Rory pushed himself in as if I was a virgin, inching his way inside of me. It still hurt, as I had only had sex a few times before, and unlike Bobby, he didn't use his fingers or mouth to ready me. I think he liked hearing my uncomfortable gasps as he forced his way into me. I dug my fingers into his back and clung to him. But after the first few thrusts, the discomfort subsided, and it felt good to have him inside of me, filling me.
“Lilly, oh baby . . .” he grunted into my ear. “You have the tightest little peach,” he muttered into my neck as he rocked back and forth inside of me.
And then he let out a great sigh, his body contracting and relaxing.
Rory collapsed onto my naked body, a thin layer of perspiration between us, and closed his eyes. I wondered if he would look to see if I bled. But I wasn't some medieval queen. Rory trusted me. And he would have been right to had things not drastically changed yesterday.
He kissed me softly. “That was amazing, Lilly. You were so good.” He brushed my cheekbone with his thumb, rolled over, and fell asleep.
Summer 1957
The air conditioner didn't help me sleep after Rory had stormed out of our house. I laid awake in the bedroom, the low rumble of the cooling unit now replacing the ticking of the clock. I felt that I was close to the edge of something, teetering like I was balancing on the ledge of a building. But I didn't know which way to swing my arms or legs to regain balance. Every choice would lead to falling.
I knew I was close to losing Bobby again, and yet, I didn't trust my own instincts to beg him to run off with me. Bobby had been gone for seven years, he had only been back for a little over three weeks. Was that enough time to be sure? To get up and walk away from my current life? Because that was what we would have to do. We would have to start over. We would lose friends and family. We would be breaking an unbreakable rule.
Late into the night, I heard Rory pulling in. My stomach churned with anxiety. He probably got even drunker. But he didn't come into the bedroom right away. Instead I heard two deep voices reverberating through my door. I cracked the bedroom door open, and heard Bobby and Rory talking downstairs.
Rory was especially coherent. He must have left to sober up instead of drink. Though that was a good thing, it wasn't enough. Rory always did just enough to keep me around, but he always stopped there.
“I know, man,” Rory said to Bobby. “I'm trying. I slipped up today. I didn't think she'd be so mad about the move. It happens all the time! Husbands move their families around. I'm trying to give her a better life.”
“Ro, have you ever really asked her what she wants? Not what you think is a better life for her, but what she thinks is missing?” It was bizarre to hear Bobby counseling his brother about our relationship. I sympathized with how hard this must be for him, both wanting the best for Rory and what was best for himself. I understood why he didn't like who he was becoming. Every word, every hug, every kind gesture towards Rory was stained with our betrayal. Everything Bobby said or did was laced with the poison of a lie so big, that eventually it would consume their brotherhood. What was best for one brother, was devastation for the other. Bobby was faced with an impossible choice when giving Rory advice: betray his brother or himself.
“Bobby, she doesn't know what she wants.”
I did. The problem was Rory could never provide it. He was fighting a battle he had no chance of winning.
“Maybe she's scared to tell you.”
“You know, I had a memory I hadn't thought of in a long time.” Rory changed the subject.
“What's that?” Bobby asked.
“Remember when we were . . . I guess you'd have been seven and I was eight. We would go deep into the forest to climb the thick, old trees? I fell off the tree and broke my ankle.”
“Oh yeah. It's foggy, but I do.”
“The thing was just bent and ugly.”
“Yeah. That I can't forget.”
“And you, for some reason, you didn't want to leave me alone to get help. So you made me piggyback onto you. And you carried me home. I was just a mess. Hurt like hell.”
“Yeah. I did do that, didn't I?” Bobby recalled.
“Yeah you did,” Rory said.
I waited for Rory to add to the story. To interpret it in some way. Maybe ask Bobby why six years ago, he did leave Rory behind. Or for Bobby to ask for more details about the day he carried the full weight of his brother on his back through the unforgiving terrain. A feat for any boy, but a seven-year-old? That's a heroism far beyond his years. But they didn't say anything for several seconds.
Finally Bobby spoke. “I should head to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”
“I do too. Actually, I'm going to go out of town for a few days. Last minute business.”
“Oh, you just found out?”
“Yeah, some customers in Illinois.” Rory sounded annoyed. The trip was news to me. The guilt I felt over hearing the two brothers bond was tempered by the possibility of more alone time with Bobby.
I slid back into the bedroom and laid in the bed, pretending to sleep.
Minutes later, Rory came in quietly, undressed and slid into bed with me.
“I'm sorry, Lilly” he whispered. It was low, and I don't think his intention was to wake me, so I didn't respond. He turned away and went to sleep.
By the time I got to the kitchen the next morning, both Rory and Bobby were up and moving. I dreaded walking in and facing them after the tense events of the night before.
“Morning,” Bobby greeted me as I entered the kitchen. Rory was sitting with the paper.
“Morning,” I replied.
“Lilly, I have to go out of town. Been called on some last minute business,” Rory announced.
“Okay,” I replied, without a hint of protest. I couldn't even feign surprise. What I was more interested in was Bobby being fully dressed and his rucksack sitting beside his chair at the table.
“You want some toast, Lil?” Bobby asked.
“No . . . actually I'll have a piece if you're making some.” I worked my way over to the coffee, preparing myself to ask the question. I had to do it with the same amount of detachment I felt about Rory's business trip, when inside, my thoughts were swirling with countless scenarios.
I blew into the steamy mug. “You going somewhere?” I jutted my chin at the bag.
“He's going to do a little traveling,” Rory interjected. “I begged him to stick around a while longer, but you know Bobby and his wanderlust—”
“I'll stay in touch,” Bobby added. “I'm just heading west for a bit. I need to figure out what I'm going to do next.”
My chest tightened as if an invisible force was clenching it from the inside. “Oh,” I said. “Well, don't be a stranger, you know.”
“I made sure to make him promise to call at least once a week,” Rory said.
“How long?” I asked.
“A couple of months.”
“And after that?”
“Depends,” Bobby replied.
I looked down at the coffee to take a sip, and noticed the dark liquid sloshing from my trembling hand. I put the cup down on the counter to hide my physical response. Bobby watched the whole thing with sorry eyes as Rory tended to his breakfast. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Bobby couldn't just sweep in and give me a taste of the life I was meant to have and then snatch it away like a thief. I knew things weren't perfect. I knew I had a choice to make. But I didn't trust Bobby's words. I didn't trust I would ever hear from him. It felt like he was dying on me all over again.
“When do you head out?” I asked.