Page 19 of A Night to Remember

I ignore the dig. How can Adam be so insensitive to the plight of people we’ve grown up around? I should know better than to argue with him, but his smugness is infuriating.

“But can’t you see that we had an easier start in life than people like the Johnsons?” I gesture to his huge McMansion.

“Hey, little bro, I’ve earned what I have.” He starts getting up in my face, obviously done being challenged by his kid brother. The actual kids, by this point, have lost interest in basketball. Hadyn and Maddie are trying to hatch the ball like an egg, and Tyler is loping back up towards the house, likely in search of his Switch. I stand my ground, and when he gets within a few inches of me, he hisses, “I know what this is about.”

I’d been bracing for a punch, but now my muscles clench even tighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I bluff.

“Like hell,” he whispers. “You’ve been after that girl since high school. It’s pathetic. You think you’re going to get in her pants now by coming to her rescue? She’s just playing you.”

“She’s not,” I snap. Adam may or may not think Kayla is a con artist, but I know that what really irks him is that Kayla has never liked him. When he’d come home from college during our senior year and spotted me hanging around her at the diner, he’d tried to insinuate himself between us. He’d turned on the charm, just to see if he could get her to react. I know he’d never cheat on Lucy, but he needs to be liked, and more importantly,he needs to be likedmorethan me. He’d been the same way with Gretchen.

Kayla had been polite, but never rose to the bait. Then once, at the rare high school basketball game she’d attended, I’d broken away from my friends to flirt with her. I was jokingly/not jokingly trying to get her to sneak under the bleachers with me, using all my worst math jokes to win her over.

“Hey, baby, want to squeeze my theorem while I poly your nomial?” I’d said while nuzzling her ear, arms wrapped around her waist. She’d giggled and pretended to push me away.

“These jokes are deriving me crazy,” she quipped. But just as I was trying to come up with a witty retort, Adam sauntered over.

“You get yourself a treat at the concession stand, little bro? Why don’t you share some with me?” And he grabbed Kayla’s wrist and pulled her roughly towards him.

“Hey—” I shouted, charging at him, but before I could reach him she slapped his cheek with her free hand. Not hard, but hard enough to make her point. He waited a beat before releasing her. His rude grin froze on his face and his eyes glittered dangerously.

Kayla returned to my side and I slipped a protective arm around her. I glared at Adam, preparing myself for a fight, but all he said was, “Good luck with that, little bro,” and walked away.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I said to Kayla immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes,” she assured me, but I could tell she was shaken.

“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked. She nodded, so I laced my fingers gently though hers and led her out of the crowded, noisy gym into the deserted hallways of the school. I was angrier with my brother than I ever had been, but most of my attention was focused on the girl at my side. I was unspeakably grateful to her for not abandoning me because ofmy brother’s atrocious behavior. It made me realize, for the first time, maybe, that I was my own person and not just part of the larger Wilson clan.

We sat down across from each other in the darkened band room, behind a jumble of music stands. I was still holding her hand, and now I reached up to trace the lines on her palm with the other.

“I wish I could say that Adam never acts like that,” I said. “But that wouldn’t really be true.”

She laughed ruefully. “It’s not your fault,” she replied. “You’re not like that.”

“No,” I agreed. “My dad is really hard on both of us—he hasveryhigh expectations—and has always kind of pitted us against each other to try to get us to achieve more. I respond mostly by refusing to participate, and Adam responds by going afterme.”

She reached up and brushed a lock of hair off my forehead, a gesture that sent a shiver down my spine. “I barely remember my dad,” she confessed. “He left us when I was little. He was never a very affectionate guy, but he did like to read to me. He read all the classics—Chronicles of Narnia,Lord of the Rings, theWrinkle in Timeseries,everything.”

“Is that why you like to read so much?” I looked up from her palm, trying to read her face in the dark.

She shrugged with a small smile. “Maybe. I read to myself after he was gone.” I smiled back at her, not because what she’d said was at all funny, but because it felt so nice to talk to her. I could have stayed there forever, slowly unraveling our family histories for each other, opening our hearts for the other’s inspection. For the moment, though, we let silence settle in around us. I was still holding her gaze, running my thumb over the crease in her wrist, when I heard the hallway behind me fill with talking and laughter.

“I guess the game is over,” she said finally. “We’d better go.” I helped her to her feet and we walked, slowly, as if in a dream, against the current of the crowd to retrieve our coats from the gym. She let me take her to her car and I remember, as if it were yesterday, that I pressed my lips to her knuckles once before she drove away.

Adam never mentioned that night to me again, but I doubt very much that he’s forgotten. As we face off in his driveway, I wonder, in a burst of paranoia, if he somehow had a hand in her current predicament. Could he have discouraged the Loan Servicing department from offering to help her refinance?

“Everything all right out here, guys?” Lucy, no doubt sensing trouble, joins us in the driveway, the winter sun reflecting dully off her stick-straight, dyed-blonde hair. She’s a head shorter than Adam, but her black eyes fix him with such a critical glare that he relaxes his aggressive stance immediately, obviously cowed.

“Fine,” Adam grumbles, a muscle still twitching in his jaw.

“Gabe.” Lucy turns to me with a wide smile. “Do you have a date for Hungry Hearts yet?”

I sigh. “Is it really so important that I go? I’d be happy to stay here with the kids and save you the trouble of finding a babysitter.”

Lucy’s smile fades. “Yes, it is important. Everyone knows you’re back in town, and it’ll be weird if you’re not there. You can’t mope about Gretchen forever.”

“I’m not—” I start to object.

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