WATCHING BRAD
Part L
I left the ring where it had fallen - on the floor.
I don't remember walking back to the bed. I don't remember sitting down or burying my face in my hands. I only remember crying and crying, and then crying some more. How could I possibly have been so wrong about this? I was so certain Brad loved me. He'd told me often enough. He'd shown me how much he loved me. I know I loved him. Of that there was no question.
So, where had I gone wrong? Where had I made the mistake? Had I rushed him? Was it too soon? Sure, we hadn't even known each other for six months yet, but I knew enough about him that I wanted to be with him always. I felt certain he would have wanted the to do same with me.
How could this possibly have happened? It wasn't supposed to be like this. No. It wasn't supposed to be like this at all. Not at all. I would ask Brad to marry me and he would say ‘yes' and then we'd spend the rest of our lives loving each other. That's how it was supposed to happen. That's how it had happened so many times in my mind - in my dreams. Brad was supposed to say ‘yes'. He wasn't supposed to run away from me.
I forced myself to stop crying and to start some very serious thinking. What was I going to do now? How was I going to live without him? How was I going to face the rest of my days without that wonderful, chipped-tooth smile greeting me each morning? Or those beautiful green eyes? How was I going to take care of these kids on my own? I depended on Brad to help me, and now he was gone. How was I going to survive without him? I needed him. I needed Brad.
Already my life was empty. So quickly. So suddenly. Where once Brad had filled me with his love, there was only empty space. I was all alone and I was scared.
What was I going to tell everyone? What was I going to tell Mom and Dad? And the twins! Oh, God! The twins! Children's Aid would certainly take the boys back now. They couldn't leave them with a single father. Not at their age. Brad had been the only reason they were brought to me in the first place, and now they would be taken away because he was gone. They would take away my sons and Lindsay's brothers. They would take away Mom and Dad's and John and Bernice's grandsons. I had stolen Jeremy's love for Brad away from both of them. I had stolen an entire family from both Justin and Jeremy. I had let them down. I had let them all down.
I had done a lot of damage with one single question: "Will you marry me?" I hated those words now. They angered me. I had screwed up my entire life, and the lives of everyone around me. I had ruined everything with those four little words. "Will you marry me."
Oh, God. . . What was I going to do?
I looked at my dresser. I knew what was hidden in there. I rose to my feet and moved forward to it. I pulled open the top drawer and took out a small wooden box and opened it. Inside were a few coins I'd collected and a few small pieces of jewelry. I lifted the tray and set it aside. In the bottom of the box, hidden beneath the tray, was a new package of cigarettes, a lighter, and a small ashtray. I picked them up, set the box on the dresser, and returned to the bed and sat down.
I set the ashtray on the bedside table and tore off the crackling plastic wrap surrounding the package. I opened it up, tore away the foil cover, and pulled out a cigarette. I sat there, looking at it. I didn't want it, but I needed it. I needed something. It suddenly crossed my mind that I had every intention of smoking it right there in my bedroom - in my house - with my children there. I would be screwing up that promise as well.
Fuck it, I thought. I've fucked up everything else, I might as well fuck this up, too. I put the filter tip between my lips and ran my thumb over the sparking wheel of the disposable lighter. A dancing yellow flame appeared. My hand shook as it moved the flame closer to the cigarette.
Another hand reached out and pulled the cigarette away from my lips. I followed its retraction. Brad was standing there. I hadn't even heard him come in. Along with the cigarette, he was holding the ring case I'd dropped in his left hand. He placed his right hand on the bed, lifted his right leg and bent it at the knee as he slowly lowered himself to the bed, facing me sideways.
"Right," I said as I extinguished the flame and tossed the lighter in the ashtray. "You've taken away everything else that makes me happy. Might as well take that, too." I didn't like the accusing tone in my voice. "Haven't you humiliated me enough for one night, Brad?"
Brad held out his right hand. "Give those to me," he said. When I didn't move, he reached out for the package and snatched it out of my hand. He opened it and put the cigarette back into its place. He closed the package. . . and then he crushed it in one hand. He destroyed it as easily as he had destroyed my life. "You don't need those," he said.
"Who are you to tell me what I need or don't need, Brad!?" I hated that anger tone in my voice, but I couldn't help it. He'd come back. Why was I talking to him like this? I realized I was afraid to learn why he'd come back. I was afraid he was going to tell me "No" again.
Brad dropped the crumpled package on the bed. "Look, Ted, I'm sorry I ran out like that. I had a good reason."
"No reason you can give me is good enough for the way I feel right now." I couldn't look at him.
He didn't say anything. Instead, he took my left hand in his and rolled my fingers out flat, my palm facing up. He placed the ring box in the palm.
"Keep it," I told him, pushing it back to him. "Pawn it. Sell it. Give it away. Do whatever the hell you want with it. It's yours anyway."
Still, Brad said nothing. He calmly reached out again and opened the lid of the box, revealing the gold and diamond ring inside.
"Ask me again," he said quietly.
"Brad, please. You already gave me your answer. Just leave me along and go back home."
"Ask me, Ted."
I looked into his eyes, but my humiliation wouldn't let me see anything in them. "Please, Brad. Don't do this to me," I begged pitifully.
"Ask me," he repeated.
I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand, but I still couldn't bring myself to do as he'd asked. I sucked in a deep breath.
After a long, deafening pause, Brad said quietly, "Please, Ted. Ask me."
I swallowed hard and took another deep breath. And then I said it. "Will you marry me, Brad?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached beneath his right leg and pulled out a small box he'd hidden there when he sat down. He opened the box and turned it toward me. Inside was a single gold band with a single diamond inset into it. "Only if you'll marry me, too," he said.
And then he held out his left hand, fingers splayed, waiting for my answer. My mind was numb.
I looked into his face. Brad's chipped-tooth smile cleared my vision and my mind. I could see everything now. I knew why he'd run away from me. I picked up the ring from the box I held, took his hand with my left, and slid the ring onto his third finger. My hands were shaking.
Brad took the ring from his own box, held my left hand in his, and slipped the ring over my own third finger. And then he looked at me and said, "Yes, Ted. I'll marry you."
We fell into each other's arms then, hugging and kissing and crying together. I had never been more happy in my entire life. From misery to euphoria in a single moment. We held each other for a very long time. Brad's life flowed into me and through me. I held onto his youth and his strength, letting it wash away the misery from a few minutes ago. I breathed in his heat and his smell and let it fill me, calm me, warm me.
Neither of us wanted to end the hug, but we did.
"I'm sorry I ran out like that," Brad said gently. "I had to go home to get your ring. I was going to surprise you with it on Sunday." His eyes were as moist as mine felt.
"
You were going to ask
me?"
He nodded, smiling. "I had it all planned out. I was going to ask you Christmas Day when everyone was here. I didn't know what to do when you asked me first. I didn't expect you to. I panicked and had to get out until I could figure out what to do."
"You were going to ask me." It was a statement this time.
"Ever since Warren and Bill were married," he said. "I knew even back then that I didn't want to be anywhere else but with you, Ted." He hugged me again.
Brad's hug was stronger than before, and his kiss was much deeper and much more passionate. I did my best to match them both.
* * * * *
I knocked softly on the door.
"Come in, Son," Dad said. "We're awake."
I opened the door and Brad and I walked into the guestroom hand-in-hand. Mom and Dad were sitting on the side of the bed in their night clothes and robes.
"We knew something was going on," Mom said. "We stayed awake in case you needed us."
We stopped in front of them. I know they knew what was going on as they looked at our faces, but parents like to be told these things.
"Mom? Dad?" I said. "How would you like a son-in-law?" I held out my left hand and Brad held out his.
Mom started crying, of course. Mothers always do. She stood up and she hugged me hard and kissed my cheek, then she did the same to Brad as Dad hugged and kissed me, too.
"Veels geluk, Seun," Dad said.
"Thanks, Dad."
He hugged and kissed Brad next. "Veels geluk," he said.
Brad glanced at me over Dad's shoulder, his silent eyes asking, "What did he say?"
"Congratulations," I whispered.
Dad pulled away first, resting his hands on Brad's shoulders. "Every parent wants nothing more than what is best for their children. It took me a long time to see it, but I believe you are what is best for my son."
Brad's smile was enormous. "How do you say ‘thank you, Dad' in whatever language you were speaking?" he asked.
"Afrikaans," Dad said, "and you say ‘dankie, Pa'."
"DAHN-kee, pah," Brad repeated as best he could.
"Dis 'n plesier, Seun," Dad replied.
Mom hugged Brad again as Dad hugged me once more.
"He's a good man, Son," Dad whispered. "You look after him and this family of yours."
"You know I will, Dad."
He hugged me even harder. "Ek is lief vir jou, Seun," he whispered sincerely.
"I love you, too, Dad."
* * * * *
Mom and Dad were upstairs. They would wait there, watching the kids, until Brad and I got back from his parents' home. He had told me they were waiting up as well. They, too, knew what was going on but awaited official news. Brad was reaching for our coats in the entryway closet.
"We don't need those," I said. "We're just going next door."
"It's cold out there."
"We won't be ‘out there' that long," I told him, grinning like a school boy. "Come on."
Brad was right. It
was cold. Bitterly cold. The air stabbed into my lungs and pierced my clothes, but I grabbed his hand and we ran along the path in the snow between our house and the Hayes' home. We stood on the small veranda, kicking the snow from our boots. Then Brad stopped and looked at me as we held hands.
We were both shivering. Several breaths of fluffy white blew past our lips before Brad pulled me against him and kissed me so hard I thought he'd suck my tongue right out of my mouth. His body pressed against mine. Neither of us felt the biting cold anymore. We warmed each other.
When he came away from me, he stared into my eyes. "Where you are, Ted," he said softly, "that's where I will be. Always."
"Well," I said with a smirk, "I want to be inside right now. I'm freezing my ass off."
"Maybe you'll listen to me next time." This kiss was shorter, and then we were inside the house.
Bernice and John were waiting for us at the door. They probably already knew the rings would be on our fingers when we came in. It didn't matter. They were parents. They wanted to see for themselves. Bernice grabbed Brad in an enormous hug even before we said a single word. John hugged me. And then they switched places.
Brad was crying by the time the hugs and kisses were finished, looking down at the ring on his finger, almost in disbelief. "Can you believe it, Mom? I'm getting married."
Bernice was crying as well. Her dreams, not quite as she had expected, had come true. Not only was she gaining a son-in-law, she was gaining a granddaughter and, possibly, two grandsons as well. But nothing meant more to her than her son's happiness. And Brad was happy.
Not many words were spoken. We were all too overwhelmed by it. Brad and I were engaged to be married. We would be a family - completely, totally, and legally.
The fears and worries of only a short time ago were gone now. The most wonderful feeling of pure enchantment had replaced them. I had kept my secret all those months, and I had no idea that Brad had been keeping his own. We had both surprised each other. It was wonderful.
Brad didn't want to make love that night. All he wanted to do was to be cuddled and held, and that's what we did. Me and my Prince Charming in our own little castle of dreams.
* * * * *
December 24, 2005. Christmas Eve.
The house was bubbling with excitement. The turkey was thawed and Mom would be putting it in the oven tonight to begin roasting. She would finish it up tomorrow morning and it would be ready for Christmas dinner at two. It was a
big turkey!
The boys were ecstatic to see Grandma and Grandpa de Villiers again and ran to them without any hesitation whatsoever. Whatever life they had left behind was no-longer in evidence. They never spoke of it. For them, there was only the family they had now. There was little doubt that the boys were mine, especially with Brad's and my union in the future. The boys had a home, a family who loved them very much, and, most of all, a stability they had never enjoyed before. Their own futures were secured. I hoped.
Of course, the twins had to take Grandma and Grandpa on a detailed tour of their new bedroom and bathroom before they would sit down to breakfast and both Grandma and Grandpa had to stick their hands under the tap to see how the water knew when to come out all by itself.
Dad still couldn't tell the boys apart unless he saw Justin's scar, or the lack thereof on Jeremy's upper lip. Mom had no problem. Like me, she noticed the subtle differences and she could tell which twin was which from across the room. They were Mom and Dad's grandsons now, and they were treated exactly the same as Lindsay. The original spoiling had finished. Mom had simply made up for lost time. Now, all three children would be spoilt the same.
Lindsay understood our upcoming marriage and she was excited about it. We explained it to all three kids at the same time. The boys didn't really care and asked if they could have one of Grandma Hayes' homemade sugar cookie. "Not before breakfast," I told them.
I plugged in the lights on the Christmas Tree. They would stay lit now, even in the daytime, until we went to bed. I went to the patio doors and looked outside. It was mostly overcast, and it was still cold. I could tell that by the way the snowflakes fluttered gently to the ground, sparkling like tiny diamond crystals in the changing sunlight. When you live with snow long enough, you can tell how cold it is outside just by how the snow falls. Today, I could see that it was cold.
Brad came up beside me, his fingers entwining with mine. We said nothing. We stood there and watched the diamond dust fall.
Mom called us for breakfast, and, this time, I insisted she sit down with us to eat. When she pointed out that there was room for only six, I said, "There's room." I picked up Justin and set him in my lap, pulling his plate beside mine. Jeremy, of course, pushed his plate across the table toward Brad, then climbed down, circled the table, and climbed into Brad's lap.
"See?" I said to Mom with a grin. "Room for eight now."
Mom joined us for breakfast.
Brad helped Mom do the dishes afterward. Mom still insisted on doing them by hand. Lindsay was going to help until she found out it would involve holding a dish towel in her hands.
"What good is a dishwasher if you don't let it wash dishes, Grandma?" she complained. "You let your washing machine wash your clothes, don't you?"
Dad smiled then. "She's got you there, Lilian. Try to answer that one."
Mom couldn't. She returned to scrubbing the dishes by hand. She scrubbed them very clean.
* * * * *
Lindsay stayed with Mom and Dad as Brad and I bundled up the twins. We shovelled out the drive first. The boys kept throwing snow back on it. They stopped, though, when Brad playfully hit them with a shovel full of the white stuff. After that, they spent their time making trails in the front yard with their tiny boots, accented here and there with a snow angel or two.
We buckled them into the van and drove to the grocery store. Mom had made a last-minute shopping list for us, including two packages of fresh cranberries for her turkey stuffing. I loved Mom's cranberry dressing, but I wasn't at all certain how the others would take to it.
We took our time shopping. We'd pulled off the boys' mitts and removed the scarves from around their faces and loosened their snow suits. The store was busy. Lots of last-minute shoppers. I was amazed at the number of people still out shopping for a turkey. Not much selection left and many of them either walked away in disgust and headed out for the next store or picked up one of the few remaining birds and headed dejectedly to the checkout counter.
We found everything on the list and a few things that weren't. I bought a healthy supply of oranges and apples and other fruit, and a few bags of Christmas candy which were already on sale. And Holiday M&Ms. I loved those things. I didn't buy any cookies or cakes or tarts or anything. Brad assured me that his mother had been baking and freezing them since late October, ever since she discovered she and her husband would be spending Christmas with us.
Back home again, the house was still a bustle of activity. Mom and Bernice were busy making preparations for tomorrow's dinner while Dad and John sat at the table sipping their tea and coffee respectively and chatting about everything and anything. Brad and I kept the kids busy in the livingroom, playing on the floor. There was so much excitement that I didn't think the boys would go down for their afternoon nap. They still needed one, though. Little boys aren't like batteries. Their energy doesn't dwindle gradually. They have only two levels of it - full tilt or none. There's no in-between. They go and they go and they go, and then they stop. No warning.
The house sounded so empty when they were asleep. No thumping footsteps. No laughs and giggles. No screams of delight. No sudden bursts of crying. They were all beautiful sounds that you come to enjoy so much, and you miss them when you don't hear them.
While they slept, we all gathered in the livingroom. Even Mom and Bernice took a break from their holiday preparations to join us. John and Bernice sat on the settee. I sat on the sofa with one arm around Brad and the other around Lindsay as she curled up against my chest. Dad sat beside me. Mom sat in the single chair.
The fire in the fireplace crackled and the stereo was playing soft Christmas music in the background. This was ‘adult' time. Ave Maria and Liebestraum replaced Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer and the Chipmunks. We all needed the respite, and we were enjoying it to its fullest.
"Have you set a date, Son?" Dad asked.
"Not until June, at least," I told him. "We both want the twins to be ring bearers and Lindsay's going to be the flower girl, aren't you, Sweetheart?" She nodded against my chest. She was almost asleep herself. "If the adoption goes through, I want my sons to be carrying the rings."
"It will go through, Ted," John said. "That's how we got Bradley. If CAS didn't intend for you to become the boys' father, they wouldn't be here. This trial period is merely a formality. Give you time to iron out the bugs and get to know each other."
"That was our thought, too," Mom said.
"Still," I said, "they're not my sons until I sign my name to the papers. Ours isn't your everyday, run-of-the-mill family."
"But it is the one the boys need," Dad said softly, almost to himself.
"What about you, Bradley?" Bernice asked. "Will you be adopting them, too?"
"Not right away, at least," he answered. "Maybe later."
"I'll be talking to my lawyer about the legalities," I said, "but I think our union would make Brad something of a step-father at least with all the privileges and responsibilities it holds."
"You're not worried about what people are going to think?" Dad asked.
"Not a bit," I told him. "It doesn't matter what they think. It's what
we think that's important, Dad." I hugged Brad's shoulder just a little bit tighter and his hand, which was resting on my leg, squeezed me back.
"Just like it didn't matter what I thought when you told us about you."
"Oh, it mattered, Dad," I said. "It mattered a lot. Believe me. But this is my life and I had to live it the way I feel I must. This was one thing you couldn't tell me not to do."
"And you were willing to alienate yourself from me to do it?"
"I hoped it wouldn't come down to that."
"So did I, my Sonskyn," Dad said quietly. He hasn't called me that since I was six years old.
"Baie dankie, Pa," I said as tears filled the corners of my eyes. "Ek is lief vir jou."
Only Mom truly understood what had just happened between me and Dad.
* * * * *
The hustle and bustle of Christmas Eve was winding down finally. We had a simple dinner that night and, with a great amount of effort, we finally got the kids bathed and into bed. It was only pure exhaustion that allowed them to fall asleep, though. The boys were talking excitedly in their room until almost ten o'clock before they conked out.
The fire was out now. The twins wanted to make sure Santa didn't burn his boots when he came down the chimney. They'd hung up their stockings on the mantle on the cup hooks which I'd screwed into place. They would stay there always. They had put a plateful of cookies and a glass of milk on the coffee table for Santa, along with nine carrots - one for each reindeer plus Rudolf.
The turkey had been roasting for several hours now and Mom turned the oven to ‘low'. John and Bernice had gone home at last. Tomorrow would be a big day for them as well.
At eleven, when we were certain all the kids were asleep, we filled their stockings and Brad and I went down to the storage room and began carting up all the bags of gifts that Santa Claus would bring to them. The mountain of packages under the tree grew and grew.
I knew Lindsay wouldn't come out of her room in the morning until she was called. The boys had promised to stay in their own room as well, and they usually kept their promises, but I wasn't at all certain they would be able to keep this one. I didn't expect they would. At least not without a peek or two. They did, however, also promise not to touch anything even if they ‘accidentally' peeked on purpose.
Mom took the carrots and cookies back into the kitchen save one cookie, which Brad ate. He made as many crumbs as he could. He washed it down with the glass of warm milk. Dad sat back and watched it all. I could see the joy in his eyes, the same joy I had seen when I was a child. He knew what was going on in my mind and what it all meant to me, and, as much as he complained about me ‘overdoing it', I knew he'd be doing the exact same thing if he were in my shoes. Dad and I were alike that way. I'd learnt it all from him.
I looked at him and he looked at me. We stared into each others' eyes for a long time, and then he smiled at me gently and nodded once. He approved.
It was just after midnight. Mom and Dad were downstairs in the guestroom. Brad and I locked up the house and turned out the lights, including the Christmas tree. We went to our bedroom, undressed to our underwear as we always did when Mom and Dad were here, and climbed into bed. We fell asleep in each other's arms and dreamt of sugar plums and happy smiles on three children's faces. And we dreamt of each other.
To Be Continued
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