Page 101 of You + Me – Against the World

“Okay. I’ve been waiting for this for seventeen years, you know? But now that it’s finally here, I feel like I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“I know. But try to remember that he must be even more nervous than you. He’s going to meet his big brother. You must be a legend to him.”

Is there a single person on this earth who doesn’t find Vadim Arcadi fascinating?

34

Entering Keith’s office, I’m struck by the resemblance between the two Arcadis. Roman is a little shorter than Vadim, and his thick hair is cut short and a shade lighter. Nevertheless, they have the same fine features, the same gray eyes that are both gentle and cold, and the same full mouth. It’s more than just a family resemblance. They both have a melancholic air. An attitude that’s a little distant, a little angry, hard to define. But the detachment is only a mask.

At Keith’s suggestion, the two brothers were left alone together for ten minutes before we were let in—me and a very chic woman in her fifties. I quickly learned she was Roman’s adoptive mother, Mrs. Carter.

Roman Carter.

During the two hours the brothers spend together, Vadim can’t seem to relax. I see him tense up as he reels off his childhood memories and his brother admits he can’t remember anything. Roman is moved to discover his parents in the old photos Vadim brought with him. Mrs. Carter points out Jane Howard King’s beauty and refers to her as the boys’ “birth mother.” Vadim’s jaw clenches. Then, the discussion shifts to the present: Roman’s brilliant academic record, his eighteenth birthday, his girlfriend, the different sports he plays, and the medical studies he plans to pursue, following in his father’s footsteps. At this reference to “his father,” Vadim stiffens even more. He only gives brief, tight-lipped answers to the questions asked of him.

And the awkwardness grows. Roman, polite and well-raised, doesn’t know how to react to the story of his older brother’s chaotic childhood. His adoptive mother seems extremely affected by this injustice, and basically apologizes for not having adopted him too.

“I promise you I didn’t know there were two of you,” she whispers, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your apologies,” Vadim says. “I was just surprised they separate siblings.”

“They shouldn’t,” I add. “You should have grown up together.”

I take his hand and squeeze it tightly, while Keith tries to explain to us how complicated the orphan adoption system is. Then Vadim’s caseworker puts an end to this strange and somewhat bitter reunion.

“It’s going to take time for everyone to process all this. But remember that it’s no one’s fault. Your lives have taken different paths, and nothing can change that now. You can only decide what you make of it from now on.”

With these wise words, the brothers part with a perfunctory handshake. They don’t talk about seeing each other again, and Vadim leaves feeling shaken. Disappointed. Sickened.

“Thanks for coming with me, Alma.”

“Do you want to talk about all this?”

“No, I think I need to be alone.”

“I understand. But you have the right to feel everything you’re feeling, Vadim. It’s so unfair.”

“I’ll call you after my appointment with Michelle Kerry, okay?”

He is already walking away, maybe so I won’t see him cry, maybe to try to move on quickly. I tell him that I love him and that he is no longer alone, but I don’t think he hears me.

***

I’m not really in the mood for a family lunch, and apparently neither are the other Lancasters. For the past hour, my mother has been making bitter allusions to my father’s repeated absences, and he feels compelled to remind us that he works hard to provide us with this lifestyle. It’s a patriarchal broken record we’ve heard a thousand times before, but it looks like Marie Lancaster has decided not to take it lying down today.

“No one here is asking for anything other than a father and a husband,” she assures my father, who is sitting at the other end of the table.

There’s that tense smile and saccharine tone she uses on bad days. One look at Lily, and we both come to the same conclusion: Take cover!

In the blink of an eye, voices become raised, and cutting remarks are launched across the table. My father plants both fists on the table and gets to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process. Fearing for the dishes—but more for my mother—I stand up, ready to defend her on principle. Basile tries to intervene but is immediately shut down by his dad. Georgia comes out with our dessert but immediately turns on her heel and heads back into the kitchen. Lily’s eyes well up with tears as she begs them to stop in a small voice.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out discreetly to read the message I just received.

[I landed a contract. A shampoo ad.

Not exactly the highlight of my new career,

But you’ll soon see my face