Stoneface

Chapter Four

Gwen had decided two thirty might be better if she wanted to pry her mother’s fingers off Liam before their father’s usual return home at five. Sure enough, Liam had packed, but their mother was busy fretting and worrying and wondering if she should also spend the night at Gwen’s. She’d totally freaked out over Gwen taking Liam to the book signing, claiming it wasn’t healthy for him to leave the house.

Gwen suspected the unhealthy thing was her mom trying to keep him cooped up like a fragile china doll.

Her mother sleeping over was the last thing Gwen or Liam needed…or wanted. She took a deep breath. “Mom, he’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. You and Dad go out to eat or something. Enjoy having the house back to yourselves for a couple of days.”

“But what about your back?” When her father wasn’t home, her mother acted like a different person around Gwen. Still a pain in many ways, but not nearly as obnoxious.

“My back is fine, it’s healed up, you know that. Besides, it’s not like I have to carry him.” She grabbed Liam’s rolling suitcase and laptop bag and trundled them out to her Honda Element. She’d already folded the back seats up so she’d have room for Liam’s stuff and his wheelchair.

When she returned, her mom was going after Liam again. “Just because your sister’s gone doesn’t mean you have to leave, too!”

Amy watched Liam successfully fight the urge to roll his eyes. He grabbed their mom’s hands. “Mom, I love you, and you take good care of me, but you need a break. Dad needs a break. I need a break. Amy’s getting her break. Gwen and I want to hang for a few days, and I need to redo her website anyway. It’ll be easier working on it there at her house than staying here and trying to coordinate over the phone with her.”

Gwen took another load of Liam’s gear out to her SUV. His walker and other things he might need to avoid a trip back to their parents’ house. Liam had really good days and really bad days. On the really good days, he could walk with a cane outside, and unassisted inside. On the really bad days, he was practically bedridden. Fortunately, the really bad days were rare. With the latest round of medication his doctors had tried, it’d been over a year since a really bad day, minus the occasional problems like his latest kidney infection. On the average, he used a manual wheelchair for outings and long distances, and his cane or walker in the house unless he was really tired.

He’d had to give up his car the year before. That had put him into an emotional tailspin it took Gwen and Amy months to pull him out of. He lied and told their parents and Amy he’d given up his driver’s license to keep them off his back, but the truth was Gwen had put him on her car insurance so he could still hold on to that little scrap of independence. On really good days, sometimes Gwen let him drive her Element, if she was with him.

Unfortunately, their mother had used the bleak milestone to cling more tightly to her son and keep him dependent upon her. The kids all understood she meant well, but Liam had almost no social life as a result. Except for business trips he took several times a year, Amy usually flying with him because of Gwen’s terror of air travel, he rarely escaped their mom’s eagle eye.

Gwen finally got him out of the house a little before three thirty, their mom hovering the entire time as Gwen held his wheelchair steady for him by the passenger door. He slowly climbed in and hung his handicap parking placard on her rearview mirror.

“See, Mom? I’m in safe and sound.”

Gwen quickly stowed the custom-made wheelchair in the back of the SUV and hugged her mom. “Seriously, don’t call every twenty minutes,” she said. “Enjoy tonight. Take a bubble bath. Make Dad take you out to dinner.” Their father would be home around five and she wanted to be out of there before he arrived. “Love you!”

Liam laid his head back against the seat and let out a relieved sigh as they backed out of the driveway. “I. Owe. You. Big time.” He looked at her, and she didn’t miss how close he was to tears. “I swear, Gee, I was about to kill her. I love her, and I know she means well, but…”

He looked away, out the window. She saw him reach up to his eyes as if wiping them dry. “I had so much fun with you on Saturday. Did you know Mom actually stayed home from church on Sunday? Said she was worried I’d sneak out again.” He took a deep breath. “I feel guilty for feeling like this, but there’s times I just want to scream at her to leave me the fuck alone.” He looked at her. “Know what I mean?”

She nodded. “I know. Don’t let it get so bad next time before you ask me.”

He reached over and patted her on the thigh. “I wubs you, sis.”

“I wubs you too, bro.” That was their special thing, since they were little kids and she followed Liam around like he was a god. When she was little she said “wubs” instead of “love” and it stuck.

Their mom called just as they pulled into Gwen’s driveway. Gwen managed to get her off the phone in a few minutes, claiming she needed to help Liam unload. He’d already opened his door and climbed out, leaning against the front fender and standing there with his eyes closed as if soaking up the sun and enjoying the peace and quiet.

Hell, that’s probably exactly what he’s doing. “You want your chair?” she called out.

He shook his head. “Let me have my walker. I want to take my time getting inside.” He threw his head back and yelled, “Frrreeeeeedom!”

“You’ve got to quit watching Braveheart,” she teased.

He laughed. “I feel like I’ve been paroled. Please tell me there’s a pizza in my future. I’ll even pay.”

“There’s pizza on tonight’s agenda, and a little special surprise chilling in the fridge for you.”

His jaw dropped. “No!”

“Yes.”

“The good stuff?”

“Your favorite.”

He grinned. “Oh, you sweet thang, if you weren’t my sister and it wouldn’t give me mega-cooties, I’d kiss you in a nasty, wet, sloppy, full-tongue kind of way.” He took his time making his way across the yard to her front porch. There wasn’t a set of steps for him to navigate, so he could easily manage by himself. Gwen had gone to the grocery store earlier and stocked all his favorite foods that their mom wouldn’t buy for him, including a six-pack of Coors. He couldn’t drink a lot because of his medication, but his parents refused to buy any beer because they believed all booze was evil.

Well, her father did, and their mother followed their father’s orders.

It took her a half hour to unload and get his things moved into the office. He parked himself on her couch and reached for the remote. “Remind me to buy you a Wii for your birthday so I can come play it. Have you heard from Amy yet?”

Gwen frowned and checked her BlackBerry. No messages, no voice mails, no texts.

“No.” She tried calling and got Amy’s voice mail. “Hey, listen, chica, not to rain on your parade, but please at least text me back you’re alive. Liam’s crashing with me for a couple of days, but Mom and Dad are seriously wigging out over your lack of communication. Love you, and have fun.” She hung up. Liam stared at her. “You think she’s okay?” she asked him.

He nodded. “She needed me to clear some spyware off her computer a few days before she left. She made the hotel reservations for two. I saw it in her e-mail, the confirmation.” He was a freelance computer programmer and made a decent living at it.

“You don’t remember the name of the other person?”

“She made it in her name, but that doesn’t mean they checked in under her name. Once you’re there you can put it in whoever’s name you want.”

“Why would she hide from Mom and Dad like that?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe it’s not Mom and Dad she’s hiding from.”

Indignation filled Gwen. “Now, you wait a minute—”

“Not you, Gee,” he said, calming her and waving her objections away. “I meant the guy she’s with. Maybe he needed to put the reservation in his name as a cover for something.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I think she’s met him quite a few times over the past couple of months. Late nights I covered for her and said she’d gone out with friends, or taken a class, or was running a seminar or whatever. I’m running out of excuses.”

“Well what’d she say when you asked her what was up?”

He shook his head. “I’m not about to do that. Do you honestly think she’d admit it anyway? She needs her space, too.” His face darkened. “I can’t even go jerk off in the bathroom without Mom knocking on the door ten minutes later and asking if I’m okay.”

“Okay, that’s TMI even for you.”

“It’s the truth. I ask Mom to leave me alone, she asks why. I tell her I just want privacy. Then she’s knocking on the damn door every five minutes to see if I need anything.” He snorted. “Yeah, I need her to leave me the hell alone so I can rub one out.” He gave up trying to find something on TV. “I’m thinking about looking into moving to a group home.”

“Why?”

“I need privacy. I get absolutely none with Mom around. I close my door, she’s knocking on it. Or worse, she walks in without asking. God forbid I lock the damn thing. I can’t convince her I’m not a baby. If it wasn’t for Amy and you, I’d go crazy.”

She walked over to the couch and sat next to him. She sensed this wasn’t only about his privacy. She’d never seen him so brooding, so agitated. Her instincts screamed. There was more.

A lot more.

“What are you not telling me?” she quietly asked.

He looked down into his lap, where he worked his fingers together. He finally met her gaze, tears in his eyes. That told her how serious this truly was, because Liam was her rock, the solid, steady one no matter how bad it got. She was the emotional one, with a hair-trigger temper and the ability to fly off the handle at a moment’s notice.

“I love your books,” he said. “I know I haven’t told you that, but I do.”

Okay, weird tangent. “You did tell me that. Lots of times.”

“No. I mean all of them. Not just the mysteries and regular romances. Even the gay and the ménage ones you write under the pen name.”

That raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you read those.”

“I snarfed the ARCs from Amy’s computer.” He pressed his lips together until they formed a white, thin line. Then he took a deep breath and softly said, “I’m gay, Gee.”

She carefully thought out her reply. How she handled this would no doubt define her future relationship with Liam. “Who else knows?”

“No one. I always thought I was, but was too scared to do anything about it until I moved out after college because of Dad. I was sorting things out when I got sick. Since then, I’ve been stuck at Parent Prison, and you know what Mom and Dad would do if they found out. Especially Dad.”

Yeah, she did. Or had a good idea. If he freaked out over her writing about gay men, she could only imagine how badly he’d explode over finding out his son was a gay man.

She leaned in and hugged him. “You know, I’ve been thinking it gets kind of lonely around here. I’m going to end up being one of those crazy cat ladies if I don’t have more human contact. What do you say you move in here with me and we’ll be roomies?” She’d thought about making the offer before. The problem was, the last time she’d broached the subject to her parents her mother guilt-tripped her into not saying anything to Liam about it, citing every reason under the sun except global warming for why it was a horrible, irresponsible, stupid idea.

He hugged her even tighter, and she pretended not to hear his choked sob. “Do you mean it?”

She stroked his hair. “Yeah. Of course I do. I mean, we need to wait until Amy gets back to break it to Mom and Dad, but yeah. You stay here for a few days, then go back like normal, and we’ll plan your prison break. I need a few days to move my crap out of the office to the upstairs spare bedroom and get everything rearranged. I can probably get Bob to help me move your stuff when he’s back from his trip.”

She let him cry, tightly clinging to her as he sobbed his relief. He rarely broke down and lost his cool. She’d only seen him cry twice like this—after his diagnosis…and now. She couldn’t refuse him this. He was her big brother. Only thirty-five, with hopefully many decades of a good life left in him despite their mother treating him like a dying man. What kind of life would it be if he was kept virtually a prisoner by their well-meaning mother?

God knew he’d spent enough time in their younger years bailing her out of trouble. Time for her to pay back the favors.

After a few minutes, he composed himself and she got him a tissue. He laughed. “I hoped you’d handle it well, but you take the cake, Gee. Jesus, I fucking wubs you like you have no idea.”

“I wubs you, too, bro. I wish you’d told me sooner.”

He shrugged. “There was never a good time when Mom wasn’t within earshot.” He blew his nose. “You are the world’s best sister. Well, okay, you tie for first with Amy.”

“We’re your only sisters, dip.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you’re my sisters.”

After Liam recovered, he settled in to do his own work while Gwen checked her e-mail and found one from Tim.

Write more, write faster, Go-Go girl. I need my next fix! Got your review up on the store blog, hope you like it. Kissy-huggy! - TimE.

He included a link.

She read a little nervously, even though she suspected it would be a glowing review. Yep, another rave from him. Not all reviews he gave her were perfect. He didn’t hesitate to point out flaws, but always in a gentle way that never bruised her pride.

She would write him back later, but a glance at the time showed she needed to order their pizza. During the wait for it, she stewed about not receiving a return call or text message from Amy. That wasn’t like her. She’d been gone nine days now. To disappear off the radar like this wasn’t typical behavior for their responsible older sister.

Ten minutes after they sat down to eat, their mom called.

Again.

“How’s Liam?”

Gwen felt tempted to joke she’d hired him a hooker, but didn’t think her ultra-conservative mother would approve of the jest. “He’s fine. Want to talk to him?”

Liam frantically waved his arms and shook his head. “Oh, yes, if I can?”

She grinned evilly as she handed the phone to him. He glared at her and swallowed the piece of pizza he’d been chewing before speaking. “Hi, Mom. I’m fine…I know…I will…Boneless, skinless grilled chicken and steamed veggies…Yes, very healthy…Right. Dinner’s getting cold, Mom. Bye.” He hung up and put her phone on the table. “You are sooo lucky I love you so much. That was mean, making me talk to her.”

She laughed and reached for another slice of pizza. “Never tasted boneless, skinless grilled chicken like this.”

“Oh, please. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a cheeseburger?”

She poked his trim abs. “At least you’re not overweight. I’ll be riding your butt to watch that when you’re living here, you know.” With his reduced mobility, keeping his weight healthy to prevent additional health problems was important.

“Hey, I work out. I’ve got that tabletop arm bike thing I use, and I still lift weights. I also swim three times a week at the Y. But damn, I’m not a friggin’ rabbit. I want red meat sometimes.”

“And pizza.”

“Fuck yeah!” He sipped his beer. “And one of these every so often. Jesus, you are the best sister, hands down. Amy loses. She won’t buy me beer.”

“Too afraid of Dad?”

“Terrified. Last time I asked her, she freaked out so bad you’d think I’d asked her to strip for a living.” He closed his eyes and chewed another bite, savoring it. “This is heaven, sis. Really and truly.”

“Pizza and beer is heaven? Dude, we need to get you laid.”

“Yet another thing not happening if I’m living there. Can you see me trying to date? I’m at the point where I fake hurting every Sunday so Mom’s not dragging me to church with them or guilt-tripping me for not going. She keeps trying to fix me up with these women who…” He shuddered. “They’re either older than me, or practically jailbait. Not to mention another serious flaw.”

“None of them have penises?”

He laughed. “Bingo!”

After dinner, they cuddled on the couch to talk and watch TV. They did more talking than watching, Gwen lying with her head in Liam’s lap. It’d been months since the last time Liam had spent the night at her house, even though he came over a few days a month to spend the day.

Usually meaning he vegetated or watched HBO or Showtime to decompress from being around their parents.

“I may lock myself in my bedroom when you try to take me back. You realize that, right?”

She looked up into his handsome face. He had the same shade of brown hair as her, but he was the only one of the kids with blue eyes, like their mother. In high school, he’d had girls drooling over him. “I promise it’ll only be for a couple of days. You’ll need to start packing anyway.”

“Maybe I should start sneaking stuff out with you a piece at a time.”

“If you want to be moved in before doomsday, I suggest a more up-front approach. What will they do, forbid you to move? You’re an adult. I won’t let them hold you hostage, I promise.”

He played with her curly hair, wrapping strands of it around his fingers. “Mom’s going to cry and guilt-trip me.”

“I survived it. You can, too. Just think—beer.”

He laughed. “You know how to get right to my heart, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, bro. We’ve got to stick together.” She reached for her BlackBerry and checked her e-mail. Still nothing from Amy. She tried calling and got her voice mail. “Hey, I gave Liam beer. If you don’t call soon, I’m ordering him a tranny hooker off Craigslist. Bye.”

Liam roared with laughter. “That’s mean!” he finally choked out. “She’s going to have a cow.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’ll get a response.”

An hour later, her phone vibrated. She picked it up and frowned.

“What is it?” Liam asked. “Is it her?”

Gwen stared at the text message from Amy.

Pls leave me alone. No more calls. I’m staying here a few weeks. Need space.

She turned the phone so he could read it.

“Oh, fuck.” He reached for his phone, dialed, and also reached Amy’s voice mail. “Hey, Amy? Give me a call, okay? Please? Love ya. Bye.”

A moment later, his phone also vibrated as a text message came through.

Told G no more calls. Not coming home right now. Seriously. I need space & 2 b alone.

They looked at each other. “This isn’t like her,” he said. “I really hate to say this, but you need to go out there and find out what’s going on.” Then he groaned. “Dammit, that was the world’s shortest parole on record.”