Page 74 of Anti Player

“I’m going to pack now, Mom. I’ll send you my flight info when I have it,” Brett says.

“Thanks, honey,” Mom replies.

They end the call, and my brother and I give each other knowing looks.

“I’ll prepare you a sandwich to eat,” I say to Brett.

“I’ll go pack my bags.” He blows out a breath. “What am I supposed to do with him, Maddie?”

“Let’s call Henry,” I suggest. “He should know about Dad’s sudden reappearance.”

We call my brother, who sounds just as exasperated as we do.

“Maybe he really wants the help this time,” Henry says.

“Maybe,” I state, but I think it’s only the wishful thinking we all harbored as kids.

“I’ll go home and check him into rehab. There is no way he should stay living with Mom. She can’t deal with him on her own, that man always has a way of breaking down her defenses,” Brett says.

“I can stay with Mom. She shouldn’t be alone and I agree, if Dad wants to get sober that’s fine. Let him do it elsewhere,” I declare.

“He should do it elsewhere but there’s no way you’re going home to babysit our mother,” Henry says pointedly.

“Maddie is going to culinary school,” Brett shares. “You’re not taking care of our parents.”

“He’s right, Maddie,” Henry chimes.

“I’m going home,” Brett relays.

“Okay,” I concede.

“Good luck, Brett. Let me know if you need me to fly in,” Henry tells him.

“I’ll be fine. He knows not to fuck with me,” Brett says, referring to our father.

“Yeah,” I sigh.

We end the call with Henry. Brett goes to pack and I make him a sandwich and pack him one to go, since my brother likes to eat.

When he’s ready, we all leave the apartment to drive Brett to the airport. We bump into Kaleb in the hall.

“What’s going on?” he asks, looking between us. The tension in the air is palpable.

Brett gives him the spiel about my father’s crazy return, and Kaleb looks concerned since he knows about all our highs andlows. The happiness of Dad coming back to us, the sadness when he left without a goodbye.

“Asher can stay with me if you want. He doesn’t have to go to the airport,” Kaleb offers.

I don’t have to look at my son to know what he is going to think of that idea. He went to Kaleb’s hockey camp every day. He came home filled with excitement and stories. He adores Kaleb.

“Can I, Mom?” Asher asks.

“I don’t see why not,” I say. It is silly to drag him to the airport. There may be a lineup to get a standby ticket.

Asher cheers and Kaleb offers him a hand. “Wanna go get ice cream?”

My son bobs his head.

“Don’t you have plans?” I say to Kaleb. “You were leaving the building.”

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