Prologue
Time.
Times is everything. It’s the beginning, the middle and the ending. But as something ends, something else begins. Takes its sprout and grows from the remnants of what’s left. And then it starts over again. Yes, time is constant. Sometimes you have loads of it. Sometimes not enough. That’s life. And life has its different moments, filled with laughter and tears, firsts and lasts, joy, happiness, anger and sadness. A wonderful, heart aching mixture of it all. But how ever each of our stories in life unravel themselves, unfortunately, undoubtedly, they must all come to an end. Come to an end, so something else can begin. It is the one thing all human beings have in common. What life encircles around. Time.
Grief. A feared experience for all human beings. The loss of a loved one. A moment in life that tears at your heart and soul, makes you question your life choices and wonder if you’ll ever be happy again.
Yes, grief is a strong emotion, Kevin thought as his gaze swept over the many people in their home, offering their condolences and sharing loving memories about the lost one.
As the firemen gathered here today had told their many stories about Jonathan, Kevin’s older brother, Kevin had barely been able to take it anymore. His whole body had screamed at him to leave the room. To just turn on his heels and walk away. It was all too painful. Too realistic for this unimaginable moment in his life. But he’d stayed put, if not for himself, then for his late, beloved brother.
“How you holding up?”
Kevin snapped out of his morbid thoughts and turned his head toward the sound, his heart not even managing to make a little leap over who’d sought him out. The man with short, pitch-black hair and piercing blue eyes was already looking at him. How many times had Kevin not looked at him, praying for those very blue eyes to meet his. Like they had so many times in the past.
But not like this.
Not with so much sadness and remorse in them.
Kevin turned his gaze forward again. “Fine.”
“I don’t think any one of us are fine,” the person disagreed, the emotions in his eyes extending to his voice.
“Then why ask?”
The person with the blue eyes smiled shortly. Kevin had always been quick with remarks, even when he was upset. “Because you’re supposed to, I guess.”
“Aren’t we beyond that?”
The person grew somber again. Indeed, they were. Far beyond it. He was about to reply when a graceful woman in her mid-fifties, all dressed in black, walked over to them. “Michael, it’s so good to see you.” The woman kissed the man’s cheek and squeezed his hand. “The speech was beautiful.”
“Thank you, Aurora. It’s good to see you too. And again, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It was a loss for all of us,” Aurora stated sadly while motioning around the room. “But it’s kind of you to say. How are you holding up?”
“Just about,” Michael admitted, not used to share his emotions. But he figured it was the least he could do for the mother of his work-partner and best friend. Dead best friend, he had to remind himself, his heart constricting painfully like it had so many times this last month. “And you?”
“The same,” Aurora confessed with a trembling smile, her eyes glassy. “It’s been too long since we last saw you,” she continued, her meaning of too long stretching for about six months. “You must come to dine with us for a Sunday roast.”
Michael’s whole being rejected the idea. He was barely able to stay in this room as it was, how could he possibly manage a whole evening with the family he’d so utterly let down? Luckily, he had an excuse. “I have a shift the day after tomorrow, so I’m heading back home after this, I’m afraid.”
Heading back home to New York, Kevin added silently. Where he and Jonathan had moved to as soon as they’d graduated with a bachelor’s degree in fire science.
“I understand. Some other time then.” Aurora patted his hand and then turned to her youngest son. Now, my only living son, she had to remind herself. “Kevin, darling, you haven’t touched any of the food. You must eat something.”
Kevin barely acknowledged his mother. “Not hungry.” He glanced down at his watch, wishing it would be past six p.m. already, so he could withdraw to his room and grieve in solitude.
“Come on, let’s both find something to eat,” Michael insisted as he placed a hand on the small of Kevin’s back and gently guided them through the crowd whilst Kevin’s mother mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Michael. It’s the least I can do, Michael thought. Trust him, it was the very least.
Kevin let himself be guided to the smorgasbord, not even acknowledging the ghost of a tingle down his spine. Michael picked up two smaller plates. “How about some sandwiches,” he murmured absentmindedly, not expecting an answer, which was good, because he wasn’t going to receive one. He’d never seen Kevin this quiet before. The twenty-two-year-old, blonde guy was usually a very chatty and happy-go-lucky kind of guy, not this quiet and distant person, withdrawn so deep inside himself, he barely acknowledged the outside world. Then again, Michael himself was also not the same person he used to be. A part of him wondered if he ever would be again. It wasn’t likely, not considering everything that had happened.
After he’d picked out some food, he motioned for Kevin to follow him to a quieter corner and handed him the plate. Kevin took it but only stared at the food.
“The sandwich is really good. Did you mom make everything?”
“Caterer,” Kevin explained, wondering when he’d become a one-word kind of man.
“I see.” No, Kevin wasn’t like himself at all. Michael just hoped he wasn’t gone forever. Hoped that time would heal his wounds, patch him up to the previous version, possibly scarred, but still him. Michael found himself desperate to see an old glimpse of the boy he’d grown up with and had known so well. All too well. “Why don’t you try it.”
“Not hungry,” Kevin repeated.
“You always were the stubborn one,” Michael muttered under his breath.
Kevin looked up at Michael and their eyes met for the first time. A small yet strong familiar surge ran thought Michael’s body. Kevin offered half a smile. The first one since the loss of his brother. “That’s the only way you can get what you want,” he replied, like he’d done so many times when Michael had been kind enough to offer that same comment while growing up.
Michael returned the smile, which was a rarity in general and not just under these circumstances. “Indeed.” Michael opened his mouth again, about to say something more, when a friend tapped his shoulder and gained his attention. Kevin barely registered the two of them as they exchanged a few words, only resurfacing to reality when Michael excused himself. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s a work thing. But it was really good seeing you, Kevin.” He touched Kevin’s arm and Kevin felt the familiar tingling sensation again, albeit the duller version. “Really good.”
Kevin nodded his head, “you too.” He couldn’t even muster up the wish that Michael would stay. He distractedly watched them leave the room while his mind suddenly guided him back to years long passed. To his childhood, to be more precise.
It was a bright and beautiful day in July, as sunny as they came, when three little boys were playing outside, running on the lawn that was kept tidy all season long thanks to the devoted gardeners. Two boys appeared on the front yard, running toward a tree house that the blond boy’s father had built for them a few years back.
A third boy appeared on the front yard, chasing after the other two boys. “Guys, wait for me! Wait for me!” He shouted, trying hard to keep up. The blond and the black-haired boy reached the tree and started to climb up the ladder. Just as the youngest boy reached the tree, the other two boys quickly pulled up the ladder. “I wanna come too!” A seven-year-old Kevin shouted up at the tree while shielding his eyes from the glaring sun.
Jonathan peeked out the window of the treehouse and down at his baby brother, soon joined by Mike’s beautiful face. “We’ve already told you what you need to do to join,” he said maliciously, knowing his brother wouldn’t succeed.
“I can almost do it now, I swear,” Kevin promised solemnly, the tone in his voice revealing how desperately he wanted to join his brother and his brother’s best friend.
“You have to show us,” Mike retorted.
Kevin straightened up, drew in a deep breath, and attempted to do a somersault, only to end up in a face plant. The boys started to laugh and Kevin threw them an angry look.
“You still can’t do it,” Jonathan teased his brother.
“Can too!”
“Cannot!”
“Can too!”
“Cannot!”
Kevin sent them one last glare before he opened his small mouth, shouting out, “Mooooooom!”
