Every Night (Brush of Love 1)

“I wished John could’ve turned more toward his art and less to his drugs,” I said.

“Dude, could I talk to you seriously for a second?” Drew asked.

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been a bit off since the remembrance. I’ve been to every single one, and it’s never taken you this long to bounce back. I’m worried about you, man.”

“I don’t really know what to tell you. I recognize that. I feel it in my bones, but I don’t have a reason or an explanation for you. Something’s just shifted, and I don’t know what it is. It’s frustrating, but I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“You think it’s the tension with your parents?” he asked.

“Well, I wish they would finally acknowledge their fault in all this too. None of us are fully to blame, but all of us played a part in what happened to John. But they pretend like it didn’t fucking happen and like he didn’t fucking exist. You know they’re removing his pictures from their house?”

“What?”

“Yeah. The last dinner I had with them, there were bare areas on the wall where the color had been displaced. Pictures that had hung there for years with my brother’s smiling face, and they’re gone now. Made me mad as piss.”

“I have no words for that, man. I’m sorry,” he said. “But don’t take all this on yourself. I know you’re doing everything you can to honor your brother’s memory. Taking on the homeless men to help them out. This art gallery. Trying to keep a steady relationship with your parents. But don’t drown yourself in keeping his memory alive. You still have your own life to live, you know.”

“Yeah, and he doesn’t,” I said.

“So, the question becomes would he want you miserable? Or would he want you happy?”

He had a point, and I knew he did. But I had to admit that helping Hailey with her art gallery wasn’t entirely about John. Yes, honoring my brother was there, and yes, I felt his presence whenever I picked up my pencil to draw again, but this project was as much about Hailey as it was about him.

I only wished I understood why.

“He would want me happy,” I said.

“We all know he would, Bryan. We’re all just waiting for you to see that.”

“I think I might’ve made a decision that pushes me in that direction, but I’m not sure if it was a good one.”

“What do you mean, man?”

“Hailey asked me out to dinner, and I said sure.”

“Hailey? Art gallery Hailey?” he asked.

“Yeah. Is that completely unprofessional? Bad luck? Anything like that?”

“You asking if it’s a mistake?”

“That too.”

“Hell no, man. That’s great. Dude. You fucking need a good woman in your life. And even if she’s just a good woman for right now, I haven’t seen a woman on your arm in years. If Hailey holds the same types of community outreach values that you do, that’s saying a lot about her personality, and I haven’t even spent time with the chick.”

“So, you think dinner with her is a good thing?”

“Yeah. Especially since she asked you. Most women aren’t gutsy like that,” he said, grinning.

“She said she asked me because she wanted to repay me for my kindness.”

“Then you take whatever she’ll give you, dude.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “It’s dinner. Not sex.”

“You never know. Those art gallery chicks fly by the seat of their pants. Just take it as it comes. Enjoy yourself. Then tell me all about it afterward.”