For Nicky (2 page)

While Nick was doing what was best for him and his future, I was doing the normal high school and college thing.  I enjoyed high school, except for the assholes I still felt the need to keep away from Nicky.  I did well in most classes and I was good in whatever activity or sport I chose to do.  I had a few really good friends who accepted Nick and never made fun of him.  They knew he was part of my life and they never excluded him.  That was really important to me.  Luckily, since Nicky was in classes at the center, there weren’t as many fights at school once I hit high school.  Outside of school was a different story. It sort of became a joke that if I was ever seen WITHOUT a black eye, a busted lip, or bloodied knuckles it would make history.  I got in only a few fights in high school, all of them because I’d catch someone making fun of my brother or calling him names when they thought I couldn’t hear. Most of my fights in high school were on the basketball courts where I’d go to play pretty much daily. Guys who knew Nick or me well never pushed things but the assholes who would make fun of Nick, or any other person with disabilities, always got what was coming to them. No one should be able to get away with hurting someone else.

Nick and I didn’t spend all our time together, but he always came first for me.  The only friends I let in were the ones that understood and respected that.  I dated on and off through high school but never got very serious with any one girl.  I did the usual homecoming dances and proms and a lot of big group dates.  I didn’t party or get drunk much, it just wasn’t my thing.  Looking back, I think I didn’t get too serious with a girl because I thought it would maybe confuse Nick or make him sad that he didn’t have that.  Girls were fun, but I was usually too busy fighting or looking for a potential fight or threatening the kids who made fun of Nick, to be too serious with the girls.  I mean, I had my fair share of making out and the usual rounding bases
, but it never surpassed that. I think I was just too preoccupied with protecting Nicky to let things go beyond just having some fun. I would venture a guess, in retrospect, that the reason I skipped partying is because I knew Mom and Dad had enough on their plates with my fighting without having to add me partying and drinking to the mix.

My parents worked hard for us.  My mom stayed at home to care for us and the house.  We lived in a gorgeous older home on a quiet, shaded street. Dad always made sure it was painted and looked nice on the outside. Our home wasn’t always the same color, Mom and Dad both liked to change it up, but I mostly remember it being a darker green with white trim. I loved the front
porch, it wrapped all the way around the front and sides of the house and had beautiful columns. It was a great porch to sit on and play on and Dad always decked it out festively for Christmas. The front yard had a large oak tree on one side which offered great shade in the summer and was gorgeous in the fall. There was also a weeping willow tree on the other side. Nick and I spent many days outside playing in our fort under the willow tree. Mom kept the bushes and flower gardens in the front looking beautiful. She always planted colorful flowers in the beds and around the oak tree and the mailbox.

Inside of our house was definitely lived in but it was clean and comfortable and always looked nice. The kitchen was in the back of the house, with a back door leading to a fairly good size backyard where we’d have bar-be-
ques in the summer and build snowmen in the winter. For years, our backyard boasted a huge maple tree that had a hollow spot toward the bottom. You can bet that Nick and I made use of that hollow as another “hidey hole” as Nick referred to it. Sadly, that tree got hit by lightning a few years back and had to be cut down. Mom loved her backyard and spent a lot of time out there. She had a swing under a little canopy where she would sit and read while she watched us play. There was a small hill that afforded Nicky and I place to race our remote control cars in the warm weather and a place to sled in the snow. After I moved out, Mom and Dad installed a fountain and a pond where they have some large goldfish.  Nicky enjoys watching and feeding the fish.

Off the kitchen was a door to the basement. Before I went to college, the basement was sort of just used as storage and Nick and I would play down there sometimes. I lived down there during college. Through the kitchen was the dining room. We had a big oak table where all of our meals were eaten. The breakfast nook and table in the kitchen weren’t big enough for a family meal. Off of the dining room was a bathroom, an
office, and a stair way. Beyond the dining room was the living room and another bedroom. Mom and Dad had the front bedroom. It was decorated simply and had king size bed, two dressers, and mom’s nightstand. It was a pale green with cream accents and pretty nature prints. Our living room was where we spent the most time. We had a big wrap around couch with an ottoman. The colors were tan and a burnt orange. Mom had little knick-knacks and pictures on the coffee tables and entertainment center. The front door, which was almost never used, opened into a little foyer type room at the front of the house and guests could hang their coats there. Luckily, we had two bathrooms. Mom and Dad mostly used the one downstairs which was attached to their room and Nick and I used the upstairs one. Our rooms were upstairs. Nick and I were always used to being together so, even when Mom and Dad gave us our own rooms and let us pick out the paint colors for them, we usually ended up sleeping in one room. Nick picked blue for his room and Mom accented it with yellows and reds. He had the video game system in his room, along with a computer, and most of our toys. I chose gray and red for my room. Nick had a twin bed in his room, but he usually slept in my room on the futon bed while I slept on my own twin bed. Our bathroom just had a stool, a sink, and a shower, but that’s pretty much all boys need. I loved our house and I loved growing up there. It was comfortable and homey and safe. I knew there was no one there that I had to protect Nicky from. I could relax and let my guard down. Even now, as a grown man, I feel safest and most relaxed in my parents’ home and I spend a lot of time there.

When we got older, Mom volunteered at our school.  She now works part time at the community center but in a capacity were Nick can still be on his own even with Mom there.  She’s there
, but not smothering him.  Mom works as a clerical assistant at the center. She helps with record keeping and general office duties. I know she always has a smile for visitors or new families who come into the center. My mom has a gentle yet efficient way about her that lets people know she cares while still letting them know not to give her any grief.

My dad is a teacher; he teaches middle school English Language Arts at Torey Hope Middle School. His teaching salary was just never enough to raise his family, so he spent his summers painting houses to make extra money. Dad loved teaching, but
he also loved painting. He was always painting house exteriors or interiors or barns. It was like he couldn’t just sit around during his breaks and summer, he had to be busy. He continuously had little projects going on. My Uncle Dale, Dad’s brother, owned the local hobby shop and I think Dad pretty much kept him in business. Dad was constantly tinkering with the vehicles, plumbing, electricity, organizing the garage, etc. if he wasn’t painting someone’s silo or living room or house. If I wasn’t busy with school or sports I always joined Dad painting throughout the summers. It wasn’t hard, kept me somewhat in shape, and gave me a chance to hang with my dad (who, even though I was in high school and wouldn’t admit it, was pretty cool). I still help Dad paint if I’m not busy coaching or helping Uncle Dale at the hobby shop.

Anyway, my attitude about partying and drinking didn’t really change much when I got to college.  I decided to attend the local college in town so I could live at home; Mom turned our basement into the perfect bachelor pad.  She set it up just like a normal dorm room. They got a bunk bed so that Nicky could sleep over sometimes. Dad, years ago, had installed a little shower, sink, and toilet down in the basement during one of his winter projects, so Mom had him rig up a shower curtain hoop and she decorated the little bathroom in greens and blues. She went all out and even got me a shower caddy like all the college kids who were living in dorms. Mom had a heyday
decorating, I think she actually researched to find pictures of actual dorm rooms so that mine would look similar. I had a black/gray/white comforter, sheets, and pillows. She hung a mirror for me and a big cork board/white board. She got sports posters for me to hang on my walls. Dad rigged up internet and cable, and I set up my video game system down there. It was really a great set up. I was home with Nicky, but I could come and go as I pleased and had some privacy for homework and studying and the occasional date.

I got an academic scholarship to the local college so it was perfect.  I also got academic and sports scholarships to bigger, further away colleges, but it never felt right leaving Nicky.  My high school counselor had required all of us to take these little tests to tell us what career we should pursue. Mine said I should be a counselor, so that’s what I got a degree in. I never really planned to use the degree, but it made my parents happy that I got one. I was perfectly happy painting with my dad, coaching basketball and track, and helping my uncle at his hobby shop when he needed me.

I did get a lot more adventurous in college with the girls.  Girls weren’t lining up to date me, but I could always tell there were plenty interested.  I guess I’m not bad looking.  I know I’m not like one of the hunks in those romance novels ladies read (yeah, yeah....ok, so I’ve snuck a look at a page here and there in the ones Mom leaves laying around), but I’d say I’m averagely attractive.  I’m about 6’2” and I weigh about 200 lbs.  Since I’ve always played or coached sports, run track, or painted with my dad, I’m pretty fit.  I don’t have huge bulky muscles, but my 6-pack is decent and I’m not embarrassed to be in a sleeveless shirt or go without one.  I have what I’d call run-of-the-mill dirty blond hair that I keep fairly short letting it go just slightly longer in the front for that messy look.  My eyes are blue (not “piercing ice blue” like in those novels, sorry, just plain blue).  Nick is the spitting image of me, only slightly shorter and he weighs a little less.  He has always just seemed more fragile than me.

So, back to those girls in college.
  Once I was in college, the fights slowed down a bit more. Don’t get me wrong, I was always on the lookout for a shit-for-brains that might try hurting Nicky or one of his friends, and I hadn’t grown out of threatening people to keep them in line, but I wasn’t constantly sporting bruises anymore. So, I guess it made sense that I had more time for the girls. I didn’t head to college planning to lose my virginity, but I’d also not planned to keep it this long either.  In college, I still didn’t find my heart going pitter-patter over any girl (does that shit even happen in real life?!) but I definitely had fun with them. I remember my first time. Her name was Katie or Krissy or something like that. We had gone to a football game my freshman year. We headed back to her dorm but she told me to pull over first. After some hot and heavy making out in her daddy’s BMW we ended up in the backseat. Katie/Krissy promised no strings attached and I found out that burying myself in a pretty girl is a great way to get rid of stress and tension. After that first time, sex became my go to stress reliever. Kissing is great, and I love a girl’s body, but sex was never an emotional experience for me. I enjoyed it physically, but kept myself completely detached emotionally. I was always able to stay friends with the girls I hooked up with, with the exception of a few who got pissed that I didn’t want to be their boyfriend, but I was never emotionally invested in taking a relationship any further than a few romps in the sack. I always let the girls know this up front; it wasn’t like I was just using them, but I had no intention of going beyond something mutually satisfying for both of us. I enjoyed sex but it was just something I did to feel good, it wasn’t something I did to “share something” with another person. In a way, this bothered me because I grew up in a very loving home with parents who were obviously still very into each other; on the other hand, I think I was so used to being angry and pissed off and fighting that the detached feeling was fairly normal for me. Also, in retrospect, I think that I was fearful of letting any girl in; it would mean letting down my guard and I was much more comfortable with my walls up, in constant ready position to fight or defend my brother.

So, I graduated college with a degree in school counseling, but I had no desire to use it. I told my parents as much, and they seemed to understand and support me, even though I got the feeling that they thought I should have attempted a counseling job. I got a small apartment about five minutes from Mom and Dad and Nick.  I made sure it was a two-bedroom so Nicky could stay whenever he wanted. I had a little breakfast nook in my kitchen where I put a small table and chairs. I didn’t cook a lot beyond pizza, toast, cereal, and eggs so my small kitchen wasn’t much of a problem for me. Mom always complained that I didn’t have any space, but I never felt deprived. Dad and I had painted the kitchen a cream and green color combo and Mom had decorated it with pictures and knick-knacks of grasses and flowers. My kitchen also had a little technology nook so I set up my laptop and printer there, but I usually had my laptop with me in the living room. The living room wasn’t huge but it had room for a couch and love seat, an entertainment center for my TV and game system, and a coffee table that Mom insisted I needed. Mom had chosen the same tan and burnt orange color scheme from her house for my living room as well. The bathroom was small, a stool, shower, and sink, but it was enough for me; it’s not like I was
wanting to take bubble baths. Mom had Dad paint the bathroom blue and yellow and decorated it with white and yellow daisies. She was convinced if the rooms were decorated by a woman then a woman I brought home might be enticed to stay with me. Whatever. The two bedrooms were almost identical, but mine was slightly larger. I had asked Dad to help me paint my room my usual gray, but we added dark purple and dark teal accents with white mixed in occasionally. I fit a king size bed in there even though it meant I had very little room for anything else. I put my dresser in the closet. I loved a king sized bed. The spare room, which I had gotten specifically for Nicky, had a full sized bed. I let Nicky pick his colors. He wanted the same as his room at home, so blue with yellow and red it was. Nicky liked things to stay consistent. He didn’t always deal well with change. We kept a few changes of clothes and pajamas at my place, but mostly, he just brought an overnight bag if he was going to stay over.