A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,3

while he worked at Flying High, an adventure sports shop, when he got the phone call that would forever give him nightmares. One minute Emerson’s parents were there, and then they were just…gone. The semi that collided with their car on the freeway took the trucker’s life as well, and the authorities suspected he might’ve fallen asleep at the wheel.

The way Emerson had sounded, like he was numb and horrified all at once, was something he wouldn’t soon forget. He’d dropped everything to be with the Rose family, hanging out with the kids while Emerson and his aunt made the funeral arrangements and Rhys’s mom cooked their meals with plenty of leftovers.

The first month, Rhys had slept in Emerson’s bed some nights, either watching over him or holding him while he sobbed into his shoulder, getting snot all over him, but Rhys didn’t care; his heart was broken too. Sometimes the kids would wander in to climb beneath the covers, some variation of scared and sad and confused, or he’d volunteer to sleep in a chair in Sam’s or Audrey’s rooms.

The summer went by in a blur before blending into the next two seasons. There was no question in Emerson’s mind that he would raise his siblings and keep them not only in their routines, but also in their childhood home, so he promptly withdrew from college and got a job in the billing department of a hospital, most likely assuming it was a decent compromise of his goals. And whereas Emerson was pretty adamant on that front, he was in a numb fog in all the others. He usually appeared to be going through the motions, while his aunt Janice helped with getting his parents’ assets organized and everything else that went along with losing someone unexpectedly. She had a family of her own but still came every weekend to assist with going through their things and making piles for donations that Rhys helped drive to a local charity.

Once it was all sorted, the parents’ master bedroom, which was located on the first level, had remained closed, left like a snapshot in time. They even avoided using the attached bathroom. It was Rhys’s idea to get the kids excited about sleeping in their own rooms again with new coats of paint, bedspreads, and stuffed toys, and it had worked for the most part.

Because that was what friends did. Even friends who were beginning to drift in different directions. Emerson had a girlfriend named Morgan junior year of high school, and was more of a homebody, whereas Rhys had explored his sexuality by hooking up here and there, keeping his main focus on some traveling as well as nature outings with friends. He’d even begun to add new ink to his sleeve of tattoos of cool places he’d visited. But he knew they’d always be connected by history, and even more so after this absolute tragedy.

As Emerson joined in, singing a second verse of the traditional happy birthday song, Sam rolled his eyes—the kid was as serious-minded as his brother—and Rhys basked in Emerson’s dazzling smile across the table because he hadn’t seen it showcased much lately. Though his grief hadn’t made him any less handsome or admirable. Fuck, the guy was brave and strong and…well, gorgeous. No one could blame Rhys for noticing every now and again. He was a warm-blooded gay man after all.

Ever since his confession at the pool that one summer as his heart had throbbed in his chest, he’d thought about how Emerson looked in the moment. Surprise and hesitation had lined his forehead, but also curiosity and openness, at least that was how it had seemed to him at the time. Rhys had been all in with the kiss until he thought about how the outcome might ruin them—and him. And since they hadn’t brought up his confession or the almost meeting of lips since, he was thankful that Emerson didn’t seem to miss a beat and accepted him unconditionally.

Once they ate the banana cream pie—in lieu of cake since Sam was not a fan—they moved on to gifts. When Sam seemed pleased with the microscope and books on scientific methods he’d requested, Emerson’s shoulders finally began unwinding, his forehead smoothing out. No doubt, the worry about making Sam’s birthday a decent celebration after such a tragedy had been clawing at his insides.

Fuck, this year had been awful, and Emerson had changed into a man with the heaviness of the world on his shoulders.