Chapter Text
Saturday, May 4th, 2009
12:34 PM
When Kevin closed his eyes, all he saw was red.
As if the steady flow of sunlight that beamed above him had penetrated the skin of his eyelids, and all of a sudden, the dark had forgotten to be dark. Now, instead, the black he knew was supposed to be there had turned into a deep glowing aura of colour. Something there, something real. It almost moved; if Kevin concentrated enough, it made patterns. Moving, following, chasing something through the void behind his eyes. The colour twisted itself until it was something else completely. Something alive, something breathing and inside of Kevin and- "What are you doing?"
That's when Kevin opened his eyes. Clara stood before him like an angel in the snow. Now she was blocking the sunlight that bounced off the weathered skin of her face, surrounding her like a nimbus of light. Her steady gaze, confident and unrelenting, latched onto Kevin's like a predator to prey. Kevin almost forgot to reply.
"Just sitting. Waiting. I don't know." He gestured back towards the sun with a limp hand. Clara clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Relentless. "Okay, well, Mom said she needs help with the um-" She takes a pause and turns to look at their mother, Helen, who stood further towards the entrance to the garden by the main road. Kevin turned too. "Something. I can't remember." She throws off the thought carelessly. Kevin didn't reply. He was gaping slightly as he looked at his mother, as if he was about to respond, but he never did.
Helen, only 40, stood firmly with the overgrown meadow of grass enfolding her feet. She was leaning over one of three picnic benches that were dispersed around the garden, reaching for some bright red and blue boxes that Kevin didn't recognise. Her hair looked like Kevin's, usually, a dark umber brown that contrasted against the pale tan of her face. But now, in the white sun, the ray of hot light revealed a mahogany that Kevin had seen only a few times before. Something he recognised slipped through the cracks and showed itself. For its beauty and nothing more.
He turns again, now looking back towards Clara just in time to watch her sit down beside him. She exhaled a bored sigh and spoke. "I don't know why she's bothering with all this." It comes in a mutter. Kevin followed where her eyes led to the verdant green beneath them. She looked kind of thoughtful as she spoke, the way the painful glare of the sun made her squint.
"She's excited."
"She's overestimating herself."
"That's horrible." He replies, almost offended on behalf of their mother, but his voice is casual, as if he were just stating it as fact. "If she's overestimating anyone, it's Jack. His flight was 8 hours with 2 changes. He's gonna be exhausted, not in the mood for a party. And since when have we been party people?" It's almost mocking, the way he says it. "It's not like we had one for when he left. We didn't even get birthdays. What's so special about this?" Anger seeps through the increasing intensity of his questioning. When he stopped on that final note, he was almost afraid he'd said too much. But thankfully, his sister responds, her attention lingering on something he'd said.
"Have you been speaking to him?" She asks. Her brows are furrowed, and Kevin isn't sure if her questioning is supposed to sound as accusatory as it does. Speaking on the phone to a family member on their mission is forbidden, and Kevin knows that. He feels nearly nervous to respond. "No."
But if he had been, it wouldn't be the end of the world, surely. Kevin would do the mental acrobatics to justify it in his own time.
Jack hadn't seen his younger brother or anyone other than his own district and the citizens of New York in 24 months. They'd written back and forth collectively 4 times. Twice a year, once on Christmas and once on Mother's Day. And even those weren't the kinds of catching up the 20-year-old could've done with. There's only so much you can fit on two sides of an A4 piece of paper.
He sent postcards sometimes.
"Do you know when he's back?" She looked back up at Kevin now, and they made eye contact. Kevin shrugs
"Oh, okay." She turns away again.
The answer is disappointing, but it seems to suffice because she doesn't push further, or say much of anything at all for a while, but Kevin lets himself get so anxious by just her own watching the cars drive down the road that he can't let the silence settle. And so he speaks. "I wanted to."
"Yeah." It's nothing really, but it feels like it could be. So he continues. "What if..." His teeth stay grazed over his lower lip. "Like...what do you think it'll be like. Seeing him again, I mean." He doesn't even know how to say, and it's painfully obvious to himself.
"I'm excited." She speaks pretty confidently, slowly nodding her head as she does. "Same." It's like the word spilt from his mouth before he could stop it, like a subconscious response. He didn't even know what he expected Carla to say, really. They didn't really talk about this stuff. Their worries, their truths, their thoughts. They weren't honest with each other, at least not completely, not in the way he wished they were.
Something like a barrier had always been between them, and he wasn't sure why.
"What if something's changed?
"What?"
"You know, what if he's different somehow?"
When Kevin looks back at Carla, she looks confused. She was sitting, her head hung slightly forward, eyebrows knitted together, and her eyes narrowed at him.
"Don't look at me like that," Kevin says. "It's been two years, people change."
"Everything's fine."
"I didn't say anything was wrong."
"Whatever," Carla began once more after a few pained moments of silence. She sounded like she was about to get up to go. Kevin watches for any sudden movement. He'll be gone again right after summer break is over. Off to college."
"And then he'll be married."
"Huh, yeah." Carla seemed to think about something for a few seconds. She raised her eyebrows at her own revelation. "I hope his wife is nice."
"Oh, I'm not worried," Kevin says. "You know, he's probably got some girl waiting for him to come back from his mission."
"You think?"
"Oh yeah. He's probably got multiple." Kevin speaks with so much confidence that it feels like sarcasm coming from him.
"What, like a polygamy cult?"
Kevin's face lifted into a knowing sort of smile, and the expression settled into familiarity. It was something they knew they weren't really supposed to acknowledge, much less joke about. That's what made it so nice. That and his shoulders were now somewhat less tense.
"She invited, like...everyone from church."
"Well, yeah. They all know him. Why wouldn't she?"
"I'm just saying. She's obviously...proud."
It's like she's retreating. Her words sank, like a verbal shift of confidence. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure anymore.
"You'd be too." Kevin points out. Clara shrugs. "I guess."
Saturday, May 4th, 2009
14:07
"You know not to hound your brother when he gets here, okay?" Helen's eyes were fixed and attentive, her eyebrows raised expectantly. She was adjusting the full-length, dark blue tablecloth she had just laid over the dark oak. She smoothed it over with a practised, steady palm.
Kevin gave a lazy nod, blinking continuously in the sun's glare that pierced the wide windows of the kitchen. It was cooler inside, at least, Kevin figured. He hoped some breeze would pull through later in the afternoon. "I'm not gonna hound him." He mumbled, folding the hem of his shirt over his palm time and time again until his mother handed him a stack of dinner plates, still warm from the hot water, giving his hands something to do.
"I know. I'm just reminding you. I know this kind of stuff gets you-" She fumbles for the word in her throat. "Excited."
"What?"
"You know, mission stuff. I'm just saying, when gets in-" Kevin interrupts with an unfamiliar firmness. "I get it."
"Just making sure." She waved her hand as if to say she was done, this was done, and there was no need to argue. Kevin listened and looked back down at his hands. "It'll be bad enough with Clara and-"
She interrupts herself with an almost frustrated huff. Kevin began to slowly place a warm plate before each seat at the table, counting them as he went. Dad, at the head of the table, with Mom beside him. He placed both plates down.
"You know what I mean, anyway. We all want to hear about his great time, he knows that, but he's probably exhausted from his plane."
"So you threw him a party?" Kevin asks. It sounds questioningly rude, and he doesn't look up to watch his mom's reaction. He keeps his head down and places three plates down in a row. Jack, Me, Clara.
The moment passed long before Helen spoke again. "You know, something like this could be good for you." She looks back over at Kevin and then gestures her eyes over the expanse of the garden, referring to the party. "I invited some new women from church."
Her voice lifted at the end of her sentence, as if implying something.
"Great, just my kind."
"Again with the sarcasm. You know what I mean, them and their children."
It was only implied because it's basically impossible to be an adult woman in some places, like Idaho Falls, Rexburg, where there were 2 separate Mormon churches, both 20 minutes away, and not have children. Children his age. Helen was only 40, meaning she had given birth to Jack at only 20 years old. By then, she was already married to their father, a returned missionary, and well integrated into the church.
She had followed every single stepping stone the church had set out for her, right into the garden of eternal life.
Kevin sometimes remembers back to when his mom would still read his extracts from the bible before sleep sometimes. He'd been getting older by this point, 10, almost 11. Almost old enough to start reading his own bedtime stories, his other would remind him at the foot of his bed. He would ask his mom about the stories she spoke about. Point out things that he couldn't wrap his tiny little head around, stuff that 'made no sense'.
One night, he asked her why she had never served her mission. If she wanted Jack and him to do it so bad, why didn't she get the chance to? He asked her if she regretted it, and watched her shut him down.
"Are you saying I need friends?" Kevin doesn't sound offended, because he really isn't. It's more of a genuine question if anything. "It wouldn't hurt, is what I'm saying, Kevin." She spoke calmly, her eyes sympathetic, as if she were trying to soften the blow of her words. But Kevin knew what she meant.
"I have friends." He insisted as sternly as he could, which proved to be not very much at all.
"You only ever really see those boys at church or school. I just want you to, I don't know, branch out. Meet people." Kevin sighed, his mind searching to focus on something else as his mother spoke. "A girl, maybe."
Kevin didn't let out a shout of embarrassment towards his mother, like maybe a boy his age would, instead choosing to duck his head down low, hunching his shoulders slightly. He looks at her through his eyebrows, his expression indignant, but not completely mortified at what she's saying. He knew what was expected of him.
"I don't know, I think I'm fine." He shrugs. "I like all those boys just as well, you know."
"I know, Kevin." She sighed, only softly, but weighted by the weariness of her own disposition. "But, you understand what I mean, right? What do I want for you?"
Her voice was kind, threaded with a patience no one saw much of anymore, but insistent in her wishes. It was like she was trying to stoop further down to his level, to understand him. Kevin had a hard time pretending it didn't feel slightly off-putting. He nods, quickly; he could feel his mother's eyes steadily piercing his own.
"I know."
Saturday, May 4th, 2009
16:38
"Anyone home?"
Jack's voice came out more tentatively than he had maybe hoped for. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hello?"
The door had been open when he arrived home, and he'd heard a few noises just like people speaking from the backyard, but he stood on the concrete right outside. When he was met with silence after 2 more tries, he ducked his head forward, walking through the open door of his family's home. Just a moment after he placed his suitcase beside the door, he heard the quick familiar thump of someone running down the stairs.
He looked up, and their eyes met for the first time in twenty-four months. Kevin halted, only 7 steps down the half-curved staircase, and stared.
The sun glared still, relentlessly, through the small rectangle window beside the now closed front door. The blanket of light over his face forced Jack to squint up at his brother. He looked golden, like actually glowing. The way Kevin had always imagined an angel would appear, now Jack was standing by his front door.
He's wearing what he had probably been wearing for the last 2 years. A white shirt, black tailored trousers and a matching black tie. Kevin's eyes look around his torso for his name badge somewhere, but he doesn't spot it. He looks back up at his face. Jack's skin is slightly tanned, with a gentle spot of sunburn over his nose, and his hair looks unbrushed.
He looks mostly the same, Kevin is glad.
"I-" Kevin tries to say something of substance, but something stops him. He can't find the right thing to say. When he watches Jack's expression, it's covered by hesitant hopefulness. "...Hi."
Jack's awkward expression morphed into what Kevin would class as a smile. His body was moving before his brain really told it to, thumping the rest of the way down the hardwood stairs and straight into his brother's body.
"You're home," Kevin says. It comes like a revelation, something he never expected. Jack doesn't say anything; he just tenses the muscles of his arms as he holds him, pulling him tight into his embrace. "You're home," Kevin exclaims once more. Jack laughs, and when they eventually pull away from it, he nods.
"Yup, just-" He turns his head briefly, gesturing with his thumb behind him, presumably towards the taxi that dropped him off from the airport. "Yeah."
"I missed you."
"I missed you, too."
Before Jack could even ask the question, Kevin answered it for him. "Everyone's outside." Jack nods, understanding.
He raises himself to look over Kevin's head, through the back door to the garden. Kevin briefly turns too. The sound of conversation and children's play was coming from out on the patio an rung in his ears. "Uh, should we head out, go find Mom?" Kevin wonders out loud. Jack clearly hesitates. He opens his mouth but closes it only a second later, and then he shakes his head and begins to move past Kevin.
Kevin watches Jack practically float down the short hallway through to the open kitchen to the right. He moves behind the counter and pokes his head over to see through the glass sliding door to the sunlit outdoors. The sound of people had now only grown louder. Jack looked disapproving, brows dipping, and his eyes narrowing. He sighs through his nose and begins to search for something.
"So-" Kevin smiles again. "I don't even know where to start."
Jack's back was turned to his brother, reaching for a glass on the top shelf of the cabinet. He chuckles, coming back down from standing on his toes and turning to face Kevin. "It was good. We can start there."
"Yeah? How many baptisms did you get?" There's a clear eagerness in Kevin that doesn't go unnoticed by Jack, who smiles at the child-like brightness on Kevin's cheeks. "Wow, okay, straight to the point."
Kevin's expression drops into one of slight shock, which then morphs into an apology. He quickly begins shaking his head. "No, no. Sorry, obviously it's not just- I mean- talk about whatever you wanna talk about. Sorry."
Jack chuckled, a low laugh at his brother. "Thanks. I will."
Kevin nods, his lips now in a thin line on his face, his cheeks bright with a sudden embarrassment. Kevin's looking down at the granite counter. He hears the kitchen tap running. Jack doesn't speak again. When Kevin looks up, his brothers sipping from a glass, still looking through the back door and watching the people move by.
"So New York was nice?" Kevin asks, his brows raising, head tilted to the left. Without missing a beat, Jack looks down at his brother, standing on the other side of him. "Yup. Especially in the winter. The snow, it's just- it's great. I've got photos." Kevin's lips lifted into a smile that briefly showed the white of his teeth.
"Mom will wanna see those."
"I know. Speaking of-" He moves forward, peering around for a fourth time. "She doesn't know I'm here, does she?" He asks, his lower lip jutting to the side in a cautious, careful mien. "No," Kevin said, surely, shaking his head.
"Cool." Jack looks back at Kevin and tries to read him. "I just mean, like-"
"No, I get it. I didn't think you'd want the, uh, party and everything, but-" He gestures weakly to where he presumed his mother was, out in the garden, behind the wall. "I know. I'm just tired."
"Yeah." Kevin understands. "But you must be proud, right?" Kevin looks at his brother, his head tilted down, and his eyebrows lifted, expectantly. When he doesn't get an immediate reply, instead of meeting with his brother's shy grin, he speaks. "Don't worry, I'm proud enough for the both of us."
"Yes. I am proud. I met some great people, I'll tell you everything." He flicks his wrist in a wave and speaks with a steady and self-assured smile, a flicker of pride remnant in his expression. "Eventually."
And for a moment or three, Kevin just stared. He'd always idolised his brother; what reason he had not to, he didn't know. He always shone. Not like God, of course, or like an angel - or even as a prophet does - just as him. His light hair stood out wherever he was. The deep dusty blue or almost screaming bright white they'd chosen for the countless family portraits they'd forced them into growing up. He glowed, just like a Mormon should.
After that, it was like there was nothing else left to say. And while that wasn't true at all, and both boys knew that, that's what it was like. The silence that fell right after landed lightly. A dull weight nonetheless, like the words had given up on themselves. But Kevin didn't mind. He had always been content with that kind of silence. He found he thrived in it.
"You know people are waiting out there for you." Kevin sort of speaks as if to warn his brother of what was waiting for him just past those glass doors, but his voice lacked the conviction. "A lot of them."
Jack bit his lip and sighed. He looked down at his feet, and Kevin squinted at him. He looked, not sad, from what Kevin could gather, but not excited in the way he expected he'd be. He looked tired, for one, but that was expected. There was something else Kevin couldn't reach from just looking, something he didn't really want to ask about.
"I know," Jack told him without looking back up. Kevin watched him drag a heavy hand over his exhausted expression and nod. "Okay. Let's go."
Saturday, May 4th, 2009
17:41
The party ends up being not much of a party at all, at least by Kevin and Clara's standards, but the women from the church seem to be enjoying themselves. Kevin watches the unfamiliar bodies in his garden move around as the hour passes, drifting across the lawn in small groups, the whole event a lot more unstructured than Kevin would've preferred.
Over an hour and about fifteen minutes, Kevin watched every single church-goer and distant relative he'd ever known pass through his garden, each one stopping just long enough to offer a comment, a laugh, or a half-finished conversation before drifting off again.
Kevin shifted his weight, hands buried in his pockets, and glanced over the garden again. Someone had moved the chairs he’d helped his mom line up earlier, so they now sat at odd angles, abandoned or repurposed into makeshift tables for paper plates and half-empty plastic cups. A few women lingered by the flowerbeds, nodding politely at something one of them was saying, before eagerly butting in with their own enthusiastic remarks.
Kevin stayed in the same spot beside a conveniently vacant picnic table, watching as the garden rearranged itself again, as if it might eventually settle into something he recognised.
It didn’t.
If anything, it grew looser. The conversations stretched thinner, laughter flaring up in moments Kevin couldn’t quite track anymore, and the spark died as quickly as it arrived. Someone called Jack’s name from across the garden, and Kevin followed the movement with his eyes before he saw him.
Jack stood near the back fence of the garden, half-turned between two groups. His posture was open in that way that made it look as though he’d been expecting them all along. Like, none of this was a complete surprise to him, like he was having a good time. He laughed, properly laughed. The kind where his head tips back, and it inspired the other people around him to begin laughing too. People leaned in when he spoke, even when there wasn’t space to, forming a loose ring around him that held for longer than any other in the garden.
He didn’t seem to notice it happening. Or maybe he did, and it all just came so naturally to him that he didn't mind.
Kevin pressed his tongue briefly against the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t that Jack was doing anything special. He was just there. Answering questions, asking them back, nodding at the right moments. But where Kevin saw fragments of nothing worthwhile, Jack seemed to find something whole in it.
Helen stood nearby, hovering around the conversation more than joining. She kept her hands busy with nothing in particular as she watched him, his expression settling into something fond and proud, which he was sure Jack had grown quite used to. Every so often, she’d step in and touch his arm or add a detail to whatever story he was telling, correcting something small and insignificant.
But she was proud. Kevin knew that. Proud he was hers, proud she had something to show for. This party was completely for her; this might as well have been her ceremony, Jack her trophy. The thought swarmed in a bitter hive as Kevin stood, relentlessly silent.
Another burst of laughter rose from Jack’s group, fuller this time, and Kevin found himself looking away from it, back toward the scattered chairs, the half-finished drinks, the bits of conversation that didn’t quite hold.
He reached for one of the plastic cups on the table beside him, turning it idly between his fingers.
Saturday, May 4th, 2009
18:43
Kevin sat beside the brightly coloured deck of Uno cards that Jack had promised they could play, but at four-thirty, he'd disappeared back into the house and was yet to return.
The afternoon was fading steadily into evening, and even though the late spring sun showed no clear signs of setting, Kevin could feel the sky relaxing as the day loosened its grip. The oaken folding chair across from him creaked with the weight of his father as he sat down. "You playing?" He asks, raising his heavy brows at his son.
"Huh?" He looks towards the voice, his torso twisting uncomfortably. "Oh, no." He watches Marcus's nimble fingers retrieve the deck before Kevin and open it. He tips it upside down, and the cards slide into his palm. "Right then."
Marcus tipped the deck fully into his palm, tapping the edges against the table twice to square them. The cards made a soft, papery click each time, barely audible over the low hum of conversation still drifting from the garden.
“You sure?” he asked again, not looking up this time. Kevin shifted slightly in his seat, his shoulder pressing into the back of the folding chair with a faint creak. “Yeah. I’m good.”
Marcus hummed a sound of acknowledgement and began shuffling. Not particularly well, but out of habit. The cards bent unevenly between his fingers, slipping against each other as Marcus's hand moved around them. “Your mum went all out,” He said. Kevin let his gaze wander past him, out across the garden. The same vague groups of people remained, reshaped but familiar. “She did.”
The cards slapped softly against the table as Marcus split the deck in two, attempting a shuffle that didn’t quite bridge properly. He pushed them together anyway.
“You don't seem like you're having fun.” He said, eyes and hands still focused on the cards. “I'm fine.”
Marcus glanced up at that, just briefly, before looking back down again. “Just waiting for it to be over?” Kevin didn’t respond. He picked at the corner of the tablecloth instead, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. Another pause settled between them, and Kevin couldn't help the uncomfortable feeling that lingered.
Marcus exhaled lightly through his nose. “He’s doing well.” He said.
Kevin didn’t need to ask who he meant. “Yeah, of course.”
“Better than I thought, actually.” Marcus’s voice carried something faintly approving, but never let it reach pride. “Big city like that, not always easy.” Kevin looked up to stare at his father, though Marcus wasn’t looking. “He said it was good."
“Still, a lot of people don’t stick it out,” Marcus went on. “Two years is a long time, especially somewhere like that.”
Kevin’s gaze drifted again, this time landing on Jack across the garden. “He makes it look easy,” Kevin said.
Marcus gave a short huff of breath, still something short of quite a laugh. “He always has.” Kevin’s fingers stilled against the tablecloth, and he sighed. Kevin heard the tap of cards against the splintered wood of the table, as Marcus tapped them into shape.“You thought about where you’d go?” he asked.
The question slipped in easily, and for a moment, it didn't feel as heavy as Kevin played it in his mind. But still, Kevin blinked up at his dad, looking confused. "What?"
“If you went,” Marcus clarified, leaving room for argument but still not looking up at his son. “Where you’d want to be sent.” Kevin let out a quiet breath, folding the question over in his hands. “I don’t know.”
“It comes around quick,” Marcus told him, his tone almost warning. “One minute you’re seventeen, next you’re filling out papers, getting endowed.” Marcus nodded as he spoke. Kevin gave a small shake of his head, as if in denial. “I’ve got time.”
“Some,” Marcus agreed. “But not as much as you think.” He countered.
Kevin leaned back slightly in his chair, the wooden legs scraping faintly against the ground. He glanced down at his hands, then back out toward the garden, looking thoughtfully “I haven’t really thought about it,” He said, after a moment. It came as quietly and flatly as a confession.
Marcus nodded, as if that were a complete enough answer. “It’s a good thing.” A pause. “Gives you direction, you come back different,” He added. And then, almost as an afterthought, “Usually for the better.”
Kevin’s jaw shifted slightly, tightening and then releasing again. His eyes flicked, just briefly, toward Jack standing in the grass. “Different how?” he asked, curious. Marcus paused at that, but just for a second.
“Grown up,” he said eventually. “More… sure of yourself.”
“Right.”
Another stretch of quiet followed. The sounds from the garden rose and fell in uneven waves. Laughter, a child shouting, someone calling for more drinks. It all felt so distant from where they sat. Kevin leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Did you ever not want to go?” he asked. The question landed softer than he expected it to. Marcus’s hands stilled over the deck, and he didn't answer right away. Kevin watched him with focused eyes, desperate to find something hidden in his expression that he could read.
“It wasn’t always easy,” he said. “If that’s what you mean.”
“That’s not really what I asked.”
Marcus glanced up at him then, properly this time. His expression wasn’t sharp, but a bit defensive. The way his brows flattened over his eyes never failed to feel threatening to Kevin. “No,” He admitted. “It isn’t.”
Marcus exhaled, long and slow. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes squinted under the holy light of the sun.
“There were parts of it I didn’t like,” he began. “Places I didn’t want to be, people who didn’t want to listen.”
Kevin nodded faintly. “Yeah.”
“But you go anyway,” Marcus continued. “That’s kind of the point.”
Kevin’s brow furrowed. “Even if you don’t want to?” He asked, his voice felt uneven.
“It’s not really about wanting to.”
Kevin let out a small breath, harsh from his chest. “Then what is it about?” He asked. Marcus looked back down at the cards, turning them slowly between his hands. “Doing what you’re supposed to,” he said. "What He wants for you."
The words sat there on the picnic table separating them, simple and solid. Kevin stared at the ground for a moment, his foot shifting against the grass.
"I don't know," Kevin said, more than apprehensive. Marcus didn’t answer immediately; he squinted down at his son. Kevin almost thought he wouldn’t answer at all for a moment.
“You don’t always know at the time,” Marcus spoke eventually, his voice careful. “Why you’re doing something.” Marcus looked to Kevin, his eyes watching. Kevin glanced up at him. He continued.
“You just do it,” Marcus went on. “The understanding of why comes after.”
"Yeah." Kevin nodded, but it didn’t sound entirely certain; he knew that. His own voice was weak in his throat. Marcus cleared his throat lightly, straightening up in his chair. “Come on,” he said, more briskly now. “One round.”
He began dealing the cards properly this time, sliding them across the table in neat, even motions. Kevin hesitated, but only for a second, before he leaned forward, reaching out to gather the small stack of 7 cards placed in front of him. “Alright,” he agreed, his posture straightening as well. Marcus nodded once, satisfied, and flipped the top card onto the table between them.
The game began, and Kevin looked down at his hand, rearranging the cards slowly.
Outside, the garden carried on much the same, with voices rising and falling, people shifting in and out of place. Inside the small space between them, though, everything felt briefly contained. Ordered.
Kevin exhaled softly through his nose, placing his first card down without looking up at his father's face.
Marcus followed, steady and sure.
Saturday, May 4th, 2009
19:53
Now that evening had officially settled over, the movement around the garden felt even looser than it had in the earlier hours of the afternoon. There were fewer people than when the party had peaked at around three, and conversation was stretched thinner as the evening continued. But the sun was now radiating in more of a subtle amber glow, and Kevin welcomed the calm breeze on his shoulders.
He leaned, his shoulder pressed to the wall, and the rest of his body following. And he decided he'd stay there, slumped, until he could find another excuse to go back inside for a few more minutes. The hour was stretching itself as far as it could go, and Carla was nowhere to be seen.
Jack's face just made him frustrated to look at for too long.
His face scanned around the garden aimlessly, his eyes only a few more long moments away from closing.
That's when he saw him.
He must've stood out somehow. There couldn't have been any other reason for catching Kevin's eye like that, not one that Kevin could find, anyway. But the more he looked over the garden, the more he blended in more or less perfectly with the scattered groups of people that surrounded him.
So Kevin focused his eyes on just him alone. His hair glowed a kind of ginger under the warm haze of an early evening sun, and Kevin wondered what it would look like in the dark, or under bright fluorescent lights. The boy seemed around his age, and stood just close enough for Kevin's eyes to follow the soft line of his nose as it dipped in a bend at the bridge and curved around. His skin looked vaguely freckled by the lift of his cheekbones and the skin of his neck just below his ears.
With a steady view of his side profile, Kevin noted the bored folding of his arms and the way his lower lip jutted out then back in. He, too, was watching the slowly dissipating crowd of people. Who does he belong to? Kevin looked around for a woman his mother's age that he didn't recognise, who maybe shared a similar shade of golden hair, or who was standing out to him just the same.
But he couldn't bring his eyes away from him for more than a few moments. He saw the boy turning to move in his peripheral vision, and Kevin stilled for a moment to watch him. Everything else around the garden, the vibrant grass, the people, the light. It all sort of blurred itself out, allowing Kevin to, just for a moment, watch.
The boy's elbow moved backwards, allowing his hand to move and grab the silver can from beside him. He brought it up to his mouth and drank from it.
Kevin could tell from the way the can looked loose in his grip that the can was almost empty. He watched the way his hands became playful with their own movement, sliding them, tossing them between each hand. His index finger played into the opening of the can, and he twirled it carelessly, his gaze straight ahead at the trees separating this house from the next.
"Well, don't just stare at him. Go, talk!"
Helen's voice cut through, suddenly, like a knife through a thin sheath of fabric.
His thought, his beautiful vision, was lost from his mind for a moment as fear cut through to his mind. A feeling he couldn't help, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. Suddenly, Kevin is small, and God is in the room.
When Kevin was able to shake off his sudden spring of guilt, he looked quickly to his mother, back to the boy, and then back to his mother. He should. He should go talk to him. A glowing opportunity was standing right there in his back garden, and Kevin was just standing there, staring. He nods at his mother, in agreement with her very eager statement and shifts himself forward. He's moving, using his body strength to push himself off the side he leaned on, and into a steady pace of walking. And before he's really sure of what he's doing, he's moving steadily towards this boy, golden and glowing. And he's speaking.
"Hey." Be a good host, Kevin thinks. "Hi," His voice is surprised, almost as much as Kevin is himself.
But it's soft, not nervous, just composed, restrained. Kevin takes him in better up close. His forearms, he can see now, are also freckled. His hair is lighter, less amber, more blondish. But it still glowed, better now up close.
And his eyes were green.
"I'm Kevin," He says, "this is my party. Or- no, it's my brother's party. But like, my family's, you know."
"Yeah, I know." The boy smiles, like it's something he finds funny. "I'm Connor. My mom and your mom go to the same church."
He speaks, talking like it's a fact he's just been told that he's now repeating. It's proud of itself.
"Oh, alright." Kevin smiles, fond of Connor's fact, his head tilted a bit. "I don't think I've ever seen you there. Maybe, I don't know." He fails suddenly to be confident in his own words. "Oh, I don't really go," Connor admits. Kevin furrows his brows. But he's not disappointed, not at all. Maybe it'll be alright to get away a bit from the Mormon. "Never?"
"Uh, no. Well, my Mom's new to it as well. We just moved here." He establishes, his head leaning slightly in as he talks. "I'm not really-" He hesitates in a warm, nervous smile.
"Not your thing?" Kevin smiles as well, knowing, hoping Connor reads his response well. "No, sorry."
"No, ha- don't apologise at all. Please. It's fine, completely." Kevin swears silently. "I mean, around here is like quite Mormon. But, you're definitely not the only one of your kind. Don't worry."
"Right, good to know." He nods, still smiling, now closed-mouthed. "So," Kevin starts, moving to lean against the picnic table Connor stood beside. "You just moved here?" Connor nods, looking up at Kevin. "Uh, Montana. Absarokee." He clarifies. "The middle of nowhere, basically." Kevin nods in understanding. "How long have you been here?"
"Um, we got here Tuesday."
"Oh. Where are you going, Madison?" Kevin asks, curiously.
Connor's brow softly furrows for a quick moment before realisation flashes across his face. "Oh, um, I'm due to, but I don't start till next semester."
"Right. So, after summer."
"Mhm. Fresh start." Connor nods. "Extra summer break," Kevin adds. Connor nods, this time in agreement.
Kevin nods slowly. "What are you gonna take?"
"Like, electives?" Connor asks for clarification with a furrow of his brow. Kevin nods. Connor hums. "Woodworking, arts and um, theatre. Like, lighting, stage stuff." Kevin nods again, this time leaning his head forward a bit. "That's so cool."
"You think?" Connor smiled nervously, not yet believing. Kevin glazed over the dimple on the left side of his mouth. "Totally. I'm taking debate. So, a lot cooler than me. That's for sure." Kevin reassured him with ease. He found himself losing the need to measure every sentence before he spoke it. The natural caution that had ached in Kevin's bones for years was easing. A funny feeling.
"Um," Kevin looks down to where Connor's limp hand held a Coca-Cola can, and then raises his arm to point towards his house, toward the table where cups, glasses, and bottles are sitting. "Are you done with that? I can get you another." He had just realised. "Wow. Good manners." Connor's praise comes sounding almost mocking, but Kevin's cheeks flush slightly just the same. His mouth raises to smile. "How I was raised."
Over at the drinks table, which was really just another oak picnic table by the back door, Connor glanced around the garden again, watching a woman cross the grass balancing a paper plate in one hand and a plastic cup in the other. His attention seemed to pan back to Kevin, who'd been asking, continuously, questions about the small town in Montana where he grew up. He asked about the schools, were there many? To which the answer was a definite No.
Much religion? Not everyone, but not no one.
Many people? Enough
And finally, after Kevin had exhausted his interesting small talk, Connor butted his own way in. "So what about you?" He asked. "What are you like? Have you lived here your entire life? What's there to do around here?"
He makes a gesture with his hand. Kevin couldn't help feeling so concentrated on his expressions, especially as he spoke. He blinked at Connor, almost stuck as the attention was suddenly on him. He wasn't sure if the feeling was intimidation or nervousness; he didn't think so.
They were roughly the same height.
"Kevin frowned briefly, his brows flattening. "What do you mean?"
Connor gestured. "You know. What do you like?"
The question didn't settle in Kevin's chest. Not because it was difficult to answer, no. Kevin could list 3 of his favourite things to pass the time right off the top of his head. But rather because nobody ever really asked him things like that. Family members and adults wondered about school, and bishops asked about scripture. His parents asked about the impending doom of responsibility, or grades, or missions. Even Clara mostly asked questions to fill the dead silence that had settled.
This wasn't that.
Kevin looked down briefly, rubbing his thumb against the rough edge of the picnic table and spoke. "I read." He said eventually. Connor nodded. "I do a lot of studying. Work, church stuff. I don't know." He chuckles, unable to stop the awkwardness that flows.
"Yeah. Okay. What do you do with your friends?"
"I-" Kevin spluttered, smiling, trying to get himself together. "What do you do with your friends?" He asked, defensively.
"What, in Absarokee? Nothing."
"Exactly." Kevin countered. "What?" Connor asks, brows furrowed, leaning forward and gesturing. "This town is massive!"
"I don't know. There are parks? A bowling alley. Is that good enough?" Kevin asked, feigning an irritated exhaustion.
"It's something," Connor says, like it's something he's ready to let go. He smiles, looking away from Kevin now and back over the garden. Past the other tables, the groups of people and over to the sun. Not white, or blazing yellow anymore. A quiet amber as it set behind the fence surrounding Kevin's garden.
Connor watched the sun in silence. Kevin watched him.
“I like walking.”
He said eventually, breaking a comfortable silence. The drinks table was full, cluttered with glasses, bottles, and little red plastic cups, but the area around it was empty, completely void of people.
Kevin leaned against the splintered wooden table.
“Yeah?” His voice gestured for Connor to continue speaking.
“Yeah. I mean, when I say there was nothing to do back home, I mean nothing. Seriously.” He said. “There were some nice sights, if you walked far enough. A creek, Rosebud...something or other. But I mean, apart from that, everything up there is just...brown. Sort of lifeless, even in the summer."
Kevin doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything. He stands quietly, allowing Connor to talk.
"And it really was like, the only town in just miles of cliffs, and rivers and fields. But it was okay, I guess. Just not a whole lot to do."
"I bet you're glad to be getting out of there then?" He feebly attempted to offer Connor some optimism. "Yeah, I guess I am," Connor said, turning back to look at Kevin, smiling briefly. But Kevin could only watch his face for a short moment before he forced himself to look away again.
"Well, I can promise you there's loads to do here."
"Really? You're gonna have to show me, you know."
Something rose up in Kevin's stomach and lingered heavily in his chest. He could feel his cheeks rising to smile and his head nodding forward as he spoke. "I will."
Saturday, May 4th, 2009
21:09
After all the guests had left, and dinner had been served around the Price's dining room table, it was already late. It wasn't completely dark yet, though. The sky was a flattering blend of evening and night that Kevin took to admiring as he stood outside on the patio. Things were moving around him. Behind where he stood, Jack was collecting several paper plates into his hands. Clara was collecting glass bottles and plastic cups that she struggled to make room for in her arms, Marcus was on duty to clean the rest of the garden, and Helen was somewhere inside.
Kevin had originally been tasked with helping his father with any trash or miscellaneous belongings discarded around the grass, but instead found himself lingering nearer to his siblings. Kevin watched Clara make her way into the kitchen with his hands full.
Jack moved over towards him with quiet ease.
"Who's that guy you were talking to?"
Kevin's first instinct had been to furrow his brows, appear defensive.