Page 82 of Pages of My Heart

With Charlie busy helping his mother, Thomas takes the opportunity to check in at Bridget and Eddie’s. His sister quickly puts him to good use fixing the back door hinge, and he happily works at it while he thinks about how much progress Charlie has made over the last few months. Thomas couldn’t be happier seeing his husband excited about work every morning. Charlie loves managing the garage, which doesn’t surprise Thomas at all—his husband is a great leader and has a quick mind.

The nightmares are becoming less frequent. Charlie sometimes goes two or even three weeks without one. There are still the visions and the attacks of anxiety, but they are happening less often too. Charlie tells him that loud sounds at the garage sometimes frighten him and that he’ll have to retreat into the office and close the door until the panic passes. But all things considered, Charlie is much happier and sounder, and nothing makes Thomas’s heart fuller than that.

But It’s a different story here at the O’Reilly family home, and that’s why Thomas visits more frequently these days. Eddiereturned home from the war in June. In a wheelchair. He lost both his legs in a grenade blast, amputated just above the knees. The man is in the depths of despair, drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. Thomas knows what he’s seeing because he witnessed it all with Charlie.

Eddie’s father has paid for a nurse to attend daily and teach Eddie how to move from his chair to the bed and to the toilet and so on, but Eddie is resisting. Just like Charlie did, Eddie drinks to numb the pain, to forget, to deny. Bridget is a resilient and practical woman, but Thomas can see that even she is unraveling at an alarming pace, losing her temper and her sanity along with it. Things are particularly volatile today.

Once he’s finished with the door, he packs away the tools and wanders into the sitting room. In his wheelchair by the front window, Eddie sits motionless, staring blankly outside. He’s been refusing to bathe, and the stench coming off him has become intolerable, worse even than Patty at his lowest. Schooling his features, Thomas squats down beside him, then gently places his hand on Eddie’s forearm. Eddie doesn’t react, his eyes remaining unfocused and vacant.

“Ed, how about I help you into the bathtub? Get you cleaned up. I bet you’ll feel better in some fresh clothes.”

Eddie listlessly turns his head, his eyes slowly focusing on Thomas. “There’s no fucking point,” he says, voice dull and lifeless.

Thomas is glad the kids are playing outside and don’t hear the profanity coming out of their father’s mouth. Eddie certainly never spoke this way in the house before he left for the war.

Thomas tries again. “There is a point. You have three wonderful children who just want to spend time with their father. And you have a beautiful wife who loves and needs you.”Justlike I needed Charlie,he almost adds, stopping himself just in time.

“What’s the problem?” Bridget enters the room carrying a basket of laundry. It’s clear she’s already irritated.

“There’s no problem,” Thomas replies, standing back up. “I was just seeing if Ed wanted me to help him into the tub.”

Bridget shakes her head, frowning. “That’s a job for the nurse. Why would you suggest such a thing?”

“Maybe he doesn’t like the nurse doing it . . . being a stranger and all. I helped Charlie when he first came home and couldn’t use his arm.”

“Excuse me?” The corners of Bridget’s mouth turn down. “You helped Charlie in the tub? That’s a job for a nurse or a mother. Or awife. Not a friend or roommate.”

It’s impossible to miss his sister’s accusatory tone, and Thomas feels himself getting defensive. “Yes, I helped Charlie into the bathtub. And getting dressed. His meals.Allof it. I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

Bridget puts the laundry basket down on the armchair and places her hands on her hips. “I think you know exactly what’s wrong with that. For the love of God, Tom, do you think people are blind? Or just stupid?”

Thomas glances down at Eddie and finds him staring out the window once again, seemingly unaware of the argument escalating around him. So, he lashes out. “If you’ve got something to say, Bridge, then just go ahead and say it.”

Bridget steps closer, until they are only a couple of feet apart. The volume of her voice drops, but it has a warning edge to it. “You’re making a huge mistake, Tom. You’re a headmaster. Respected in this community. What do you think will happen when you get caught? Will he be worth it when you’re rotting in prison? When your nieces and nephews find out you’rea—” Bridget closes her eyes, as if that will somehow protect her from the truth of it. “—a filthy sexual deviant?” She opens her eyes and stares Thomas down. “You’ll bring shame upon this whole family. Hasn’t Eddie suffered enough?”

The anger inside Thomas builds too fast, his body trembling in a futile attempt to contain it. The words coming out of his own sister’s mouth make him feel physically ill. Has she always known? Always felt this way?

“Yes! Yes, Charlie’s damn well worth it!” he yells, defiant. “He’s worth everything! Ilovehim.” He leans forward, looking his sister dead in the eye. His face burns hot with years of repressed feelings. “And yes, I love himbodyand soul.”

Bridget jerks away, mouth twisting into a disgusted grimace. All it does is fuel Thomas’s rage. He erupts into laughter, fake and sarcastic, and then stops just as quickly. He must look crazy. Unhinged.

He steps past her, as if to leave, but then pauses and whispers harshly near her ear, “Whatever filthy, deviant things you think we do,we do. Things you could never even imagine. And I’m not ashamed. The only person who should be ashamed here is you.”

Thomas continues his march to the front door, grabbing his hat off the coat stand and slamming the door on his way out. As he hurries down the front steps, hands shaking and blood rushing in his ears, he wonders if he’ll ever set foot in that house again.

Charlie

Charlie isn’t sure what exactly it is about today, but when he walks into the kitchen and looks at Thomas, he just knows it’s time to put the past behind them and do something for their future. It’s been a year since he was shot. A year and three days to be exact. Everyone says the war will end any time now, what with Hitler dead and Germany’s surrender in May. And it can’t come soon enough. Only last week they got word that Benny from the garage met his end in a P-47 the Japs shot down over the Pacific. Charlie cannot bear to hear of one more death.

“Sweetheart . . .” He steps in behind Thomas and wraps his arms around his waist. “I think I’m ready to buy that house.”

Thomas stills, a sandwich half made in front of him and butter knife suspended in the air. He slowly puts the knife down and turns, then wraps his arms around Charlie’s neck. “Truly?”

“Yes, truly. We always planned to, and you’ve been more than patient waitin’ on me to get it together.” Thomas clucks at that, but there’s also hesitation in his eyes that Charlie doesn’t understand. “What is it?” he asks.

Thomas drops his arms and leans back against the kitchen counter. “Ever since Bridget said those things about me. About us. I’m just not sure I want to stay in Chicago anymore. And we both went through hell here—me waiting for you to return, and then what you went through once you made it home. I don’t know . . . I just think maybe we need a fresh start.”

“C’mon, let’s sit down and talk.” Charlie takes Thomas’s hand and leads him into the sitting room. “I ain’t against moving outta the city,” he explains. “Ma would be okay with Donnie still around to look out for her, but I’m not sure I could leave Evie and Jonathan here on their own. And I know you’re madat Bridget right now—and rightly so!” he’s quick to add when Thomas shoots him a look. “But what about Michael? And Maggie?”