Flowering - Part Twenty
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
“Jamie, what are you doing?”
I sit back on my ankles and look over my shoulder at Aiden, nervously tapping my gloved fingers on my knees.
“Just working on the garden.” I set aside my secateurs, drag the back of my wrist over my forehead. “Taking out the stuff that’s invasive. The stuff that’s only hurting the rest.”
“Okay,” Aiden says slowly, reaching down to gently trail his fingers through my hair. “Is that - like - the top concern, right now?”
It most definitely is not. It’s what I’ve been trying to use to distract me from the real top concern, and it actually kind of worked.
I look up at the sky, startled to see it so dark. I came out here at sunset, but I’ve been absorbed in my work and my thoughts. I lost track of time. The sky has gradually turned a deep blue, now verging on black. Moonlight is kissing the tops of the trees, falling softly onto the petals of the low-growing flowers.
I turned on my phone flashlight without even thinking about it, so I could see what I’m doing. I’ve been working hard.
Placed throughout our garden are a few stone benches, so heavily draped in moss and worn by time that they look like they grew right up out of the earth. Aiden and I haven’t really sat on them too much. The soft blanket of moss feels nice, but the benches are difficult to get to. The way is blocked by the thick, tangled overgrowth of the wild garden.
I got to work without a plan in mind, but sitting back now, it dawns on me that what I’ve been doing is carefully clearing a path to one of the benches. The one by the weeping willow.
The graceful, grey-green, ground-sweeping branches of the willow ripple in the rainy breeze, whispering against the stone bench. The fluttering leaves have picked up a silver tinge in the moonlight.
I get to my feet, touch my fingers to the rough bark of the weeping willow, and take a deep breath before I turn to face Aiden.
“I’m just - very stressed out,” I admit, twisting the ring around my finger. “Aren’t you?”
Aiden’s eyes tell me the answer right away. He’s seriously on edge, which doesn’t surprise me. I’m so worked up about this, myself, and while I care deeply about how it goes, it means much more to Aiden. These were his brothers, once.
And in his heart, they both still are.
I see in Aiden’s expression all the same things I’m feeling, but heaps more. Extreme anxiety, nervous anticipation, preemptive stress.
Hope.
I’m twice as antsy as I was before, because now this is happening at our house. I feel like I’ve spent my entire day anxiously waiting for Ralph and Noah to get here, even when I went into the shop for my shift this morning.
I do get why Noah wanted to do this here. He doesn’t want Raj and Mel involved, not at all. He also doesn’t want Ralph in his safe place, the home he shares with his fiancés and his baby. Nor did he want to go to Ralph’s house, which is the opposite of a safe place for him. And doing this in public sounds like a potential disaster. There’s already plenty enough disaster potential in the mix.
Here it’ll have to be, and I’m actually glad about that. I want us close by, so we can be there for Noah if this goes wrong.
I really don’t think that Ralph is playing games or lying about his intentions. Not anymore. I believe with all my heart that he desperately wants to make things right with Noah. But from what Aiden’s told me, Ralph’s sudden bursts of cruelty and meanness are kind of, like - a panic response.
I don’t think that Ralph is coming here intending to be mean to Noah. But I do think there’s a chance he might panic.
Either of them might, honestly.
Ralph, because tonight he has to look into the eyes of the person he’s hurt the most. He has to be his real, vulnerable self. He has to be deeply honest. Honest in a way that’s seriously difficult, even for people who don’t lie at all. For Ralph… this is probably going to be one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. And if it doesn’t go right, he and Noah permanently go their separate ways.
Ralph must be terrified.
Noah must be, too. He must have some tiny amount of hope that this will go well - he wouldn’t have agreed to it, otherwise - but he’s definitely expecting the worst. Bracing himself for it.
Not to mention he’s scared of Ralph, which I don’t blame him for. There are a number of good reasons for that. I remember how Noah looked with one grey eye blacked out, the other brimming with tears. His thumb at that terrible angle, knuckles bleeding from swinging back.
Oh, god. Ralph has so much to try and undo.
Knowing all this is only stressing me out more. It’s put an extreme fear in my heart that Ralph and Noah won’t show up.
Or, the even worse option. That one of them might show up, but not the other.
Aiden is clearly battling his way through the same fears. His jaw is tensed, his hair messy beneath his snapback, like he was messing with it. He keeps flexing and unflexing his muscled shoulders with each deep breath he takes, a nervous tic of his that I’m a big fan of. I can see the movement even through his soft, loose-fitting shirt.
His blue eyes are filled up with anxiety.
“It’s almost time,” he says quietly, nodding up at the sky.
Even at a moment like this, I can’t help but smile affectionately at the way he doesn’t need to check his watch to know. The position of the crescent moon in the sky is enough.
I lean up to kiss him, then gather my gardening tools up and set them beneath one of the trees, out of the light, sprinkling rain. Aiden helps me get all of the clippings into a bag, and we head back for the house together.
It’s a cool, breezy night, but our house is warm and cozy. The fire is lit in the coffee room. Luna is luxuriously stretched out on the rug in front of it, toasting her grey fur. Aiden had a cup of tea waiting for me on the kitchen counter, so I stuff my gardening gloves in my back pocket and take a steadying sip. He flashes me a little smile, thumbs some topsoil off of my cheek.
I look around at the kitchen. The rose-colored walls, the warm light, the curved ceiling. The vivid green garden beyond the kitchen door lets out a soft, secretive whisper as the breeze rolls through.
I always feel so safely tucked away, watching the garden at night from here.
I suddenly wonder if there was another reason why Noah wanted to do this at our house, and why Ralph agreed right away. I smile to myself, warmed by the possibility. I always wanted the home I shared with Aiden to feel like safe soil for everyone we bring inside.
But my smile quickly falls away, overtaken by the nerves again.
“Goddamnit,” Aiden growls suddenly, lifting his snapback to push a hand through his hair. “This is not a good moment to be sober.”
“Honestly,” I groan, shifting my mug into one hand so I can rub my eyes. “Can they just get here, already? Where are they?”
“They’re still not even supposed to be here for ten more minutes.”
“Ugh!” I set down my mug and cross the kitchen, striding swiftly for the living room. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there to wait.”
Aiden is right behind me, so quickly that I feel like he was already thinking about doing the same thing. We step together back out into the coolness of the night, making for the green tunnel.
It’s lit softly from below with the freestanding lights that Noah gave us for our housewarming present. My heart twists nervously again.
“Come on,” I whisper, beneath my breath. “Show up, you two, don’t you fucking bail… show up, show-”
I break off as I step out of the green passageway. Aiden stops beside me, then lets out a heavy, relieved breath.
Ralph is parked a bit down the street. He’s standing beside his car, facing away from us. He doesn’t seem to notice our rushed arrival at all. All of his focus is already taken up.
Calla is holding him by his threadbare shirt, gazing up into his face, speaking quietly and earnestly. He’s looking down at her, listening, taking deep breaths.
She asks him something, and he seems to think about it. Calla waits in silence for an answer.
Ralph nods slowly, then drops his head, presses his forehead against Calla’s.
She takes his face into her hands, brushes a kiss onto his mouth. Holds him close for a long moment before she draws back. She taps Ralph’s nose in an encouraging kind of way, and he gives her a tiny smile.
Calla smiles, too, then gently lets him go.
Ralph watches in silence as she slips back into the car, pulls away, and leaves him with us. Then he takes a another deep breath, and turns around.
He stops for a second when he sees us waiting for him. Swallows hard before he falls into movement again. His fingers fidget nervously with his leather wristbands as he comes over to the pathway entrance.
I can sense the electric storm of anxious emotion going on in him. It fills the air around him, reflects in his eyes, in his restless movements.
Ralph is normally unwaveringly calm, at least on the surface. I can only imagine what’s going on within him right now, for him to look like this.
He doesn’t say anything. Just comes to a stop before us and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
Aiden and I both let out another relieved breath. I close my eyes for a second, and Aiden gives Ralph a slap on the back.
The three of us set off for the house together, treading over the rain-wet earth.
Ralph doesn’t say anything until we get to the kitchen. His voice comes out almost startlingly quiet.
“Is - is he here?”
Aiden and I both stop, exchanging a glance.
“No, not yet,” Aiden rumbles, and then, very firmly - “He’ll be here, though.”
“You’re a little early, that’s all,” I add, in what I hope is a reassuring voice.
Ralph nods slowly, not looking at either of us. His fingers are wrapped tightly around his wristbands. He takes a shaky breath, then nods at the open back door.
“Think I’m gonna get some air,” he says roughly, and slips outside before Aiden or I can catch a glimpse of his expression.
He goes all the way out to the far end of the garden, keeping his back to us. He stops there, taking deep breaths and kneading his palm, the wind ruffling through his blonde hair.
Aiden and I turn to each other. I pick up my mug and tap my fingertips against it, and Aiden chews his lip, lost in silent thought.
A few minutes slip by before I can’t hold still or keep quiet anymore.
“Is this about to go terribly?” I whisper, wincing at Aiden. “I’ve never seen Ralph this close to panicking, and we did a heist with him.”
Aiden folds his arms over his chest, leans his shoulder against the wall.
“I don’t know how it’ll go, but…” He nods his head in the direction of the garden. “I’m telling you, what you’re seeing is finally the real Ralph. That’s the person who was my brother, and Noah’s brother, too. I recognize him, and I really think that Noah will see exactly what I-”
“Aiden,” I cut in, pressing my fingers to my mouth. “Ralph is freaking out.”
Aiden stops, alarmed, and straightens up from the wall to look out through the kitchen doorway.
Ralph is still turned away from us. He’s got his hands pressed over his face, and he’s breathing hard and fast. He pushes a trembling hand through his blonde hair, then suddenly turns on his heel and starts striding back towards the house, keeping his head down.
Aiden instantly moves into action. He strides out to meet Ralph, getting there before Ralph can make it even halfway across the garden. Aiden catches Ralph by his jacket and gives it a sharp tug, pulling him right back to where he was standing before.
Ralph looks up at him sharply, startled, his eyes wide. Aiden uses his handful of Ralph’s jacket to steady him out, then to hold Ralph in place as he begins speaking fiercely and heatedly, staring right down into his sage-green eyes.
I can’t hear Aiden - he and Ralph are standing too far away, and the breeze has the plants in the garden singing - but Ralph listens, motionless, staring up at him. Aiden points at Ralph’s chest as he talks, then at the house, then at Ralph again.
He finishes whatever he was saying and waits, looking down at Ralph. Ralph breaks his gaze away, takes a few breaths, and nods. Aiden nods, too, then rolls his eyes in an exasperated kind of way. Ralph gives him a sheepish look, and Aiden gives Ralph’s hair an affectionate ruffle, slaps his shoulder.
Aiden comes back to the house, but Ralph stays right where he is, breathing evenly again. Aiden closes the door, giving him a moment alone.
“What?” Aiden rumbles, catching me smiling up at him.
I was thinking to myself that he and Ralph really do seem like brothers, to me. And Aiden, even after everything, is being a good brother to Ralph.
“Nothing.” I flap a hand at Aiden. “Just - glad that you’re here for both of them, for this.”
Aiden opens his mouth to answer, then stops as a sudden movement draws his attention to the other kitchen doorway, the one that leads to the living room.
I could melt to the floor in relief as Noah quietly steps into the kitchen.
He’s very pale, the ink-black lines of every tattoo sharpened up by the contrast. His lips are darker than normal, like he’s been nervously biting them. His black hair is up in a bun, swept back out of his face, except for one long strand that the rain and breeze must have pulled free.
His grey eyes are fraught with nerves, but he’s standing very still. His hands are deep in the pockets of his bomber jacket, his jaw set.
I rarely see Noah so serious, so silent. I rarely see this type of gravity in his grey eyes, which are the color of steel, closed-off and defensive.
He looks at me and Aiden, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek.
Aiden and I froze when he came in, but now we both turn to face him.
“Hey, man,” I say tentatively, setting my mug down again.
Noah gives me the barest nod of his head, but doesn’t say anything. I have a feeling he’s sinking all of his effort into keeping himself from turning around and leaving.
Aiden catches Noah’s eyes, meaningfully glances at the garden door. Noah’s eyes go straight to it, and stop there.
It’s closed, but he knows what’s waiting just beyond it.
“We’ll be right here if you need us,” I remind him, anxiously twisting the ring around my finger.
Noah glances at me, then comes slowly into the kitchen. He walks silently to the door, stops a few feet away from it.
He stares at it, his jaw tensed up, his hands fisted tightly in his pockets.
I get the sense that he’s trying to make himself take another step forward, but he can’t do it.
Aiden is standing at Noah’s back, just behind his right shoulder. He looks down at Noah, biting his lip.
“Noosh,” he says suddenly. “Would it help to get a warm-up apology? Because I owe you one, anyways.”
Noah doesn’t turn to look at Aiden, doesn’t break his gaze away from the door, but I see his dark eyebrows furrow.
“I should have done more,” Aiden says quietly, his voice a little rough. “When I was here, and Ralph was treating you wrong, I should have done more. I should’ve been there for you. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t. But I’m here, now. Even though I really, really think you won’t need me.”
Noah doesn’t answer. He stares silently at the door, blinking hard, something complicated happening in his grey eyes.
Aiden hesitates, then reaches around Noah and wraps an arm around his shoulders. Gently pulls him a step back, into a hug. Noah doesn’t normally go in for those, but he holds still, doesn’t pull away.
Aiden lets Noah go, affectionately tousles his hair, and gives him a gentle push forward.
“You’ve got this, Noosh.”
Noah closes his eyes for a second, takes a deep breath, and pulls open the door.
Ralph has wandered up the path that I cut out from the tangled, overgrown garden. He’s near the bench by the weeping willow, pacing back and forth, nervously running a hand over the back of his neck. He stops sharply when he hears the door open, lifts his head.
He freezes, staring at Noah. His sage green eyes are wide and unblinking. Swimming with anxiety, open and vulnerable.
Noah stares back at Ralph. His pierced eyebrows slowly furrow again, and his eyes narrow, perplexed. He looks searchingly at Ralph, like he’s trying to solve a complicated problem.
Then he draws his head back sharply, blinking hard, something moving through his grey eyes.
Aiden nudges Noah’s shoulder. “You recognize him, too, don’t you? Even faster than I did.”
Noah looks up at Aiden, then back at Ralph. He doesn’t answer, but I think Aiden is right. Noah is clearly seeing and recognizing the person he used to think of as a brother.
I can tell, because without another word, Noah steps out into the garden. The moonlight spills across his shoulders and glimmers on his inky hair as he silently crosses towards the weeping willow.
Aiden and I both let out a breath. His fingers find their way into mine, and I hold them tightly.
He closes the door, leaving Noah in the garden with Ralph.
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