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Jack pouts, looking for an angle. “Aren’t you embarrassed of me doing that? What if your billionaire buddies find out?”
“Don’t give a shit,” I say. “There’s nothing embarrassing about an honest paycheck. And if you really hate it, you can use it as an in-between while you look for another, better job.”
“I don’t have to stay here, you know,” Jack says. “I’m eighteen now.”
I snort. “How are you my brother and this bad at negotiating? You do realize that if you leave you’ll still need to get a job, right? Maybe two if you want to stay anywhere close to Manhattan. And you can forget about a doorman and a view too.”
Now Jack stands, flushed. “I didn’t have either in Jersey.”
“Fine,” I say. “Leave. Be my guest. But I’m not asking for a dime in rent. I don’t tell you when to get home. I think my demands are very reasonable.”
“Of course you’d think that.”
My face is set and I say simply, “You’d be stupid to walk out that door.”
We glower at each other for a moment. But then Jack caves and slumps back to a seat on the couch. “I’ll start looking,” he mutters.
“Good,” I say. I almost start in on GED classes, but then decide to save that battle for another day.
I check my watch. It’s almost 11. Time to head into work. I’m not usually this late, but at least I accomplished something this morning other than jerking off.
“I’m going to work,” I say. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Jack doesn’t respond, still sulking in front of the black television. It isn’t until I’m literally about to walk out the door that he stops me.
“Wait.”
I hesitate and reluctantly turn back.
Jack peers at me over the back of the couch. He looks defensive, as if he already knows my reaction isn’t going to be good. “I’m going to visit Dad tomorrow. Will you come with me?”
It’s a good thing I have so much control over my emotions. I manage not to look surprised, but just barely. Jack hasn’t tried to get me and Dad alone in the same room since he was a kid. He’d quickly learned that it doesn’t go well. Why he’s suddenly trying again is beyond me.
“Why?” I ask bluntly. “He doesn’t want to see me. I don’t want to see him.”
“I know that… But, like, it doesn’t change anything?” Jack asks hesitantly. “You know… Now that he’s answering for his crimes and shit.”
“He’s only there because he got caught,” I remind him. “And besides, the crimes I care about aren’t the ones he’s being punished for.”
Jack can’t argue with that. I think the matter’s settled, but then he looks down and says, “This is the first time I’m visiting him.”
That’s news to me. “You haven’t gone yet?” I ask, my brow furrowing.
“We talk on the phone once a month or so but…” He trails off. “I… I didn’t want to see him in there.”
“It would be weird to see him without a cigar in his hand,” I say.
“Or a drink,” Jack replies with a slight smile.
Jack hasn’t said it, probably because the men in my family all have the sensitivity of a bag of sand, but it’s pretty clear that he wants me to come along for emotional support. I want to remind him that of all things, comfort is the very last thing I should be turned to for. I’m just not good at it. But still… I look again at the kid’s face. He looks miserable. I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale through my teeth.
“Okay, fine,” I say. “I’ll go. If,” I say as his face lights up, “you show me some finished applications.”
“For sure. Thanks, man,” Jack says.
I head for the door and, with my body halfway in the hall, I turn back and point a finger at him. “But I’m not going into the same room with him. I’ll go with you and that’s it.”
He nods and I let the door swing shut, wondering how long it’ll take for me to regret agreeing to this.
