See Dot Smile

Brotherly Love

I said I wanted to help him. But the truth is, Bud's problem is a little above my paygrade. I need to talk to someone with a little more ... life experience.

Which is why I'm braving a phone call with Brent, and hoping I don't regret the decision.

"Hey Dotsky," he says sleepily. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've never called me on the phone before. I figured something must be wrong."

I hear Maren ask who he's talking to, and I suddenly feel guilty about disturbing their Sunday morning routine. Or maybe I'm jealous that they have one.

"It's Dot," he says softly to her. "I'll go in the other room so you can sleep."

"Mm," Maren mumbles. "I'll keep your spot warm."

I hear them kiss and it pinches my heart.

"What's up, sis?" Brent asks, his voice less bedroomy.

I clear the emotional frog from my throat. "It's about Bud."

I expect him to gasp or blurt out a penis joke. But he doesn't. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah. He is. He told me something, and I want to help him with it. But I don't know how." My voice is cracking under the weight my heart has been carrying for Bud for the last ten hours. I don't know if it's worry, or fear, or ... disappointment. I don't know.

"What did he tell you?" Brent asks.

"He thinks something is wrong with him," I waver. "Because he doesn't want to have sex."

"Okay."

"With anyone. Ever."

Brent sighs and I'm picturing him rubbing his hand over his eyes.

"Is he broken?" My voice breaks sharply.

"No, Dot. He's not broken. He's just ... Bud." He chuckles but I know it's a cover for the real response he's having to hearing me cry.

"How do I help him?" I ask.

"Just talk to him," he says. "And listen. I'm sure you're doing that already. Make sure there's not something going on in his life that's making him afraid. Like abuse ... or trauma."

My breath catches and I shut my eyes against the thought of someone hurting Bud. When he was small. An angel. God, I pray that's not what happened to him.

"I'm not saying that's what it is, Dot," Brent says, sensing my distress. "He seems pretty sturdy to me."

"But he's so down on himself about it," I cry. "I don't want him to feel that way. But I don't know what it means or why he's like that. If it's something he can fix or if he even wants to."

Brent takes a deep breath. "I can send you some stuff to read. And you can share it with him. But I want you to be careful about labeling him something he's not ready to identify with. He'll know when something clicks for him. It might take a while. And it might change. He's still a kid, so he's got time. He'll get there."

I'm just crying now. Even though Brent is saying all the things I need him to. I still feel powerless. And really, really sad.

"Dot. He's okay. He's healthy and normal and perfect just the way he is. There's nothing to fix because nothing's broken."

"Okay."

"It's not about you. It's about Bud. Figuring out how he loves and how he wants to be loved. It's his journey. Just be there for him and keep him smiling. You got this, Dotsky."

"Thank you," I say. "How do you know so much about everything?"

"I think I grew up too fast."

I laugh and it makes him laugh and I'm so glad I called him. He's a good brother. Even if he is a total fuckface most of the time.

"Can I tell you why this really sucks for me?" he asks, his voice wobbly.

I roll my eyes even though he can't see me. "Why, Brent?"

"He would have made the sweetest brother-in-law."

My eyes fill up with tears and I want to smack him, but I can't.

"I hate you," I cry.

"Aw," he sniffles. "I love you, too, Dotsky."

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