this meant. It meant Simon wouldn’t do a lot of things for himself—nothing that was considered work. It meant that Rocco could now exist in his space and take care of him and fill the places Simon had left vacant until sunset tomorrow.
He hitched James up close to his chest, balancing the food in one hand, then ascended the stairs and went inside. It was dimly lit, the only light from the kitchen and from two candles burning on the table. Simon was on the sofa, and he was smiling at the sight of Rocco, though he didn’t get up.
‘You can turn the lights on if you want,’ Simon told him.
Rocco set James down who hurried over for some love, and his heart went soft as Simon picked up the dog and cuddled him close. ‘It’s romantic like this.’
He saw Simon laugh as Rocco eased down next to him and set the food on the table. ‘It isn’t supposed to be romantic. I always forget to turn enough lights on.’ Simon eased back, not in a hurry to eat—which was fine. Rocco wasn’t ready yet. He just wanted to bask in Simon’s presence for a while. ‘When Levi gets mad at me, he turns all the lights off.’
Rocco’s brow furrowed. ‘That’s cruel.’
Simon shrugged. ‘I think I deserve it. I was hard on him about not practicing.’
Shaking his head, Rocco turned more toward him. ‘Taking advantage of your…I don’t know what you call it. Dedication?’
‘Observance,’ Simon spelled.
Rocco nodded. ‘You can’t turn the lights back on. It’s cruel.’
Simon’s face fell a little, the lights in his eyes dimming. Rocco could tell he was approaching a line, if not crossing it. ‘Levi can be mean. I love him, but he will use what he knows hurts you most to lash out. He’s always been like that. He spent his whole life wanting to come first, wanting what I had—memories of our mother, the attention from our grandmother. I don’t think he knew what it cost me.’
Rocco watched Simon’s face as he signed, the way he half moved his lips around some words, the way he fumbled and spelled a lot, but made it so easy for Rocco to just understand him. ‘Did you ever tell him?’
Simon shook his head. ‘I didn’t want to ruin what he knew—what he thought he knew. My mother was not well, and she was not kind. She hated Levi because he looked like my dad, but she hated me more because I wasn’t enough to make the pain go away. She’d go out and get drunk, then spend hours telling me how terrible her life was here. I wanted to fix it for her—so badly. I wanted to make the pain stop, but I think she wanted to die miserable.’
Rocco reached over and cupped Simon’s cheek, brushing his thumb over cool skin. Simon turned his head and kissed Rocco’s fingers. ‘You deserved better.’
‘Levi and I both did. Bubbe didn’t know what to do with me, so she just—she fed me and comforted me. She tried to soothe my worries by sheltering me. That just made it worse. I felt normal in college for a little while but…’ Simon’s fingers hovered halfway through the sign, then dropped.
Rocco felt his heart twist. He wanted to shake Simon’s brother a little bit, force him to look beyond his own nose and his own heart to see what Simon had done for him. But a part of him also knew that Simon hadn’t done his part in giving Levi the opportunity to know what he was going through.
Being the baby of his family, Rocco had been sheltered from the worst of what life could throw. If his parents didn’t step in, then his brothers or sisters would. Simon was complicated and his past was so different than what Rocco had ever known.
‘Do you want to eat?’ Rocco asked.
Simon laughed, then eased James off him and sat up. ‘Yes. Can you unwrap it all?’
Rocco had no trouble doing that. In fact, he wanted to do more. He wanted to cup his hands around Simon and protect him from anything else that might dig in claws, and leave behind scars. He knew he couldn’t, not entirely, but he could still cushion the way down from every fall. If Simon would let him.
It wasn’t Simon’s first Shabbat with company. Bubbe had always made it fun—even with a reluctant Levi who even at such an early age had started to push at the confines of their