Joshua is at the door. My brother is at the door, grinning at me like we are best friends.
“Hey,” Joshua says and it earns him a scowl from me. Laughing, he runs his fingers through his hair, I get a view of his knuckles, I don’t understand his choice of tattoo or a need for one in general.
Instead of ushering him in, I step out and close the door behind me. He lifts a brow. “Hey. What are you doing here?” I wince at how harsh I sounded, clearing my throat, I say, “I mean, why are you here?”
“Wow, Brandon.” He pats my shoulder while shaking his head, I cringe. I didn’t mean to sound that way, he never visits me at home. “Good to see you too.” He points a finger at his chest, his voice lowers in an imitation of mine. “Good to see you, Josh. I missed you, maybe one of the days we should catch up.”
The laughter that follows fails to hide the pain in his words, my hands fall to my sides, I straighten up to stare down at him. “You want to catch up?” He shrugs, I take that to mean yes and add it to the list of things to do on my jam-packed calendar. He bridges the short distance between us, I give his shoulder a small squeeze. “I didn’t mean to sound that way, I was surprised because you have never come here.”
“Well, your communication skills suck.” I nod, I am well aware of that. He sways gently on the bottom stair, adjusting the basket in one hand. “I have never come here because you have never invited me.”
My mouth parts, I close it without saying a word. Does he need an invitation? To be fair, I don’t know where he lives. Running my hands through my face, I sigh. “But I didn’t invite you today,” I murmur.
“The girls did,” he replies with a smile I have trouble reciprocating.
Taking advantage of my silence, he walks in before I can stop him. “About that...” I pause beside him, watching him take in the sight of my new house. This one storey building is nothing like the mansion.
Dark walls, dark curtains, dark cushions.
The only trace of colour is the pink bowl looking out of place on the centre table. I don’t remember who dropped it here but it has stayed in the parlour ever since. Joshua plops into a brown sofa, throwing his hand over the back of the furniture as he crosses his leg. He flashes me a smile, I relax on the single sofa beside him to deliver the bad news before the twins arrive. He will not be going anywhere with them.
“Wyn says you are teaching them how to skate.” He nods while scratching the scruff on his jaw and I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. If he stops staring so hard at me, it will be easier to break the news. I rub my hands on my knees. “Since when do you skate?” His grin widens. “El didn’t tell me that.”
Our gazes lock, the air thickens with suffocating silence. Tugging on the loose thread of his jeans, he shrugs. “Maybe she didn’t think it important.” If it involves my girls, then it is important but I keep my mouth shut and he leans back on the couch. He scans my face. “You don’t want me to take them?”
“It’s not that,” I say when in actual sense, that’s what I want.
The idea of him and Elna making plans without seeking my consent partly annoys me. I don’t want them getting closer than they already are. My phone pings in my pocket, I pull it out and scoff at the short message on the screen. It is from El. I start typing but delete it, after many trials, I toss the phone to the couch without replying her. Texting me minutes after my brother arrives to let me know he will be going out with the girls isn’t the way it should be done but I am in no mood for an argument. So I let it slide.
Joshua stands. “I get it. We can always reschedule.”
“I would appreciate a heads up next time,” I reply. He lowers himself to the seat, the initial anger wears off at his shaky smile. It will take a while for us to get a hang of this sibling thing. “Just call or text me.”
“El was actually hoping we would spend some time together,” Joshua volunteers. My lips press into a thin line. It’s so like her to want to fix everything and everyone but me. He moves to the end of the sofa, our legs touch and his gaze falls to the tiled floor reflecting the chandelier. “I was hoping the same too.” He smiles, I smile and the ice breaks. I can’t remember us ever being close but I want to change that. A comfortable silence settles over us. “How’s work?” His eyes roam the parlour. “Where are my girls?”
“My girls, not yours.” He rolls his eyes. “They are upstairs. Work is fine.” I jump to my feet, shuffling towards the staircase and he follows. Taking a step forward, I pause and a rush of emotions sweeps over me at his small smile. I pull him for a side hug, ruffling his hair in the process and his grunt has both of us laughing. We stand a few feet apart, backs resting on the railings. “I am glad you came,” I whisper.
We continue up the stairs, down the dim-lit corridor with doors on one side. “We are going to El’s parents after, you are welcome to come.” I shake my head. El’s mother might be waiting for me at the door with a knife. She must hate me, I have lost count of her missed calls and messages. I promised to take care of her daughter and here we are. “She keeps asking for her son-in-law,” he murmurs. “They miss you.”
The darkness hides his face, I exhale. It’s unfair of them; I made efforts. I have tried but she doesn’t want anything to do with me. Why is no one talking to her? I will do anything to have a day from our former lives but she will do anything to keep things the way they are. She should be the one getting this talk.
Wyn’s voice snaps me back to reality, I quicken my steps, stopping again at the sound of Joshua’s voice.
“She’s rooting for you.” His words must have carried specks because my eyes water from the impact. If we had a mother like hers, maybe I wouldn’t have turned out this way, he might have been alive. “For what it’s worth, I am rooting for you.” My head bobs, I am thankful for the darkness. Crap, I am getting way too emotional over a simple remark. Elna will never take me back. “You two make a great couple.”
“Do you even know what I did?” I am forced to ask. Their support will end once they find out my crimes, they will understand I deserve this punishment. The hate will start. I suspect Joshua knows but he has not confronted me and I will be damned if I mention it to him. “If you did, you wouldn’t be saying this.”
“We can’t change the past but we can shape the future.”
His words travel in the dark, weirdly comforting me. I don’t voice out my fears. If he so badly wants to believe the best of me, I will let him. I do a great job of beating myself up already. I am hesitant to head to the girls room, their bickering has stopped but I want to be in my brother’s presence a while longer.
“How do you manage to stay so positive?” I couldn’t take it. The pretence, the facade we put up for the public was one of my biggest reasons for leaving. He stayed without complaints. Frustration has me pulling my beards, I ask, “How do you look at them and not feel the urge to run? How do you do it?”
In the future, the girls will want more than video calls with their grandparents. I would have to face them but how do I do that when disgust soaks my being at the thought of them? They could have remained childless if they weren’t cut up for parental duties rather than set up their children against each other.
“Therapy,” Joshua says, “loads of therapy.” I snicker. Therapy won’t work for me, no way will I talk to some paid strangers about my problems. “You should try it out sometime. Let it out. Let it go, Brandon.”
Without a response to him, I open the door. Our conversation fades to the back of my mind as the twins rush to us, we scoop them off their feet with all smiles. Their existence is the only therapy I need. P