting the phone between us.

“Finafuckingly! Where the buggering hell have you been, you dick?!” Debs surly slurring voice makes us scowl. “You’ll be schoming to the, no, we're coming to you and you're splaining to us!” Michael is yelling in the background. “Shush, Baby, Ma’s got this! Ma’s gonna sort it for us! And you needs David speak, tell, tell him about car, too old for this shit!” 

We wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t.

“Uncle Prick!” Michael sneers, then starts sniffing. “He looked so good, so hot and so good. Want him, want him so bad. Glad him back, you’ll help, won’t you? Please me, me to help make Brian see.” He sighs heavily. “We’re going to bed now, come on, Ma, let’s go, it’s snuggle time.” Debs mutters something before he cuts us off.

“Snuggle time.” He looks queasy. “They don’t, do they?”

“A lot has changed in their relationship since you’ve been gone.” I finish my drink. “And everyone else’s. Another?”

“Hmm.” He does his thousand yard stare, which means a big question is coming. “Did it take?”

“Yes. He’s called Gus.” He looks relieved. “The flowers! That was you?!” He nods. “I was wracking my brains trying to think when I changed the order to those!” 

“Only the best for your best friend.” He clinks my glass. “Is that why she didn’t go, because he replaced her in your attention?” I grip the glass. “She was always jealous where you were concerned. Christ, she hated it when I spent time with you.” 

“Yeah, just wanted it to be the three of us. I had no desire to become the third wheel in their tricycle!” I snipe, he giggle-snorts. “It got worse after you left, she clung tighter to him. Of course, being the mewling moron he is, he loved it. All the attention on him. But what really began the rot was when I refused to help buy his store. That’s why she hated Rodney so much. I talked to him about it. Oh she was so furious that I was talking family stuff with a stranger.” 

“You’d known him since your senior year!” He seethes, no doubt remembering the jags of her jealousy whenever Joan would be sober enough to be a loving Mother and dote on him. “He talked you out of it?”

“Nope, I simply said no.”

“Because? I mean, apart from it being a stupid idea!”

“Didn’t give her one, just said my money, my house, saying no. She remortgaged hers: so now it's theirs and thriving!”  

“They’re in business together?! That’s insane! Ow-fuck-ow!” 

“That's more than ribs!” I declare. “Let me get George, why did he send the ambulance away?”

“Cos I told him to.” He slowly leans forward. “Cushion, cushion might help.” 

“Why? Oh, I see, it would be Alleghany and Debs still having some clout.”

“Me incapacited. Not enough drugs in the world, and having heard that I’d be too afraid to sleep!”

“Brian!” The door bursts open and a hulk of a man strides towards us. George is drooling behind him, which I'm not fine with, but first things first! “You muppet, why didn’t you take a cab or call Kip?”

“I did, but he started to say how familiar I looked, so I got out.” 

“Ah, I see.” He nods before turning to me. “Looking pretty fly for a corpse. I'm Ben, he’s told me so much.” He pulls out his phone, handing it to me. “Can you take it, please? Just me and him. Then I can send it before he goes to sleep.” I do so, we wait for a few seconds before he chuckles. “Think we can allow him that one, eh?” He turns his screen, and although I can't see who it’s from, I can see the words wanging wanker and splutter. “Yeah, he picked that one up far too early!”

“Have you got his pills?” George simpers. I arch a brow, he tucks a non-existent tendril behind his ear when Ben nods. “I’ll just get some water then.” 

We watch him leave. “Cute, but way too old for me.” Ben declares loud enough for him to stop swishing and walk normally. “Reckon you’ve done your back too?” He grabs another cushion. “Brian, shuffle forward a little, not lean, shuffle.” Slowly he moves. “Get that down on his lower back, some support for a bit.” When it’s in position, Brian looks much happier. “Thanks, George.” He smiles as he takes the water and hands me a bottle. “Tramadol.” I whistle, this is serious stuff. “Needs two.”

“One. Had vodka.” Brian states. He chuffs a laugh at my pause. “Yeah, me being sensible with booze and drugs. There’s a reason. Maybe you'll see before we leave.”

“I would like that.” I snicker as we both watch him take the pill. “What did you do to your back that these are needed?”

“Snowboarding.” Ben laughs, Brian glowers. “Like he said, you may meet the reason.” He looks at his watch. “About ten minutes and you’ll be able to move a bit better. I can call Phil, but it might be a while before he gets here.”

“Once I'm flat, will be fine.” He sighs, and we lapse into silence, each trying not to hawkeye him. 

“What about David, maybe he can help?”

“David? As is Michael’s David?” I exclaim, but then think logically. He's the best in the Burgh.

“I don't want Michael's David’s hands on me! This implies that he’s touched him in a way that gives me nightmares!”

“Poor bloke, but she’s beginning to get to him now.” George titters.

“He sounds like he gets to most people!” Ben bitches. 

“No, David is being got at by Daphne, his daughter. Disliked onsight, both of them.”

“We must take her to dinner!” Ben quips, before starting to relax a bit. “Kicking in?” He mops Brian’s brow, who smiles and nods. “Good, another five and you should be able to stand.”

“But seriously, he’s the best chiropractor.” I cajole whilst George claps Ben on the back. “Listen, he won’t say anything to Michael or Debs. Client confidentiality primarily, but mostly they're not remotely interested in what he does, just what he can provide!” I fume at their continued leeching of a decent man. 

George clears his throat. “If he sees you at the hospice, then that’s even better.”

“Let me guess: For all their extolling of being oh so pro, all gas and air?!” Brian sneers before inhaling sharply. “Okay, let’s do this! I can’t do another fucking day of this!”

“Thank you, let me give you his number.” 

“Speaking of numbers.” George ponders. “Maybe you’d recognise it, Vic?”

“Good idea.” Brian hands it to me, and for a few seconds, I stare, then start to sob. “Help me get there!” He orders. Between the two of them, they get him wrapped around me: like him earlier, he rocks me as I weep. “She with you?” 

“Yeah, two minutes.” 

JENNIFER

“What the fuck is going on?!” I demand as Ben opens the door. “Stand him down!” I fume that he brought him with us. “I would’ve been calmness personified, he was entirely unnecessary!”

“Pharaoh, relax.” He orders. He obeys, and turns into the bundle of mush I know and love. “Now wait, we’ll be back.” He helps me out. “We need a Mom’s touch.” He grabs a couple of hankies: I inhale sharply. “Not for him! His friend, we showed him the number and he’s broken down.” 

I nod. Once I’m introduced to George, I send him to make some coffee, with honey, chocolate saying I’d do the whiskey. Vic is calmer but still somewhat mute.

“I need you to say when, okay, Vic?” He doesn't react, so I squeeze his hand: still nothing,

“Give it to me.” Brian orders. I hand him the bottle: he holds it over the mug. As it starts to get to the brim, I begin to panic. 

“When, when.” Vic declares, giving Brian a slightly baleful glance. “How the hell am I supposed to drink that?”

“Straw?” He suggests. “Ow!” He yelps at the quick flick to his ear. Ben and I chuckle. “I was being serious, there’s straws over there!”

“I’ll get them.” George divvies up the coffee between the pair of them. “You’re officially staying, Vic.” Vic nods then sips before tearing up again, I give him a few seconds. “Whose number is it?” 

“Rodney’s.” He shudders a breath. “I was so convinced that I would predecease him that I gave him your number. After he died: it’s been years, I just, I just didn’t remember. Sorry, Brian.”

“That explains the who, but not the why.” I point out. “Let me call it and see who it is, maybe his estate sold it.”

“Maybe.” He whispers, sipping some more.

“Right, I’m going to put this on speaker. If it isn’t picked up, prepare yourself as it might go to voicemail. This may be a scammer, if it is they’d have left it. You know, the human touch?” I check the number and start to tap it out, frowning as I do so. 

“Jen, you okay?” Ben asks. I nod, but something feels familiar: as it rings and rings, the feeling gets stronger. “Jen, what is it?” He demands as I groan and pray.

“Pick up, pick it up!” 

“Hey. Hey, Mom, one sec!” The music and water are turned. “Just the person I wanted to talk to. The hardest part of this job is when you lose them. Grammy Binks passed away, just got back. It was a nice send off. I got so much food! You know me, Iove to eat away my sorrow.”

“Yes, yes,  I know. I need you to answer a question: why did you call the number I’m about to give you?” 

“You called me.” He laughs. “Hang on, just adjusting position.” I scowl at the rustling and Brian’s about to explode. I grip my glass at the sound of wine being opened and poured. “Ah, that’s more like it.”

“Why did you call the number?!” I growl.

“Again, you called me.” He retorts.

“For crying out loud, Justin! Focus!” I snap, holding my hand to stall any questions. “Why did you call 209 669 8080.”

“Oh, got it, say again.” I repeat through gritted teeth, the seconds stretch on. Just as my patience is about to snap: I hear that oh so familiar, but not oft heard, oh shitcrap gasp of his. “Ah, that one, called it a few days back. Super early. Very drunk. How’d they find you?” The toilet seat bangs down. “Seriously, who tattles about this? I never even left a message!”

“Well if you had, it would’ve saved a lot of grief!” I snarl. “It’s Brian’s number!”

“Brian? Who the - Brian as in your Brian, the one you told me about with the shitty friends and family?” 

“Yes.” I soften my tone. “How did you get it?”

“It was on the phone. I forgot all about it. Oh, Mom, can I speak to him to explain? Dear God, he must feel terrible! Wait. Where are you?”

“Pittsburgh, and yeah I feel terrible!” Brian snaps. “You should've called back! I got into an accident because of you!”

“An accident? Oh shit! I’m so sorry, sorry just sorry.” His voice catches. “Look, Mom, let me call back. Just give me a few, okay?”

“You’ve got five minutes!” Brian retorts, and I hang up. Nobody says a word. 

“Okay, Vic, I think I  know how this happened.” Now it’s my turn to be tearful. “Was he Rodney Rodders Clements? Paralysed from the chest down, used to be a marine?” I close my eyes when Vic nods. “He was his first, Justin’s I mean, straight out of nursing school, looked after him for eight years. He was devastated when he died, even more so when he missed the funeral. He was sick himself. The phone arrived a month later, he left it to him, as he had liked it so much.” 

Ben gives me a hug and we sit in silence waiting for the call. “I want  to say sorry for shouting at him, it was just an unfortunate coincidence.” 

“Thanks, Brian. Prompt as usual.” I smile as it rings, however, instead of a contrite son, there’s a spirited debate happening between him and someone else.

“Sunshine! You’re not taking the blame! It was me who dialled, and therefore me who should apologise, now give it! Seriously, will knock that bubble butt into a cocked hat!”

“You’d better listen, he's more than capable!” A nervy looking Brian shouts and Vic’s incredulous. This I don’t understand. “Give him the phone, I want to thank him anyway!” Vic frowns, we wait for it to be handed over. 

“Thank you! So to whom am I speaking?”

“Brian.” There’s a gasp followed by silence. “You gonna talk to me?”

The someone breathes deep. “Where’d you end up?”

“New York, now in Cali.” 

“You happy?”

“Very.” 

VIC

“Emmett, what is he thanking you for?” I demand.

“Vic? What are you doing with Brian?” He gasps. “How long has this been going on? Oh God, does he know? Is that why he’s back?”

“No, he doesn't know! I’ve not gotten round to that yet. Tell me why is he thanking you?”

“What don’t I know? As for why, I was on the roof when you guys came around. I heard Ted and wanted a short knuckledusting chat!” 

“And I told him to leave, as he was not worth the shitty splat he would make! Oh I get it now. No! I won’t let you do this! Brian, you can’t take Gus away from us, we adore him! He’s our life for land sakes! I beg you don’t do this!!”

“WHAT ARE YOU HANDNAGGING ABOUT HONEYCUTT?”

“Handnag - fuck me it’s been a lifetime since, no matter, back on topic, I’m helping with Gus.”

“Are you screwing with me? No, I must have misheard, you are helping Melanie Marcus with her and Lindsay’s child? Why?”

“Let me explain, Ems.” I sigh and pour more coffee into his mug. “Lindsay left after two years. Took the insisted on policy, cashed it, and was gone: now lives in Texas as part of a power dyke couple. She wants nothing to do with either of them.” 

“What’s wrong with him?” Brian demands. “Must be something bad for her to leave?”

BRIAN

“He’s perfect! The image of you and that’s the problem.” Uncle Vic starts to pace. I can hear Honeycutt sniffing. “The day you left, Lindsay had taken a test and thought she was pregnant, but she wasn’t.” I grab Ben’s arm, hissing he prises me off. “A few months of badgering later, she wore her down and Mel carried Gus.”

“I thought she couldn’t though, she had endometriosis.” I whisper. 

“You knew about that?” Uncle Vic sounds surprised.

“Yeah, so, so why did she leave and Mel carry?” I stammer, trying to fathom why she would’ve done this.

“Mel didn't think she would get pregnant, so figured that saying yes, trying and failing would get Lindsay to shut up.” Emmett declares. “But she did. Once we’d all gotten over the shock, they were happy, all was good. Especially as, in Mel’s then eyes, you were out of the picture.  For a couple of years it continued to be wonderful until they wanted another baby. Lindsay was going to carry, she’d been on maternity leave to bring up Gus whilst Mel built up her practice, well that’s what she said she was doing. Bonding, she said, hah, if that’s what that’s called these days!”

“Ems.” Uncle Vic chides. “Stay on the topic, stop getting how you get over this.” 

“Fine, I will not fetch for a minute or two!” He clears his throat, there’s rustling and patting, I can't help the snigger. “What so damn funny?”

“You’ve sat down, with a cushion in your lap, legs tucked under, using the cushion as a stress ball.” 

“Anyway!” He huffs. “Lindsay discovers that she can’t have children.”

“And expected Mel to carry again and she said no?” Jen asks.

“Not quite. Her pregnancy was rough, she was on bed rest for the last three months. You can imagine how well that went down!” George explains, much to my surprise. “I’ve known Vic for over eight years, he’s filled me in on the family dynamic. So she had a hysterectomy soon after, which couldn’t be reversed.”

“For about a year, she seemed to accept it, but in reality, she was so jealous since he loves her more. He’s so like his Daddy.” Ems chuckles. “Which means showing his feelings, pure Kinney.” I try to ignore the prompting looks Jen and Ben are giving me, but Vic doesn’t. Of course Honeycutt being Honeycutt can pick up an uncomfortable or knowing silence in seconds. “Brian, would, would you like to see him?”

“She’d never let me, so why set myself up for that?”

“She talks about you to him all the time.” Emmett has a smile in his voice. Both George and Uncle Vic are nodding.

“Why?” I refuse to have hope, there’s gotta be a sucker punch coming. This is Melanie Marcus, who hates me more than life itself!

“Because he asked and she promised never to lie about you.” Emmett replies.

“So he’s expecting to meet an unmitigated selfish, asshole of a drug addled slut who will be lucky to reach forty?” 

“Who cleaned up his act and became that man I knew you would. So what time do you want to meet your son?” 

“Mel!” I exclaim. “This is too much of a fucking coincidence, get me out of here!” I haul myself up, but crumple to the ground screaming in pain. I take a few breaths to calm down, but can’t. “Ben! Ben!” I start to feel sick. “I can’t feel my legs!”