The Dirt Whispered, Ch. 4
It took me a long time to collect myself after Nick said that to us, demanded that we “be normal.” I just sat on the couch staring at the floor, wishing I knew some way to fix this. I wasn’t really even worried about the press, or the label, or even what our parents were going to say. I just needed to know how to fix what had happened with Nick, how to make things better between the three of us. I knew Nick didn’t really mean what he said. He was just frustrated, upset, angry with us for not being as careful as we should have, but Nick wasn’t going to take back what he’d said, and I wasn’t going to apologize for loving Kevin.
And, even before I dealt with Nick, I needed to make sure Kevin was okay. He was always the talker among us. When the two of us had problems, got into fights, whatever, he would prefer the fight, I would prefer the flight. We loved each other, so much, but we weren’t perfect, and I always liked to ignore that. I knew Kevin well enough to know that if he tried to ignore it, he would just spend all his time thinking about it.
I finally made my way upstairs so I could talk to him; I knew he was in our room. He was essentially teenaged that way; he always escaped to his bedroom when he wanted to be alone. When I pushed the door open, he was doing what he always did when he was upset: cleaning. That surprises almost everyone I tell. He’s a guitarist, a musician, so of course, when he’s upset, he has to run to find his instrument. But, that’s not how it was; he always cleaned. I think he found it more productive than wallowing in his depression.
“Kev?”
He looked up at me, managed a faint smile, but didn’t pause in picking up the clothes I’d carelessly thrown on the floor in the past week. He picked them up in a color-coordinated way - all blacks, then whites, the blues, then reds. Even if he was just carrying them to our hamper, the clothes had to match.
I sighed, closing the door behind me and moving over to sit on his meticulously-made bed. “Are you okay?”
“To be honest…” He trailed off. He didn’t really have to finish it; I knew where he was going with it.
“Nick’s just upset.” I knew he knew that; he was always just a little bit more in-tune with Nick than I was. “He gave us his blessing when we got together; he’s not going to retract it now. When everything settles down, and we’ve done damage control and everything, he’ll be back to normal.”
Kevin didn’t respond immediately. He was staring at his bookshelf. I knew he was counting the books; he liked even numbers. I don’t know why he did it then. He hadn’t touched any of them in a while; it’s not like they’d just rearrange themselves. He looked at me when he was satisfied there were exactly twenty books there. “The fact that he said it means that somewhere in him, he means it, Joe.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do about that.” His smile was gentle as he looked over at me again. “You’re wrinkling my bedspread.”
I stood up. That was a sign that he wanted to be alone. I leaned in to kiss him before I left; he turned his head so my lips just grazed his cheek. I didn’t know it then, but I wouldn’t be able to kiss his mouth again for more than a year.
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There’s something about the fact that Nick is breathing like he’s in a small, airtight compartment that tells me just how anxious he is, as we walk up the front steps of the house. I almost want to hold his hand, the way Kevin used to, when our little brother was nervous before interviews or big performances. I don’t though. We aren’t close enough anymore.
To be honest, today is the first time I’ve seen Nick in a few months. He’s been touring, which is great; I mean, if he can still keep up with the life, that’s awesome. He asked me to come with him, you know, maybe sing a few old Jonas Brothers songs with him, but I told him I wasn’t going anywhere while Kevin was sick. He understood, and he didn’t push it. I wish he’d been this mellow when we were younger.
He looks good. His hair is still cropped pretty short, but he’ll always have that one curl that will not be tamed; I’m pretty sure the girls still love him for it. It kills the intensity he’s always trying to go for, makes him look just a little bit less intimidating. Right now, he looks younger than I’ve ever seen him look, and I attribute it to fear.
This is his first time here. I’ve never asked him to come, and he’s never asked if he could. It was just an unspoken agreement we had; I didn’t want him near Kevin, and he was scared to be near Kevin. But, all of that is going straight out the window, since the nurse is opening the door. (Her name is Susie, by the way; I only learned it last week, and now that I think about it, she’s probably introduced herself or worn that nametag a hundred times and I’ve just never noticed. I never was the most observant of fellows.)
She seems surprised that I have company. I introduce my brother to her, but she just smiles. She’s seen Kevin’s photos of him; she knows him. They shake hands. Nick wipes his on his jeans first. The fact that his palms are first date-sweaty almost makes me laugh, but I just allow myself a clandestine little smile, and we follow her down to Kevin’s room. Nick waits outside, without me having to tell him to.
Kevin is sitting in his ratty armchair by the window when I walk in, and behind his glasses, his eyes light up. It still makes my stomach do flips that he looks at me that way, even after all these years. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi.” His voice is quiet. Someday, I’ll get him back to the boisterous, beautiful boy he was before. His eyes flick behind me, dim a little. “He didn’t come?”
I smile gently at him, crouching before him and taking his hand. “He did. He’s waiting to make sure it’s okay he can come in.”
He’s nodding before I can finish speaking. I don’t know how I never realized he misses him. Nick seems to have been listening, or something, because he peeks around the edge of the door, and I’m still looking at Kevin, and… he smiles.
For Nick. It’s awkward and unsure, but Kevin’s first smile since he got sick is for Nick. I’m crushed. I’ve been here every week, for a year, praying that one of those Saturdays, he would smile at me, and he doesn’t smile for me at all. He smiles for Nick.
I don’t show my disappointment, of course. I just step to the side, and Kevin stands up, and in the next moment, the two of them are holding each other so tightly, and Nick’s arms are around his shoulders, and he’s crying and apologizing over and over - “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”- and Kevin’s just hushing him gently, rubbing his back, the way he would have any other time, always the perfect big brother, and I want to hate Nick all over again for being the one to bring him back.
Nick pulls away first, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye, laughing sheepishly through his tears. Kevin turns to smile at me, and my heart swells at the fact that he just seems to be unable to stop, and I think maybe I should thank Nick instead of hate him. He cups my face in his hands and pulls me in to kiss me, and there’s something about the choked sound that Nick makes when he sees it that reassures me, because it’s the kind of sound you make when two people you love are happy.
Kevin whispers a “Thank you” against my mouth, and he might as well have said “I love you” for all the things his voice holds. The three of us gather on Kevin’s bed. Nick takes the guitar I brought for Kevin last week and lays it across his lap, and he’s playing chords, and sometimes we hum or sing along with the song, and sometimes Kevin and I kiss, and Nick serenades us, and the moment is perfect, and for just a second, I think I can maybe forgive him.