Heart Condition

Chapter Nine: Home Style

I tumbled down the stairs at the sound of the front door opening; Tuesday night was family night, and after cramming with Sasha the day before, I had things to tell my brothers. And, as per usual, Charlie was the first to show up.

            Against the kitchen chair he leaned, reading the Chronicle and waiting on the microwave. These nights were the start of Char’s break from the hospital, and he never passed up home-cooked meals, even if they were leftovers. He worked forty-eight hours starting Sunday and Thursday nights, which meant not eating food necessarily deemed ‘healthy’ by many people’s standards.

            My arms wrapped around him, and I greeted, “Morning, sleepy.”

            “Hey, Ab-normal.” He kissed the top of my head, “What’s up?” He placed the paper down and gestured to the seat across from him. Stepping toward the counter, I checked on the ziti in the oven. Mom would insist that it was not a casserole, but just because it tasted good didn’t make it true.

            Shutting the oven door, I slid into the chair and smiled, “Not much. How are you?”

            “Becca says you got a ride home last night.” He prompted, with eyebrows raised, “Your mom says he has a motorcycle.” I looked away from my stepbrother and smiled, looking at my phone mischievously; it was nice to have girlfriends to gossip with, but when I talked to Charlie, it seemed more beneficial.

            “True, and true.” I affirmed, checking for any new messages before I looked back at him. He folded his arms across his chest; I wasn’t going to get out of this one.

            My brother gestured, “The floor’s yours, Bee. Spill your guts, or I’ll have to call Liam and there will be a family meeting.”

            That was the empty threat Charlie and Liam always threw when they wanted to get something out of me; they threatened to tell not only Mom, but also Daniel, who was worse than the two of them combined when it came to me.

            See, Daniel and his wife were married for about twenty-five years; two boys, house upstate, all that good stuff. And then she decided it wasn’t what she wanted anymore, and took off. Last Liam told me, she was in Fiji or Tahiti or some other remote island that sounded super exotic. When Daniel met my mom, the boys were upperclassman at the high school and I was about to start junior high; my dad had passed the summer before. They got married the summer before my freshman year.

            Everyone said it was too fast; I remembered the way my Nona looked at Mom when she heard the news. She was convinced I’d hate her forever, for not having the proper time to grieve or mourn our loss. But I didn’t; I’d spent enough time with my dad before everything that, when he told me to let my mom move on, if that’s what she wanted, that I should support her. I also remember how Aunt Leila seemed to be the only person who admired my mom for being able to move on the way she did.

            But now I was here, in a room, getting interrogated by someone I considered my brother, and I kind of enjoyed it.

            I took a breath, “His name is Sasha. He used to play lacrosse and…”

            “Wait.” Charlie raised his hand to stop me, “A lacrosse player? Since when do you care about sports?” He knew. I had only recently understood and entertained the idea of going to a baseball game. Char and Liam took me over the summer, just because they knew it was ‘an experience’. It wasn’t that I didn’t like sports exactly; I just didn’t really get them. But once I learned about the concept of the game, and what made it interesting, I found them slightly less boring, was all.