(Now) Brody: Uphill Battle

I sighed and looked at my phone.  I could hear Liv's voice trail off as she went downstairs.  She was talking to her parents, and from what I heard before she moved out of earshot, it sounded like her mom was much more excited today than she'd been at first yesterday.  I was relieved.  Despite my little show of confidence yesterday, I was definitely worried that her parents wouldn't be thrilled.  I know Liv claimed they loved me, but they barely knew me.  I also knew they were a little overprotective and we hadn't been together that long, nor had I asked for their blessing.

Not asking for their blessing had been a very calculated move.  I knew it would potentially make for having to smooth things over with her parents, but I also knew that Liv would view me asking their blessing as asking for permission and wouldn't like it at all.  I understood that a lot better since she had explained what it had been like growing up with parents that were fearful for her safety on a regular basis.  She'd spent so much time resisting--but ultimately bending to--what they wanted that she was pretty set on living her life without their input now.  I had thought about pros and cons, but in the end, since I was marrying Liv and not her parents, I had made the choice that was better for Liv.

I was also a little worried this entire wedding would be an uphill battle.  In our casual conversations about it (plus in little asides here and there), Liv made it fairly clear that she wanted to get married in the mountains.  I didn't know if that would change when it came to actually planning a wedding, but I do know that there aren't any mountains in Wisconsin.  I didn't know her parents well enough to know if they'd be upset if Liv decided she wanted to get married here instead of at home.

I turned my thoughts back to the phone in my hand.  I needed to call my brother.  I felt a tiny bit of relief that I didn't have to call my dad, but it was instantly replaced by a stab of guilt.  I should be sad that I don't have a dad to share this news with.  Instead, I'm relieved because I won't have to bust my ass to protect Liv from him.  That's not really the thought that a loving son should have.  I shook my head to clear it, and stabbed my finger at Ken's name in my contact list.  A brief lag, then the number popped up on my screen along with text that said, "Calling Ken".

It rang one and a half times before his voicemail suddenly picked up.  I felt a flash of irritation, because I knew he'd declined the call, sending me to voicemail.  As his recorded message played, I debated if I should leave the news in the message or just ask him to call back.  I didn't have much time to think, and when the recording beeped, I said, "Ken, it's Brody.  I called to share some news with you.  I proposed to Liv this weekend, and she said yes.  So we're engaged.  Give me a call, bro, because I haven't talked to you in a long time."

It was a stupid message, and I felt sad as I hung up.  I wanted the Ken from before Heather's death back.  My best friend.  My big brother.  The one who took care of me and beat up the bigger kids for me and shielded me from the evidence of my dad's failures as a family man.  This Ken was one that was rude to my girlfriend, sent my calls straight to voicemail, and never called or visited.  To be fair, though, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd called him in the last year.  It was hard, because I was always worried I wouldn't get sober Ken.  Even worse than remembering the dark, scary years of Ken's drug and alcohol use after Heather's death was the fear that one day they'd return.  It was easier to just not call and pretend to be oblivious.

I turned my attention back to my computer to try to get some work done.  I'd just gotten my brain focused back on press releases and public appearances when my phone rang.  I glanced at it, reached to silence the ringer, and then looked again.  It was Ken, calling me back.  I picked up.

"Hello?"

"The fuck is wrong with you, that you leave news like that in a voicemail?" I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.  He got harder and harder to read as time went on and the space between us grew bigger.

"Well, I had to choose between leaving it in a voicemail and taking the chance that you'd just not call me back and hear it from someone else before you heard it from me.  Lose-lose situation," I responded smoothly.

"I would have guessed you would have sent Jen to do your dirty work," he retorted, taking a stab at me for not calling him when Dad died.

"You don't call her back either," I pointed out.  She'd called him 3 times, he hadn't called any of us back.  Not me, not her, not Mom.

"Yeah, well, that fucker can rot in hell."  I cringed, my mixed feelings about our father stabbing me again.  I wasn't surprised that he felt that way, but I was surprised at the next thing out of his mouth.  "Sorry, Brody.  I know....well, I'm sorry."

"Thanks, man."  I didn't know what else to say.

A long silence stretched out, and I felt the gap between us widen painfully as neither of us spoke.  "So," Ken said finally.  "The girl from Thanksgiving, huh?"

"Yeah," I replied.  "The girl from Thanksgiving.  Her name is Olivia.  Liv."

"I remember her name.  I wouldn't have been such a dick to her if I'd have realized you were for real with her."

"That's a generous admission," I joked.  "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

He chuckled, and I felt instantly lighter.  "She's too good for your sorry ass, you know that, right?" The edge was gone from Ken's voice, and I laughed with him.  "She took my shit like a champ.  I approve."

"That's a relief, I won't have to beg Don to take that expensive diamond back."

He paused, and his voice sounded strange when he spoke again.  "I hear she handled the bastard's bullshit well too." Even now, after his death, he couldn't acknowledge our father without swearing.

"She was amazing both times she had to deal with him," I agreed.

"Don't fuck it up, little brother."  It was the most brotherly thing he'd said to me in years.  His voice was actually warm when he said it, and it made me smile.

"I'm trying not to," I replied.  "Any tips?"

At that, he burst into laughter.  "You're still an asshole.  Good to know that some things don't change.  Look, I have to get going, but I'm glad you called.  And Brody?  Congratulations."

"Thanks, Ken," I said.  We said goodbye and I hung up, feeling strange about the way the conversation started, but relieved at how it had turned out.

I turned back to my computer, determined to focus on getting some work done now.  I'd promised Liv that every Sunday from noon on was "us" time, with no work, but since we'd spent Friday, yesterday, and this morning together, she'd insisted on me getting some work this afternoon.  I tried to protest, but I sensed that she needed some downtime to recharge after the crazy and slightly overwhelming weekend we'd had, so I'd taken her up on it in the end.

I was just starting to think about taking a break when a light knock on my office door made me look up.  Liv was leaning against the doorframe, smiling at me.  "Hungry?" she asked.  "I think I'm going to make some dinner."

"Yeah," I answered, returning her smile.  "Want some help?"

"Sure," she replied, coming into my office.  She cocked her head a little and said, "Did you talk to your brother?"  She sat down on a clear spot on my desk and kicked her legs a little, bumping her toes gently against my shins.  I slid a hand down her bare calf and gripped her heel, pulling her foot into my lap.

She sighed happily as I began to massage the arch of her foot.  "I did," I answered carefully.  She arched one eyebrow as if to say, "okay, annnnnd?"  "It went...better than I expected."  I don't know what I was trying to avoid talking about my brother with her.  I always wanted her to be more open with me, I should probably give her the same.  But for some reason, talking about my relationship with my brother was just hard.

"That's good," said said.  She was still watching me curiously.

I moved her foot back down to dangle and took the other one.  "I wasn't sure what to expect, and it didn't start off very well, but by the end it was better.  He was sure to let me know that you're too good for me."  She looked surprised.  "He's used to women coming in and out of my life--both by my doing and theirs, but mostly mine.  And he's...Well, he's just Ken.  In his own weird way, he was probably trying to protect you from me.  Now that he knows for sure that I'm serious, I think things would go a lot differently."

"Hmmmm," she murmured, not sounding convinced.  And I couldn't say I blamed her.

"I know," I replied.  "I don't expect you to have any positive feelings for him until he earns them."

"I'm open to giving it a shot," she said, finally.

I wrapped my hands around the tops of her calves and pulled my chair closer to her.  She propped one foot on either armrest of my chair as I let my forearms rest on her thighs.  Her hands slid from my wrists all the way up to my shoulders.  "Thank you," I said graciously.  "That's all I can ask of you."  I moved my hands to her hips and pulled her closer to the edge of my desk.  My fingers slipped underneath the hem of her shirt and brushed across her bare skin.  I dropped my head down and pressed my lips to the smooth skin of her leg.

"I'm hungry," she protested half-heartedly.

"So am I," I replied, lightly biting her inner thigh.  She wound her fingers into my hair, keeping my head close to her leg.  "Food?" I asked.  I caught the edge of her shorts in my teeth and tugged gently.  "Or....?"  As I waited for her to decide, I slid my tongue along the skin just below the hem of her shorts.

"Food can wait," she groaned, wrapping her legs around my back and pulling me even closer.  She lifted her hips so I could pull her shorts off.

"Good decision," I said with a grin.

"We'll see about that," she teased me.  "I'm awfully hungry so you'd better--" she stopped with a sharp intake of breath as my mouth roamed to flesh that had previously been covered.

I paused and looked up at her.  "Make it worth it?" I finished for her.

She nodded, tightening her fingers in my hair.  "Oh, I will," I promised.