Anson frowns.
Our eyes meet.
Silence washes over us as we try to figure out what exactly my baby brother was playing at.
15
Anson
I'm happy. I'm actually happy.
These past three months, since Jarvis walked into my life carrying two bags of takeout, is the best I've felt since the accident. Even prior to that, though, I didn't feel like this. I was overworked, too consumed by things that ultimately don't matter, and not focused enough on the things that do—like family, connection with others, and love.
Yes, I'm falling in love with Jarvis and breaking one of my cardinal rules in the process. But the more time that passes and the more the feelings between us grow, the more I'm convinced that, despite the hurdles his age and my wealth create, he's the one I've been waiting my whole life for. I feel it in my bones, in my gut, and most of all, in my heart.
There is, however, an imminent threat on the horizon to my newfound happiness.
"What's wrong?" Jarvis asks, walking up to me, drying off his hair.
I've been planted by the wall calendar all the while he was taking a shower. I flip the page to a new month. "It's Adam's birthday next week."
"Oh." He tosses the towel onto the bed and hugs me from behind. "Is there anything I can do?"
I think it over. "Actually, there is." I turn around to face him. "Would you like to come with me to the cemetery that day?"
He strokes the side of my face, his eyes filled with warmth and empathy. "Of course, Anson. I'd be honored."
The following week, Jarvis is holding my hand as we walk through the cemetery in silence. When he showed up at my place, dressed respectfully in all black, he held out a large bouquet of sunflowers. He'd found out from Robbie, who'd found out from Dunlop, that they were Adam's favorite.
The gesture touched me more than my meager 'Thank you' could convey.
Grief is a tough one. More than anything else, it's the only thing that's come close to defeating me. Before meeting Jarvis, I was trapped in its choking grip. I may have had awareness of that, but I lacked the tools, and means, and motivation to do anything about it.
Somehow, just by his very presence, Jarvis has touched my soul and has turned out to be the key I needed to unlock the part of myself that died with my son that night. I still don't know how he's managed to do that. Maybe I never will.
"Here we are," I say when we arrive at Adam's headstone.
The next words out of Jarvis's mouth send a stream of tears down my cheeks. "Hey, Adam. I'm Jarvis. I'm so happy and honored to meet you."
Jarvis side-hugs me before taking a few steps back, giving me a moment alone with my son.
I lay his and my flowers down and fuss around with a few errant sticks that have messied up the site. I've never been an out-loud talker, preferring my words to him to be silent. But with Jarvis here, I feel the impulse to speak.
"I wish you could have met Jarvis, Adam. He's…" I glance over my shoulder at the solemn-faced man, and in this moment, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, I am well and truly in love with him.
Jarvis raises the back of his hand to his mouth and whispers theatrically. "Brilliant. The word your dad is looking for to describe me is brilliant."
I smile. More tears fall. I walk over to Jarvis and wrap him up in a hug. "I'm so glad you're here. Thank you for coming."
"Of course. Thank you for inviting me. This feels very special."
I shift back, just a touch, and lock my gaze onto his. "You're right. This is special."
And if we were anywhere else, I'd be brave enough to utter the three words dancing on the tip of my tongue. But given our location, that doesn't seem appropriate.
Or, wait… Maybe it is?
Maybe this is the perfect place to tell Jarvis I'm in love with him, letting Adam be the first one to know about it.