*Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe "inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the "innocent."*
In the broadest possible sense, I guess Jeremy and I were "family," although we shared absolutely zero blood ties.
How so? Let me explain. I'm Trevor. My parents divorced when I was 6. My dad got remarried to my stepmom, who had a sister who was likewise married with kids. That sister got divorced, then remarried a guy with a son of his own--Jeremy. Make sense? So in the strictest sense, Jeremy was my stepcousins' stepbrother. Which made us... nothing at all.
For all that, we were still in each other's orbits, especially when we were younger. Since my dad had us on weekends, and my stepmom's family all lived close by, I would on occasion run into him, particularly at big get-togethers like all-family cookouts or the holidays.
I never knew Jeremey all that well... but what I did know made me cringe on his behalf. He was a couple years younger than me when we first met, like 8 or 9. His dad Gerald was a jackass, pure and simple--loud, opinionated, sure he was always right. A blue-collar man in a small town. Paleolithic in his views on gender roles, politics, minorities, city-folk... and pretty much everything.
The kids got the worst of it. He was harder on the boys, enforcing a brutal regimen of turning them into "real men." And he was particularly harsh towards his own son Jeremy. Nothing the kid did was ever good enough. Everything he did was a waste of time, and reflected badly on his dad and men-folk in general. Buying Star Wars action figures was "playing with dolls." If he got freaked out watching a horror movie, he was "being a pussy." Doing well at school made you a "dexter." Even when Jeremy tried to make his dad happy, he got dismissed because no one likes a suck up.
Jeremy essentially became the family scapegoat, ruthlessly bullied and just as ruthlessly told to man up about it. His younger stepsister, the baby of the family, became a princess who could do no wrong. Even as a kid, I could see Jeremy's brightness fade. It kinda shook me.
It was only a few years later that my dad took a job out on the west coast, and I pretty much stopped seeing Jeremy--or anyone from my stepmom's family. I was involved in school, sports, friends and the joys of growing up, and by the time I was in college I had pretty much forgotten about their existence.
Now, I was approaching my big 30th birthday, and I was feeling pretty damn good about my life. Despite a few false starts, I had a good job going with enough prospects to keep me interested. I had long ago put my pimply-faced-dork phase behind me, and had grown into my looks. I hope it doesn't make me sound like a douchebag, but I'm damn fine on the eyes. I also put a fair amount of work into my body and was not ashamed in the locker room. I had a sporty, Guy Next Door vibe going, and an easy-going personality.
Best of all, I had gotten married the year before, to an amazing girl named Liv. We were still in the honeymoon phase, although our sex life was no longer chugging along at the rate I would have liked it to. Liv was soft, sweet, and had a heart of gold, and I was lucky to have her. Okay, so I admit there were moments where I felt like I was getting just a bit domesticated. For one, she tended to think sports were "silly" and got pouty if I watched too many games. I was finding it harder and harder to hang out with my buddies. And, I had a hairy chest--and, um... hairy other parts--that she was always hounding me to go smooth because I looked like a "caveman." But these were minor things, and she really did bring out the best in me. Life was good.
But life sometimes throws you for a loop.
It started that spring. A few years earlier, my dad moved back to town, and restarted his tradition of hosting big, blow-out barbeques on the big marquee holidays. I didn't usually make them; you know how it is trying to balance spending time with divorced parents while trying to live your own life, and lay down some traditions of your own. It didn't help that he lived way out in the exurbs, and most of the family had a small-town mentality. They all seemed to think life in the city was a nightmarish cycle of gang wars, riots, arson, and babies selling meth on the streets. I mean, I got along with everyone generally, and no one was outright mean, but it was a bit... exhausting.
But after getting married, my wife started expressing more and more of an interest to go. She had commented that she was still somewhat bewildered by my dad's branch of the family, and eager to get to know everyone. She batted her big brown eyes at me, and I couldn't say no.
And so that Memorial Day, we packed up some homemade potato salad to pass around, and loaded up the car to make the trip out there.
Overall, it was fun, but a bit disorienting. Since I hadn't been there for many years, I admit I was straining at remembering peoples' names myself. But there was good food, cold beer, and it was fun to catch up.
At one point I was talking to my stepcousin Janey, and noticed this guy who was standing apart, like he was trying to fade into the wallpaper. Easier said than done... he was... well, he was noticeable. In all the right ways. And I say that as a happily married straight guy who never made it a habit of checking guys out. He was buff, with a great build--the kind that came from being a jock rather than artificially bulking up in the gym. Sharply handsome, with a rough, scruffy beard that gave him a slight bad-boy vibe. And really piercing eyes, although there was a certain... wariness about them. An All-American jock, right there in the flesh.
I... was curious. I mean, I was a bit rusty with people's names, but he didn't look familiar at all. I turned to my cousin. "Boy, I'm worse with names than I thought. Who is that guy? I swear I've never seen him before. Is he someone's boyfriend?"
My cousin looked over, then lightly punched me. "Doofus. That's my stupid stepbrother Jeremy. Remember, we used to play together? Are you really that clueless?"
"Aw, man... it's been a long time. Boy, he sure filled out." I thought for a second, but something tickled in the back of my mind. "'Stupid' you say? That's kinda harsh. What's his deal?"
"Oh, he's not an asshole or anything, just... you know, a boring, intense loner. Yeah, he's good looking and everything, but I'd never like set him up or anything with one of my friends."
Her dismissal seemed coldly out of character, surprising me. I changed topics slightly. "I remember his dad used to ride him pretty hard. All of you, really."
Janey sighed. "Well, I never had a problem with Gerald, but I know the boys did. Especially Jeremy. Jeremy never played his cards right." She didn't elaborate. Inwardly, I thought about the times growing up when I thought she was a bit of a pampered princess. Like as the only girl, she was the Golden Child of the family.
Ouch. That probably wasn't fair to her.
But I don't know that life had been all that fair to Jeremy.
