I've Got This Brother

I’ve Got This Brother

Marilyn DeMars

Copyright © Marilyn DeMars.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

ISBN: 987-1-64713-426-6 (Paperback Edition)

ISBN: 978-1-64713-460-0 (Hardcover Edition)

ISBN: 978-1-64713-425-9 (E-book Edition)

Some characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Book Ordering Information

Phone Number: 347-901-4929 or 347-901-4920

Email: info@globalsummithouse.com

Global Summit House

www.globalsummithouse.com

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Dedication

For my brother Ronny. A brother beyond all brothers,

long passed into the afterlife. I miss you dearly.

Acknowledgement

Thanks, Dick, for putting your head and your heart

together with mine on this project.

1

Tracy stood looking at the diamond ring Mark had moments ago slipped onto her finger. She couldn’t feel happy about his proposal. Something threatened it. There was an enduring problem in her life that she’d never told him about, but was going to have to now despite the probable outcome.

Outside of Martino’s Restaurant, where they’d just had dinner, it was late, cold and snowing. The streets of New York City were abnormally quiet.

Your non answer is beginning to sound like a no, Mark eventually said.

Tracy lifted her eyes to meet with his. This man, who looked so remarkably like Kevin Costner, and generally possessed the same charming manner as did the actor, was now sadly broken.

I haven’t said anything yet, she told him.

Exactly.

It’s complicated.

Yes or no, how complicated is that?

Because you don’t understand.

Want to give me a try?

The wind rippled Tracy’s dark hair trailing out from beneath her knit cap and sent icy chills down her neck. She turned up her coat collar. Sure, yes, we need to talk, Mark. But not here. I’m freezing. Let’s go home.

Your place or mine?

Mine is closer.

Right. Mark started in that direction.

Pulling on her gloves as she walked, Tracy had to work hard at keeping up with him. Hey, come on, I can’t walk this fast. Mark.

He was taking this hard and she didn’t blame him. She’d wrecked his proposal, possibly their whole relationship.

They stopped at the red traffic light on the corner. The wind seemed to be coming from all directions, wildly swirling the falling snow. Cars moved slowly in the thickening accumulation.

Tracy… Mark began like the beginning of a difficult sentence.

The light changed to green and she started ahead of him into the intersection.

Now it was he who had to work at keeping up with her. He took her hand and matched his stride to hers. You’re scaring me here, you know that? You’re really scaring me.

I know. I’m sorry. I’m scared too.

The ring, if you don’t like it we can get you a different one.

"The ring is fine. I love the ring. This isn’t about the ring."

She looked at Mark. He looked at her and hunched his shoulders up about his neck.

They walked fast against the wind. The Howell Hotel, where Tracy stayed when making her periodic visits to town as the hotel chain’s traveling field manager, was three blocks from Martino’s. The weather was decent when they’d started out from Mark’s apartment earlier that evening, which was five blocks the other way from Martino’s, but leaving the restaurant they found it colder and snowing.

When they got to the hotel they burst inside, brushing off their coats and stomping their feet.

The desk clerk welcomed them. Good evening, Ms. Lawton, Mr. Rydell.

Both returned the man’s familiar greeting as they crossed the posh lobby to the elevators. Tracy pulled off her cap, sending more carried-in snow flitting and dissolving into the warm air. Mark pressed the service button. They rode to ninth floor in silence.

When they entered her room, she switched on a light, stepped out of her wet shoes, drew the drapes shut, and turned on a second light.

Mark closed the door, saying, I’m sorry about proposing to you on a cold street corner.

Tracy stopped doing things. Sorry?

Not for proposing, he said, for the location of it. I’d been trying to find the right moment all evening through dinner only there never seemed to be one

Your timing was nice. I loved being proposed to in the snow.

Really? Huh, I didn’t get that.

"It was my timing that was bad, not yours." Tracy took off her coat and laid it over the desk chair. Mark did the same with his jacket. She had a beautiful room. A large sitting area as you came in, done in mauves and greens, and a cozy bedroom area just beyond. The Howell Hotel always put her up well.

Mark was wearing that wonderful heather-gray sweater of his. How Tracy loved that sweater on him. She wanted to snuggle against him right now and pretend everything was perfect. But instead, she took off his ring and gave it back to him.

He stared at the symbol of undying love in his open hand. "Well, I’d say this is a definite no."

We need to back up a little, she said as hopefully as she could.

Yeah, something like that. Mark shoved the ring into his pants pocket, like one more coin to his loose change, then sat down on the couch.

Tracy sat beside him, tucking her cold, stocking feet beneath her.

Don’t tell me you didn’t see the marriage bit coming, he said, as if he’d figured out where she was coming from but hoped it wasn’t true.

No. I mean yes, just not tonight.

Come on, Tracy, he spoke with higher expectations, you live in Minnesota, I live in New York. The only time we see each other is when you’re here on business. And then it’s back and forth between my apartment and your hotel room. Don’t you want more than that for us? I do. I want a life, a real life for us.

A real life, she tested the sound of it.

They weren’t kids. Tracy was thirty-four, Mark thirty-eight. They had a good relationship. Happy. Solid. Honest, except for what she’d been keeping from him. I love you, Mark, she said.

But? he asked.

She should have told him about this problem of hers long before now. But their relationship had started off with such sweet simplicity six months ago that never, at any point since, had she wanted to risk hampering it. Tonight, with his proposal, risk gave way to necessity.

She thought about how they’d met. In Central Park. She’d been walking and he’d been sitting on a bench writing on a yellow legal pad. Just as she approached he ripped off the top page, scrunched it in frustration, and tossed it aimlessly. The yellow ball landed directly in her path. She stopped, picked it up, opened it, and read the entirety of it aloud. Chapter one, page one. Then added wryly, Ahhh...a writer.

This guy, who looked so amazingly like Kevin Costner, gave her a cute Costner sort of grin as he took the wrinkled paper she handed him.

Nice beginning, she teased about the diminutive piece of work. Stick with it and maybe it’ll grown into something.

His blue eyes held with her brown ones as he stood up, saying, My last book grew into something.

Last book? She felt pretty stupid.

He nodded, doing that winsome grin of his again. Street Winder. On the best-seller list a while back."

She knew her face was red. Published. Best-seller. Wow. I’m sorry.

For my success?

No, for my not knowing.

That’s okay. Sorry my paper landed in your way.

There’s a fine for littering, you know.

He pretended to be worried. You’re not a cop, are you?

No. She laughed.

Good. He laughed too.

Tracy usually didn’t go around striking up conversations with strangers, but she’d fallen head over heels into this one. I’m a field manager for Howell Hotels, she said. New York City is just one of the locations I travel to.

Field manager? he questioned.

I check up on things, make periodic managerial reports to take back to Howard Howell in Minnesota, owner of nine Howell Hotels.

Sounds like you’re a busy person, yet here you are strolling in the park.

And you’re a writer, yet here you are hanging out on a park bench.

Somewhere amidst their exchange of easy smiles and eminent interest in one another, he asked her to go have coffee with him and she went. Thus their relationship had begun. Fast, effortlessly, out of the blue. After she’d left New York to go back home, they’d kept up with one another by way of long distance phone calls, letters and a second get together when her job brought her back in the fall.

Two days ago, amidst winter’s fiercest month of January, Tracy’s work once again returned her to the Big Apple and to Mark and to the exciting affirmation of just how much they’d come to mean to one another. Everything was enjoyable and perfect. Until the proposal. Which made her face the fact that she could no longer put off telling him about...

What? Mark urged from his waiting. You going to tell me, or what?

Tracy fingered the sleeve of his sweater and took a deep breath.

What? he asked again, as if he were already sure he wasn’t going to like it.

Mark, there’s something about my life I haven’t told you yet.

I’m listening.

It could make a big difference as to whether we can have any future together.

Sounds serious.

She gave a serious nod.

Go ahead, he said bravely, I can take it.

Mark, I...I’ve got this brother.

2

My brother, Evan, he lives with me, Tracy told Mark in the tone of a confession.

He was relieved, as though he’d been expecting something far worse. So you never told me you had a brother, I won’t hold that against you.

Not just any brother. Evan is different.

Mark cocked an eyebrow. Different?

He doesn’t go out.

Out. You mean on dates?

Out. Of the house. Ever. There, it hadn’t been easy but she’d said it.

Mark got up from the couch and walked around the room, trying to absorb what he’d heard. A homebody. A quiet one. Nothing wrong with that. I’m kind of like that myself. How old is he?

Twenty-six. Evan hasn’t been out of the house in five years. He has agoraphobia, a fear of open places, of leaving the house.

Mark stopped pacing, and Tracy stood up before him, concluding. Guess you don’t love me so much now, huh?

His mouth dropped. A writer with no words.

You probably never heard of anything like this, right? she gathered. And don’t like hearing of it now. And for sure don’t want to get mixed up with someone who has this sort of problem in her family, right?

When Mark got around to speaking for himself, he was direct but calm. Tracy, I’m sorry about your brother. I wish you’d have told me about him sooner. I can’t believe that you didn’t.

I know, she said, sheepishly. I should have. I’m sorry. And I’m giving you this chance now to back out if you want to.

Mark’s eyes widened. You think I’d retract my feelings for you because of your brother?

She wrung her hands together. Well, you did say you wished I’d told you about him sooner.

He held his head and moaned. Because I love you, Tracy, and want to share everything that’s going on with you, that’s all.

Mark obviously wanted this to be simple and was trying to make it be, but Evan had never been a simple matter to Tracy. She bit her bottom lip and continued fidgeting with her hands.

Come on, Mark said, did you really think your telling me about your brother would change things for us?

She went over to the window, held the drapes aside, and gazed out at the still-falling snow that was softly illuminating the dark. The wind had died down and the world outside stood beautifully serene.

Mark was soon beside her. How could you think that?

Turning to him, Tracy meekly asked, You’re not put off by it? Trying not to be swayed by Mark’s trust-me look, she added, Because my brother’s problem, agoraphobia, it’s pretty strange.

Mark wrapped his arms around her. I’m not put off. Hey…he’s your brother.

Suddenly Tracy’s world simplified in her closeness to him. I’m sorry for doubting you. It’s just that all the other men I knew had attitude problems with this.

All? he asked, with his face nestled against her hair. How many is all?

An occasional boyfriend here and there, until they found out about Evan’s problem. Then they were gone.

Mark loosened his hold of her and leaned back to see her face. Guys left you because of your brother?

They, uh...well, Evan was like this obstacle they just couldn’t get past.

Mark’s surprise turned to adornment. So who needed them, huh? You deserve better, some nice guy like me.

Though Tracy smiled, she was not entirely free of skepticism. My having a brother like Evan doesn’t make you think that I, too, could be a little strange? Or that our children could turn out to be?

Children? Mark’s face took on a glow. Is this a yes to my proposal?

Tracy stopped his hand from going into his pocket for the ring. Not yet. We have to resolve this problem first.

Evan, Mark verified. Okay, so what does his doctor say about his situation? I would think he’d need some counseling. Maybe some medication. Maybe he—

Evan refuses to see a doctor, and I’ve given up trying to persuade him. Anyway, other than his agoraphobia Evan’s not actually sick. He feels great and is amazingly acceptant of the way his life has become.

Acceptant? Mark shook his head. I can’t buy that. How can he be? That’s not normal.

Evan’s normal, Tracy insisted, he just doesn’t—

Leave the house, right, Mark affirmed.

He’s content with that.

He needs help.

Okay, here it was, the snag. Mark was already thinking he knew more about her brother and what to do about him than she did. It swayed her, since her initial fear had been that he’d be put off by Evan’s problem and might only want to steer clear of it. Now, and not all that better, he was going the opposite way of evaluating, advising, seeking solution. It wasn’t what she wanted or needed, from him or anybody.

She walked across the room, rubbing the tension in her forehead. This didn’t make sense. Here was a guy showing more compassion than disgust for Evan’s problem, and that ironically bothered her just as much.

She turned at the desk and looked back at him. I’ve been dealing with this for a long time now, Mark.

Yeah, he said, so I’m finding out.

I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t.

Mark stood there listening, not yet seeing the problem.

Evan is happy and content, she continued. I don’t want advice or criticism on that. What I need from you is for you to accept my brother’s state of being. And I’m hoping that when you meet him you’ll be able to do that.

But he’s in Minnesota, right? Mark hitched his chin in the direction of the Midwest.

Yes. At our old family home in Drendal, where Evan and I grew up.

With his agoraphobia he’s okay when you go off and leave him like this?

Yes.

Mark rolled his hand in the air. But if he has—

It’s okay, he’s capable, Tracy said.

Of? Mark pushed.

Everything.

Except leaving the house, he affirmed.

Sometimes, like now, Tracy felt as if she were more afflicted by Evan’s phobia than he himself was. Times when she had to explain, justify, endure his phobia. Times when she felt guilty for managing poorly, and strangely enough also for times when she’d managed well. He does fine by himself. I do feel a little guilty for leaving him, but he does fine.

So you’re supporting him, right? I mean, financially as well as emotionally.

Yes. Of course.

And you really feel this is helping him? Though Mark’s voice was soft, it had a critical undertone.

Tracy crossed her arms and gave a nod.

Mark studied her. I don’t know, Tracy, I don’t know.

Don’t know what? she asked.

If you’re doing right by him.

She resented Mark’s doubt toward what she was doing and had done for so long. I’m looking out for him, that’s what I’m doing.

Maybe too much, Mark suggested.

"So what would you do if it were your brother?"

Mark didn’t need any time to think about it. I’d kick his butt out the door and tell him to get a job and a life.

Seeing Tracy’s distress, Mark came toward her adding, But then that’s Jim I speak of, not Evan. I guess I shouldn’t judge Evan without actually knowing him. The thing is, Tracy, you told me about the dark secret in your life and I still want to marry you.

Arguments always happen when I tell someone about Evan.

We’re not arguing. And I’m not anyone, he said, poking himself in the chest. I’m me, Mark. And in spite of your brother and his phobia, I still love you and want to marry you. Let’s put the ring back on your finger.

She wasn’t ready for that.

Come on, he coaxed, we’ll get married and live here in my New York apartment. I’ve got a great apartment, haven’t I?

I don’t want to live in New York, she said.

I thought you liked it here.

Evan needs me.

I need you.

My home is Drendal.

My home is here.

Evan needs me, she repeated.

You said he manages okay by himself, so let him.

Tears welled in Tracy’s eyes. You’re not accepting his problem, Mark.

"Yes, Tracy, I am. Sort of."

Because right away you’re thinking that something should be done to fix him. And that’s not what I want from you.

How can you accept this problem? How can he?

See what I mean? She threw up her hands and gave a huff, wishing Evan was still but a guarded secret in the back of her mind. I shouldn’t have told you about him.

Yes, of course you should have. Mark was working his sweet trust-me look on her again. It’s okay, honey. We’re going to be fine.

Tracy didn’t move away when he closed in on her this time. But while she truly loved being in his warm, gray-sweatered embrace, and was starting to feel at least somewhat convinced that everything might be okay, she found it necessary to explain, It’s only been my brother and me for a long time. Just the two of us, managing his problem. And we’ve done okay. I just...I don’t want anyone coming into my life now that might disrupt that.

Such as me, Mark gathered coolly.

Things have to be right between us, all three of us, before I can accept your ring.

Like marry you, marry your brother?

She nodded, but rephrased it. Like seeing Evan the way I see Evan or—

Or? Mark asked.

Breaking away from him now, Tracy stated her rules, I can’t marry you until you actually meet Evan, take some time to get to know him, and show me that you can accept him for what he is rather than for what you think he should be. That’s the deal.

Deal? You’re turning this into a deal that I can either take or just get the hell out of your life?

She lifted her purse off the desk, opened it and pulled out a snapshot of her brother to show him.

Mark took it. Looking at the picture seemed to make Evan more real to him than any of Tracy’s words had thus far. So you want me to go to Minnesota to meet him.

Tracy turned up a feeling-better grin. Well, he couldn’t come here, could he?

Drendal, Mark said.

Yes.

A small town.

Very small.

Though Mark was obviously trying to see this her way, he was still hopelessly skeptical. I’m a long-time New Yorker. I’m not sure I could cope in a small town, would even be able to breathe in it.

Breathing is much easier there, believe me, she assured him.

I always felt that a small town had—

You’d be going there because of Evan, not the town.

To get to know him, Mark mocked her earnestness.

And accept him, she said.

In order for you to accept me.

Yes.

As Tracy watched, waited and hoped for the best, Mark struggled with the concept. Then finally, with his face mellowing into that wonderful Costner smile of his, he asked, Okay, so when do we go? When will you be finished here?

Not we, she had to tell him now. You.

He was perplexed all over again.

I want you to go by yourself, she said.

Oh, Tracy...I don’t know about that...my going there alone.

To Tracy his doing this would be proof of his love and trustworthiness. And proof, more than chance, was what she needed now. I have a lot of work ahead of me here, she said, plus I still have the New Jersey hotel to cover before going home.

I’ll wait for you and we’ll go back together, he suggested.

No, you go on ahead of me, Mark.

You’re kidding, right?

She gave him a pretty-please look off the tops of her eyes.

He shook his head.

Mark? she pleaded in a pretty-please voice.

He rolled his eyes.

My brother is a friendly person, she said, yet he doesn’t have one friend who comes to see him. Be his friend, Mark, and then we’ll see about us. Close to him again, she caressed his sweatered chest like a wishful person rubbing a genie.

Tracy, I’m going through a writer’s block right now and I’m not sure this would be a good time for me to—

Drendal is a writer’s dream for unlocking a writer’s block.

Mark tried another angle. Besides my not wanting to go visit Evan alone, I’m really not sure you can just dump a stranger on him like that.

I’ll set it up, tell him you’re coming, it’ll be okay.

Besides, Mark said, what’s the hurry? I mean, whether I meet Evan in a few days or a couple weeks when you and I could go together?

Because it would be good for the both of you, just the two of you alone, getting to know one another. Kind of like a test.

Ask a girl to marry you and you get a test thrown at you, he complained in a giving-in sort of way.

She locked her arms around his neck. But I’m worth it, right?

Mmm…well, let’s see, he said ahead of kissing her.

3

When Tracy woke up beside Mark in bed the next morning she found him holding and staring at the picture of Evan.

When she moved some, his look shifted to her and he took her under his arm. Hey, sleepyhead.

What time is it? she asked, reluctantly remembering her job.

Seven. You’ve got plenty of time for—

"Seven? No, it can’t be." When she tried to roll away from him and get out of bed, he tightened his hold and kept her. Which was all it took for her to relent to the here and now and a deep, sensual kiss with him. Last night’s love making had been great, and she felt closer than ever to Mark this morning.

Sleep good? he asked when they settled back into a contented cuddle. After we…

Mmm… Tracy answered.

Me too. He picked up Evan’s picture and studied it again. You guys look a lot alike.

My hair is longer, she said with a giggle.

Not much, he laughed, making back and forth comparisons between her brother and her.

Thanks for agreeing to go meet him.

All by myself, without you. Mark put the picture aside and gave her a serious look. Oh, Tracy, I just really wish I had a better feeling about this, my going there alone. I mean, I still don’t see how it will—

Don’t, she said, pressing her finger against his lips. Please don’t back down now. I need you to do this.

I’m not backing down. I promised I’d go and I will.

But you’re going to hate it, aren’t you? And then you’re going to hate me.

Probably, he teased. Then added seriously, I’m playing for keeps here, Tracy. Whatever matters to you, matters to me. Learning about this agoraphobic brother of yours last night, I see how much he matters to you. I also see how much frustration and hurt you’ve been going through because of him. I want you to know that you’re not alone in dealing with him anymore. You’ve got me now and I’ll help in any way that I can.

Though Tracy adored Mark’s thoughtfulness, she couldn’t help wondering if he would still feel the same after becoming more directly involved with the situation.

Okay? Mark asked for her trust.

Suddenly she bolted from his arms, pulled on her robe, and headed for the bathroom. Do you know how late it is!

During her shower, Tracy tried to enforce her reasons for believing she could have a future with Mark. He’d remained so sweet and understanding last night, after she’d turned down his marriage proposal. The talk they’d had about that and about Evan went pretty well. And their love-making at been great. And this morning they’d felt so close and secure with one another.

Okay, sure, she’d had a lot of stuff to deal with in her life…losing both her parents, Evan’s agoraphobia, several failed relationships, and big financial problems a while back. But Mark had come to her as something wondrously above all that, and if she didn’t let herself truly trust in him and believe in the happy world they could have together then maybe she just plain didn’t deserve any happiness whatsoever.

When she left the bathroom, Mark was sitting on the edge of the bed, still looking at the picture of Evan. But when she started getting dressed, he turned to watch her instead. He smiled with a manly pleasure that made Tracy glad she had a good body and lacy underwear.

When the show was over, Mark came to give her a long kiss before heading to the bathroom for his shower.

Tracy checked the time. There was no way she was going to make her eight-thirty meeting with the hotel manager. She phoned him apologetically, asked if they could change it to nine, and he said sure, no problem.

Mark’s shower took nowhere near as long as hers. He was soon out of the bathroom, dressing before her and teasingly rubbing in the fact that she sluffed her job in preference of him.

Admitting as much, she helped him finish buttoning his shirt. But by the time he pulled his sweater down over his head, her insecurity returned. Tell me again that we’re going to be okay, she said.

We’re going to be okay, he told her. And as a symbol of that, why don’t we put the ring back on.

No. Not yet. I can’t.

Tracy…

Please understand, Mark.

It took him some time to reluctantly say, Okay.

She dropped her look from him. I’m sorry.

Hey... he said, putting his hand beneath her chin and raising it until their eyes met again, "I’ve never seen you like this, they way you were last night and this morning. So scared and insecure. Come on, honey. You’ve got a brother who won’t leave the house, and a real nice boyfriend, me, who’s going to go visit him and prove that I can get along with him. Then we’re going to get married and live happily ever after…the three of us."

She smiled halfheartedly. You’re ridiculing my expectations.

"No. I’m getting the picture you want me to