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“I appreciate you letting me tag along, and I can’t thank you enough for letting me come use your kitchen. The ovens are amazing.”
“Thanks,” he said. “My magazines always liked them.” I grinned.
“You seemed so intimidating when I met you. I wouldn’t have guessed that you’d be funny. Or, you know, real.”
“Because I seemed like AI? Computer generated forbidding older brother?” he said wryly.
“Exactly. You seemed like one of those scary-smart people who frightens everyone by making jokes like that, about AI and stuff, and we all just stare and try to understand it. But you’re human. It made me feel a thousand times more comfortable.”
I finished loading his dishwasher and started the cycle. “You really don’t mind if I leave this stuff here?”
“You’re right. You should lug home that fifty-pound mixer and bring it back in the morning,” he said.
“Alright, I’ll leave it. So, you guys have always been like that?” I couldn’t help asking. “Like the best of friends?”
“Pretty much. We argue and stuff from time to time, but we’ve always been really lucky to have each other. Most people, I think, aren’t as close to their siblings as we are.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, are your parents still around?”
“Yes and no. They’re alive and well, living in Miami. I retired them after my first big commission and got them a place where it’s warm. They love it. Mom learned to golf. Dad’s writing a book about the Cuban missile crisis or something,” he said. I smiled.
“That’s so sweet,” I said.
‘What about yours?”
“They’re okay I guess.”
“You guess? You don’t see them often?”
“Last time I talked to my mom, I invited her to the opening of my shop. She and her boyfriend had other plans.”
“Opening your own business is a pretty big milestone. I’m sorry they didn’t come.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t really expect her to come. When I turned eighteen right before I graduated high school, she let me know that I would be moving out as soon as school was over in May. I guess she figured she’d put in her time raising me and wanted her own life.”
“That’s harsh,” he said, and the way his brow furrowed told me he didn’t think much of my mom.
“She took care of me when I was little. She wasn’t bad. Just never wanted to be a mom. She got caught out and had me. She was young, and her parents kicked her out. She waited tables and eventually got line work at a factory out in Jersey. I had food and shoes and a winter coat and stuff. We went roller skating on my birthday one time, and she was so good, Ethan. She could go in the middle of the rink. She could spin so fast and everything. It makes me sad to think about it now because I see how carefree and strong she must have been before life got her down. I begged her to teach me.”
“Did she?” he asked gently. I shook my head.
“There was never any time,” I shrugged.
“Then sometime we’ll go skating,” he said. I looked at him dubiously.
“That’s sweet but, um, I haven’t skated in probably fifteen years, and I can’t exactly picture you on roller skates.”
“Thank God,” he said with a laugh. “I wanted to be sweet, but I can’t see myself on skates either.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” I said and kissed his cheek.
“Are you sure I can’t follow you?”
“I’m sure. I’ve been driving myself around for years. I’m good at it.”
“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to take care of you.”
“Thanks. I’m good. And you and your brothers have been a godsend. I’m not sure what I would have done, as much as I hate to admit that.”
