Brother (Frerard)

My phone vibrated against the palm of my hand. I glanced down at the unknown number and decided to open it, thinking it could be Gerard. I smiled at my accuracy as soon as the whole text showed.

'Hey Frankie. Are you sure this is okay?' I read to myself. I thought about it for brief moment and saved his number under Way. I too was happy to text him. It was different and exhilarating. Now as for the saving of his number; I have no intentions of hiding anything from my wife, but if she finds out she wouldn't be thrilled, however she wouldn't say don't. Everybody just wants me to be okay. I type back happily to Gerard.

'Yeah, of course it is, Gee. Are you still in LA?'
I hit send, only to receive his quick-draw reply. I bet that fucker has his phone in his hands just waiting.

'Wow. I haven't been called Gee since...you know. I'm still in LA. Where are you Frankie? I wanted to ask Mikey but I didn't want to push my luck.'

'I know it's been a long time. I was the only one to ever call you by your special little nickname. I moved back to Jersey. Belleville. So far away from you. :/' I send. It occurs to me that this could possibly count as flirting, but I am in total denial.

I wait at least five minutes and still not a word back from Gerard. I think he could just be busy, or that's what I want to tell myself anyway. Still, I can't resist the urge to text him again.

'I need to see you Gee. x'

'What?'

Halfway through messaging, my phone sings away suddenly. I slide it unlocked and answer it.

"Yes," I say questioningly.
"What do you mean?" Gerard asks deadpan.
"I need to see you," I breathe.
"Why are you whispering?"
"Jamia." I speak cautiously, trying hard to not draw any attention to myself.
"Frank?" Gerard's voice is shaky and anxious, his quivering lips are ever so obvious. "Did you forget about everything?"
I exhale, knowing exactly what he is referring to.
"This isn't the place to have this conversation. We need to do this in person. Gerard, please." I was startled greatly by the neediness of my own voice, feeling slightly ashamed to have shared it with him.
"If you're sure,"
"Of course. Are you able to fly here, to Jersey," I enquire confidently.
"No, but I'm looking at flights. I can fly you here, tomorrow? My shout,"
"I can't accept that Gerard,"
"After shit, you have to. Please Frankie?"
"Fine, Gladly. Send me the details. Talk when I can. Miss you Gee,"
"Miss you too."

~xoxoxoxo~

"What's all this?" I hear a charmingly familiar voice ask suspiciously. I turn in the direction of which I heard it. I try to hide my frown. Looking back at me is my very confused wife, Jamia.
"I'm going away," I say bluntly.
"Okay," she replies, still puzzled. "Where to?"
I hold eye contact for only a minute and let my gaze fall to the black shaggy carpet of my bedroom floor that I'm currently standing on. I grab my left wrist subtly and give it a gentle squeeze, exhaling slowly. I'm always very open with her, but this conversation is one I'd imagined many times over and had also been dreading even before I hung up the phone. Jamia takes the two steps towards me and kisses my forehead, leaving the beautiful red impression of her lipstick.
"Talk to me baby," she whines, taking my hand and leading me to the edge of the bed, taking a seat. I'm silent for what feels like eternity, her eyes staring, waiting ever-so-patiently for my worried words that I am yet to speak.
"I'm...going to...L....A...." I tell her, painstakingly slower than need be.
"And that requires your drowning response, why exactly? What's in LA?"
"Gerard..." I whisper, refusing to look directly at her as my eyes gently fall closed. When I open her eyes are wide with shock and I am completely lost on the endless possibilities of what she could say next. This was a fucking bad idea. It's my fault. I kept fucking telling him how much I need to see him.
"Oh, well...are you sure Frankie?"
"Yes, very sure,"
"When are you going? Have you spoken to him? Does he know? Is everything okay after all that shit that happened between you two? Do you think – "
"Jamia," I cut her off sharply, followed by a small laugh that I let slip. "Tomorrow, if that's okay with you. Yes, I spoke to him, therefore he knows. I don't know what is and isn't okay but we decided we will talk about it," I explain.
"I see, well guess I will leave you too it. Just don't get hurt."

I watch her leave the room, her lips curled in a small smile upon her face. She's hurt, I can tell. She will pretend she's not and that everything is okay, but I can tell. After all, I don't blame her. We have been close friends for many years while she watched Gerard and I blossom and grow and she picked me up when I crashed and burned...when everything exploded like a beautiful supernova, only not so beautiful. It was catastrophic and chaotic; utterly unforgettable in the worst possible way.

I throw all these thoughts from my mind and finish packing what I hope will be appropriate clothes for LA.

~xoxoxoxo~

My eyes spring open with excitement as I check the bedside clock. 7:00am it reads in little red digital numbers. Got to get to the airport, fuck. I roll over and face the empty spot of the bed where my wife should be and come to the instant conclusion that she will be in the kitchen with the munchkins. I drag my heavy, little body out of bed and walk zombie-like to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. It wasn't something I would usually do for it was an often occurrence for Jamia to pop in suddenly with some news that Batman was on TV or that my coffee was ready. Today was different. I needed time with my own thoughts. A locked room and alone with my mind was a dangerous combination, but one I required today none-the-less.

I let the water burn my scalp and drench my hair, giving my body just a quick wash before I get out. Once out, I decide on black skinnies, my converse and I dig through what I call 'Mt Clothes' to find a Black Flag shirt Gerard bought me on our first date, which was so long ago now, it's difficult to remember any details from those drunk messy nights. Everybody is so worried, but this wasn't my fault, it was his. He's trying to make amends so it's the least I could do. If this doesn't go well, I'll pay him back for the flight.
"Babe?" Jamia shouts down the hall. "Time to go!"
"Do I have time for Batman?" I question hopefully.
"No sweetheart. I'll record them all until you get back,"

I grab my suitcase from our room and walk out to the living room to join my family.
"Where are you going to daddy?" Cherry asks in her sweet little voice as I drop down to scoop her up in my arms.
"Do you remember Uncle Gerard, when you were little, honey?"
"I do," squeals Lily from Jamia's arms.
"Well daddy is going to visit,"
"Can we come?" Cherry asks.
"No you have to stay here and keep mommy company,"
"When will you be home?" Lily adds.
"Soon, lets get in the car,"
Jamia takes a step forward and kisses my lips gently. "When will you be home?" She whispers.
"I don't actually know," I respond, scratching my head in thought. He never told me.
"Won't be long, I promise. Ill text you when I land in LA and I'll find out."
"Do I have anything to worry about?" Her eyebrows are furrowed and I am taken back her question. How can you ask that baby?
"Not unless you think there is something to worry about. It will be okay."
I downplay my answer and kiss her again. I know exactly what she means. I wouldn't kiss Gerard though. There is no possible way anything like that could happen. At least not to my knowledge.

~xoxoxoxo~

Notes

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