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He picks up on the second ring, and even though it’s been fifteen years, I know his voice and face immediately.
“James,” I say.
“Luke.”
He’s smiling, and he looks exactly the way I remember him. Not as broad as me, but the same sandy hair we inherited from our parents. His eyes are darker, his facesmooth where mine is bearded, but anyone who looked at us together would immediately know we were brothers. I used to be so proud of that before our parents kicked him out and everything went to hell.
“Hey,” I say. “Thanks for answering.”
My older brother laughs easily, like the thought of hanging up on me never occurred to him. “You have a beard. And your voice is deeper,” he says.
“Oh. Yeah. I guess it is. I was young.”
“We both were.”
A sober beat of silence stretches between us. I planned this conversation out in my head, ran through it dozens of times, even played it out aloud in my house. But faced with this chaos of time and hurt and silence, I have absolutely no idea what to say to the brother I abandoned half a lifetime ago.
“How are you doing?” James says. “Tell me about your life.”
“I’m … I’m good, I think,” I say. “I’m at school. Not for classes. I mean, of course not for classes. I’m a teacher.”
“A teacher,” James says. “That suits you.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I do. You were always quiet, but you liked learning. You were way better at school than me. I can see you wanting to pass that on.”
“What about you?” I ask.
We’ve chatted a little on social media, but it’s always been surface-level stuff. We haven’t even talked about our jobs yet, aside from him mentioning that he likes his.
James describes a dev job that goes right over my head. He claims I was the better student out of the two of us, but half of what he’s saying sounds like gibberish to me. It seems like he likes it though. He goes on about his co-workers and his office, and it all sounds so happy, so normal. Does anyone around him even realize what he’s been through?
“I’m glad, James,” I say. “I’m really glad. That all sounds really good.”
“Thanks. And thanks for calling. It’s good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you.”
My throat clogs up. I swallow and swallow, but nothing manages to clear it. My eyes burn, and I have to blink to clear them.
“You still there?” James says. “Did my phone freeze?”
“No,” I say, voice only a little rough. “I’m still here.”
“You okay? Sorry if I said something.”
“No, it’s just…”
I take another swallow. It’s time to push past the pleasantries. I didn’t call him to hear about his job, but making this call at all has put a tremor in my hands. My bones are liquid as I prepare to wade into deeper topics.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d answer,” I finally say. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to hear from me.”
“Of course I want to hear from you,” James says immediately. “You’re my little brother. I haven’t gotten to see you in fifteen years. I’d chew off my own arm to take this phone call, Luke.”
“Aren’t you angry?” I blurt.
Confusion knits his brows. “Why would I be angry?”
“Because I abandoned you. I didn’t stick up for you. I let Mom and Dad kick you out and didn’t even try to get in contact or anything.”
