At about four in the afternoon, Kevin gets a message from Gabe.
have you talked to zoe in the last two days?
Frowning, Kevin types a reply.
no. why?
b/c she’s a wreck and she won’t talk to me. she keeps saying she’s fine, but she’s lying. something happened, but I have no idea what, b/c she won’t TALK to me.
With a heavy sigh, Kevin runs a hand through his hair. He hasn’t been to the HCC since his grandfather passed away, and between the funeral and the will reading and moving out of his aunt’s, he hasn’t seen Zoe in almost a week. And while he knows those are all valid reasons, he can’t help but feel guilty now, for not at least checking in. Maybe if he was still showing up, he’d know what was going on with her.
But then again, maybe not. If she isn’t even talking to Gabe . . .
she might just need some space, babe, Kevin tries to argue then, but the comment earns the expected response.
no, she needs to talk about what’s bothering her so someone can fix it.
Kevin has to bite his tongue at that, and he’s glad they’re not talking in person because he wouldn’t be able to hide it. Gabe is wonderful, but Gabe is a fixer, especially when it comes to Zoe. Kevin knows that someone in that text means I, but Gabe can’t seem to acknowledge that some things don’t have an easy fix. Kevin wishes he knew how to bring that up, but their relationship is so new and Kevin needs it so desperately, he’s afraid to do anything that might end it. He’ll fight that battle another day.
He thinks about texting Zoe, but any message he could send would make it clear that he and Gabe were discussing her, which Kevin knows she hates. So he decides to swing by the HCC tomorrow some point, if only for a few minutes, to see if she’s there, to give her a shoulder and an ear if she needs them. If she won’t even talk to Gabe about whatever happened . . . well, he can’t imagine it isn’t dad-related. He wishes he’d thought to get Lissa’s number at some point.
Gabe is supposed to come over that night, and Kevin imagines they will talk about all this in more detail then. He’s gearing up for the conversation when the doorbell rings an hour early. He sighs and steels himself, because if Gabe is showing up an hour early, he must be even more worked up than he seemed on the phone.
“Didn’t we say six?” he starts to say as he opens the door, but the words are cut off because it’s not Gabe standing on the front porch, it’s Zoe. Her face is red, her eyes are wet, and she is, as Gabe said, a wreck. “Zoe,” he says, needlessly, but before he can come up with anything more intelligent than that to say, she interrupts in a voice trying so hard not to waver.
“No, I’m not okay. No, I don’t want to talk about it. No, I don’t want you to let anyone know I’m here. I just want to sit on the couch and watch shitty TV with someone who isn’t going to ask me what’s wrong or try to fix it.”
He holds her gaze for a moment, then steps aside. “My shitty TV is your shitty TV,” is all he says, but when he has shut the door behind her, he asks, “Would a hug help?” And when she nods, he wraps his arms tight around her and lets her cling to him for a few moments. He’s tall enough to rest his chin on her head, and he can feel her trembling, or maybe shuddering. He’s not sure.
He knows if Gabe was here, he’d be demanding answers, and he knows that if Gabe knew Zoe was here, he’d be demanding that Kevin demand some answers, but she’s made it clear that she doesn’t want to talk about it, so he isn’t going to make her talk about it. As she makes her way to the living room. Kevin heads for the freezer, grabbing two pints of his grandfather’s “fix-all.”
“So, I’ve got Chocolate Therapy and Chunky Monkey. Take your pick. I know Ben and Jerry’s is typically the balm for a broken heart, but I’ve found it really heals most wounds.” She almost laughs.
“Chocolate Therapy,” she says, holding out her hand.
“How did I know?” he asks, handing her the ice cream and a spoon and flumps onto the sofa next to her. “You and your sweet tooth. It’s a good thing you’re here, actually. Otherwise, with Gramps gone, it would have just sat there forever.”
“Gabe would have taken it eventually,” she says. He smiles.
“Yeah, maybe,” he says, then searches for the remote. “So, do you want shitty TV or just mindless TV? Because I can find you some cop reality show or, like, Toddlers in Tiaras, but I also think I have some competitive cooking shows TiVo’d.”
“The world of competitive cooking sounds good.”
“Chopped it is.” He takes a moment to bring the show up and start a random episode while Zoe eats ice cream beside him. After a bit of silence, he says, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much this week.”
“Oh, God, Kev,” Zoe says with a shake of her head, quickly swallowing her ice cream so she can respond. “Don’t you dare feel guilty about not being around for my trivial shit with all the substantial things you’ve been dealing with.”
Kevin shakes his head and swallows his own ice cream. “I may not know what’s bothering you, but I do know it’s not trivial. I don’t deny having shit of my own to deal with, but I can multi-task. I’m not going to make you talk about anything, okay? But if talking will help, I’m all ears.”
Zoe keeps her focus entirely on the television, but eventually she says, “I’m sure talking would help. But I’m also 119% sure that I can’t get through the story, and I—” She falters for a moment, before taking a deep breath and pushing through. “I’d rather not break down again. I’ve done enough of that today.”
So he doesn’t ask. He just reaches out and pulls her against his side, resting an arm around her shoulders. She curls up next to him, and they watch the cooking show in silence for a while. “Papaya, shiitake mushrooms, flounder, and cheese whiz,” he comments at one point. “What would you even make with that?”
“A mess,” Zoe quips, making Kevin laugh.
They sit in silence for a little longer, then Kevin says softly, “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but . . . is it about your dad?”
It takes her a second, but eventually she takes a deep breath and nods, her focus still stubbornly forward. That’s all he needs. He holds his pint of ice cream out to her, saying, “To the world’s worst biological fathers.” Almost smiling, Zoe knocks her pint of ice cream against his.
“Cheers.”
They lapse into silence again, and after another moment, he eases his phone out and, one handed, sends a text to Gabe. change of plans. friend in crisis. rain check?
Within fifteen seconds, his phone is ringing. “Sorry,” he mouths to Zoe, who waves him off. Kevin doesn’t need to look at the screen to know who it is, and for Zoe’s sake, he heads to the kitchen to answer.
“Hey–”
“Is it Zoe?”
“I really couldn’t say,” he says carefully, aware of Zoe listening in the next room. But Gabe isn’t having any of it.
“Cut the crap, Kevin. Her mom just called me, asking if I knew where she was, and I lied and said she was with me. Is it Zoe?”
Giving up the pretense, Kevin says, “Yes.”
“I’m coming over.”
“No,” he says immediately. Gabe is not put off, however.
“Is Zoe there?”
“Yes.”
“Is she upset?”
“Yes.”
“Is she talking about it?”
Kevin sighs, and rubs a hand over his face. “No,” he hates admitting.
“Then I’m coming over.”
“I just, I don’t know that that’s the best idea–”
“Tough.”
And then the line goes dead. Fighting down a surge of irritation at the fact that Gabe just hung up on him, Kevin puts a smile on his face and goes back to the living room.
“Gabe?” Zoe asks without looking up from the television, and he hesitates a moment before officially giving up any and all pretense.
“Yeah,” he says heavily, sitting next to her again. “Sorry. I swear, I didn’t tell him you were here, but . . .”
She’s already shaking her head. “It’s fine. I’m surprised it took him this long to find me, actually.”
Kevin arches an eyebrow. “You’ve been here twenty minutes.” Zoe gives that almost-smile again.
“Exactly.” Then she grows serious, and he can see her chewing on the inside of her lip. “He’s on his way over?” she asks then, and Kevin has to tell her yes. She takes a deep breath, clearly steeling herself, and it sends a new wave of irritation through him toward Gabe, because this is exactly what she didn’t want to have to deal with on top of everything else. Whatever the everything else is.
“Zo,” Kevin says. “Don’t worry about him when he gets here, okay? I promised you wouldn’t have to talk about anything, and you don’t, whatever he might have to say about it. I’ll kick Gabriel out of the house if I have to or, I don’t know, sit on him.” She laughs, a tiny breath of a laugh, but still a laugh. He squeezes her hand and they go back to watching the cooking show in silence.
When Gabe arrives about ten minutes later, he tries to just breeze through the front door, but Kevin locked it behind Zoe out of habit, so Gabe has to resort to knocking. Kevin squeezes Zoe’s hand one more time, then goes to answer. He opens the door just wide enough to slip out onto the porch, then he closes it behind him.
Gabe stares at him. “What, are you not letting me in?” he asks, incredulous. Kevin takes a deep breath.
“No,” he says. Gabe’s look turns murderous.
“Kevin—”
“When Zoe came here, she asked for one thing, okay? One thing. She asked to sit on the couch and be miserable without anyone trying to fix it. You can’t come in unless you can promise to respect that.” If looks could kill, he’d have been dead on the spot. But Kevin stands his ground. “I’m serious. You can get right back in your car if you’re going to pester her.”
Gabe’s whole stance is one of incredulity. His eyebrows have raised so high, they’re causing deep folds in his forehead, but Kevin will not be made to feel in the wrong. “Really,” Gabe says in just about the most dangerous voice Kevin has ever heard.
“Yes,” Kevin replies, his voice as steely as Gabe’s own. Gabe may be more solidly built, but Kevin is just as tall, and he stares Gabe down.
“I can get ‘right back in–’”
“I’m not fucking around with you, okay? You can’t intimidate me, I am not some random douchebag on the street trying to hurt her, I am trying to do what is best by Zoe, and right now, that means listening to her. So yes. Really. You can get in your car and leave if you decide that your need to know what’s going on is more important than her need to not talk about it right now.”
“Do you have any idea what it’s about?” he asks then. Kevin crosses his arms and debates his answer, since he knows the effect the truth will have. But he decides it will be worse if he lies and Gabe finds out.
“It’s about her dad,” he says finally. “That’s all I know.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” he demands.
“Of course it bothers me,” Kevin snaps. “But I don’t think forcing Zoe to have a conversation she’s not ready for is the answer!” Gabe opens his mouth to argue, but Kevin cuts him off, putting his foot down. “My house, my rules. And you cannot come in unless you can follow them.”
There is a long moment where they face off across the porch, and it doesn’t seem like Gabe is going to be backing down any time soon. So with a sigh of disgust and a roll of his eyes, Kevin turns to go back into the house. He’s not willing to leave Zoe inside alone any longer, and as far as he’s concerned, Gabe can rot on the porch like the stubborn ass he is.
But Kevin’s return to the house seems to be the trigger Gabe needs. “Okay!” he says, stilling Kevin’s hand on the knob. “Okay. I promise, okay?” Kevin looks back over his shoulder for a long moment, then pushes the door open and steps back, gesturing Gabe inside.
He uses the act of shutting the door to try and steady his shaking hands. That . . . that was something else. Kevin is a laid-back guy, easy-going, and he doesn’t like confrontation. He especially doesn’t like confrontation with people he cares about. He can stand his ground when he needs to, but he hates needing to. Unfortunately, if he knows Gabe at all, Gabe isn’t going to be able to just shut off his protective instinct because of a promise made on a porch.
He’s right. Over the next half hour, Gabe tries to ask Zoe what’s wrong or how he can help no less than six times. Each time, Kevin speaks over him loudly and obnoxiously, a move which earns him a fierce glare from Gabe (which he returns with equal intensity) and a half-hidden smile from Zoe (which makes it worth it, that she is at least being amused by their ridiculousness). Finally he’s fed up enough with Gabe that after a loud, “Wow, douchey pretentious chef won! I didn’t see that coming!” he sends him a text.
dude if you think i won’t kick you out of this house you’re v. v. wrong
“Kevin,” Gabe actually growls in response, breaking the pretense they’ve had in place of hiding their silent feud from Zoe (though she certainly hasn’t missed it).
He’s opened his mouth to reply, to ask Gabe to step into another room, when Zoe interrupts with a hand on his arm. “Kevin, I’d like a glass of water, if it’s okay.”
He shifts his focus to her. “You sure?” he says, asking about more than just the water. From the look in her eyes, she gets it.
“Yeah,” she says softly, so he squeezes her shoulder and heads for the kitchen. He’s not trying to eavesdrop, but the house is old and the walls are thin and even banging around getting a cup doesn’t do much to drown out their conversation.
Gabe starts up again as soon as Kevin’s gone from the room, but Zoe interrupts him with a tense, “Please, Gabe, I swear, I will tell you everything, but I can’t right now. I can’t relive it again today. I can’t. Okay?”
There is a long silence, but finally, Gabe says, “Okay,” and Kevin lets out a sigh of relief. Then Gabe asks, “Have you told someone, though? Does Alex know?” And Kevin could cheer. He doesn’t, of course, because he’s not eavesdropping, but he could. Gabe’s told him about the fight he and Zoe had in December, so he knows what a monumental thing Gabe just asked. And Zoe knows it, too, of course.
“He will, as soon as I can finish the letter I started this afternoon. And — thank you. For that.”
Kevin hears Gabe shift on the couch, and when he speaks, he sounds a bit self-conscious. “A guy can change,” he says.
“Prove it,” is the next thing Zoe says, which is not where Kevin was expecting her to go. It catches Gabe off guard, too.
“Prove what—”
“Stop glaring daggers at Kevin.” Kevin ducks his head to smile at that and shakes his head, because of course she’s taking time to defend him.
“I’m not, I’m–”
“Gabe.” He really does have to admire how the girl can shut someone down with a single word. “I mean it. He’s doing what I asked him to do. Don’t punish him for that.”
There’s a long silence in which Gabe doesn’t respond, and the lack of response is enough to send Kevin back into the room with Zoe’s water because there are some things that are going to be hard enough to hear face to face tonight, he has a feeling. He’d rather not overhear them and have to pretend he didn’t for however much longer Zoe is here.
Around 10:30, Zoe says, “I should probably head home.”
“Probably,” Gabe agrees softly.
“I don’t want to go home,” she admits then. “I’m getting yelled at when I get home.”
Kevin picks up her hand and holds it. “A word of advice from my Gramps? Arguments go better if you go into them willing to admit the ways you were wrong.”
Clearly fighting back tears again, Zoe nods, then says, “Thanks for letting me hole up here.”
“Literally any time,” he tells her, deliberately echoing her words from the HCC so long ago. She manages a smile at that, and they both scoot to the edge of the couch so he can hug her properly. “You’re gonna be okay,” he says into her hair. “I promise.”
He takes dishes into the kitchen while she says her goodbyes to Gabe. He washes them out now instead of leaving them til tomorrow because he needs something to do. When the front door clicks shut, it brings with it a wave of panic because he knows what’s coming next. Being with Gabe was nice while it lasted, he thinks, steeling himself as best he can.
“Arguments go better if you go into them willing to admit the ways you were wrong?” Gabe says softly from behind him, and Kevin takes a deep breath, shuts off the water, and turns.
“I’m not apologizing,” he says straight off. He could, he knows. He could salvage this probably, if he claimed to be wrong, but he won’t. He can’t. Not on this. “Look, I know how you feel about Zoe and about Zoe being upset, but you can’t fix everything, Gabe, and sometimes trying to makes it worse, and she just needed to be upset, she asked for that and I gave it to her, and I’d do it all again exactly the same, so I won’t apologize to you, and if that means you and I are done, then I guess that’s what it means.”
It all comes out in a rush, which catches him slightly off guard. Usually he’s more composed than that, but not on this, apparently. And then he holds his breath, waiting for Gabe’s reaction.
“Is . . . that what you want?” Gabe finally asks.
Kevin’s “No,” is sharp and immediate.
They lock eyes for a moment, and then Gabe smiles. “Good,” he says softly. “Because that’s not what I want, either.” Kevin’s relief at those words is palpable, and he sags against the counter as all his nervous adrenaline flows out of him.
“Good,” he echoes.
“Partly because I think Zoe might kill me if I break up with you over this.”
“I hope that’s not the only reason,” Kevin says with one raised eyebrow. Gabe gives the tiniest hint of laughter.
“It’s not,” he says, making eye contact, and Kevin feels like he can breathe again, but the air isn’t quite clear enough for him to close the distance yet.
“You mad at me?” he asks then, running a nervous hand through his hair. Gabe hesitates for a second, but eventually, he does shake his head.
“No,” he says. “How can I be mad at you for doing what’s best by Zoe?” Kevin smiles, and then Gabe asks, “Are you mad at me?”
“Mildly irritated,” he says after a moment’s consideration, “at your tendency to turn into a steamroller when Zoe’s well being is concerned.” Gabe grimaces and looks away, prompting Kevin to finally close the distance. “But,” he says softly, laying a hand on Gabe’s arm, “I’m willing to forgive it. That protectiveness is, after all, one of the things I find attractive about you.” Gabe smiles his gratitude, then leans forward and kisses him, and Kevin lets himself sink into it for a moment. Then he rests his forehead against Gabe’s and whispers, “She’s going to be fine, you know.” Gabe looks away, pained, and scoffs a bit. “Hey,” Kevin says, a gentle hand on Gabe’s face to redirect his gaze. “She is. She’s got friends like you. How could she not be?”
With another grateful smile, Gabe pulls him close again. “She’s got friends like you, too,” he says gruffly, and Kevin presses a kiss to his temple in reply. His gaze drifts toward the front window, his thoughts on Zoe, hoping she really will be all right.