Page 12 of Peep

Chris chuckles, displaying perfectly straight teeth. His crow’s feet stand out more than usual, oddly making him look more charming.

My half-brother is a smooth guy—he always has been. Even at forty-seven, he still makes people fall at his feet. It’s no surprise, considering he’s one of the most successful surgeons in the north. He’s annoyingly intelligent and has that classic tall, dark, and handsome thing going on, which is the complete opposite of me.

Chris has had a few short relationships with men and women, although nothing’s ever stuck. He’s married to his job and hasno intention of starting a family. He likes to tell people I’m the only son he’ll ever have. With an almost twenty-year age gap, it doesn’t surprise me that people think we’re father and son. In many ways, he has been like a father to me. He’s been there for me at every stage of my life, supporting me emotionally and financially like any other parent.

Despite our careers taking very different turns, he’s never judged me or made me feel bad for not being as successful as him. I hit the brother jackpot.

Neither of us is in contact with our dads, but our little family unit has never felt anything less than full.

“You coming in or what? Apparently, we’re having toad in the hole, your favourite.” Chris leans a hand through the window and ruffles my hair.

“Oi, piss off, will you,” I complain, swatting him away.

I climb out of the car, and Chris wraps a heavy arm around my shoulder and places a light kiss on the top of my head. I pretend to squirm in his grasp as he leads me up to Mum’s front door, but I secretly love how affectionate he is.

Before we can ring the bell, Mum swings the door open. Her dyed brown locks are tied up in a messy bun; wisps of hair frame her plump face. She has many wrinkles, evidence of a life well lived. Mum always stayed up late, drank too much wine, smoked weed and had her fair share of lovers. She’s been a phenomenal mother, slightly chaotic and impulsive at times, but at her core, she’s a good person.

She can’t have done too badly in life, considering one of her sons is a renowned surgeon. I’m less impressive, however, Mum doesn’t seem to mind. Like me, she bounced from job to job but always managed to make sure food was on the table and helped support Chris through medical school. He’s paid her back every penny and then some and sends her money each month as her meagre pension doesn’t go far.

“You’re late,” she pretends to scold with a warm smile.

“How did you know we were here? Were you waiting at the door?” my brother teases while leaning down to give her a hug and a loud peck on the cheek.

“No,” she says, throwing her head back as she laughs. “Got myself one of those door cams so I can see who’s comin’ and goin’. I tell you what, it ent half entertaining. You know, I think Jill is havin’ an affair with a younger bloke. He’s been poppin’ over in the middle of the day a few times a week.”

I bristle at the mention of ‘watching people’. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. My phone sits in my pocket like a burning lump of coal just begging to be pulled out and checked. Mum backs up, letting Chris pass through the entrance.

“Are you sure that’s not her grandson?” Chris asks, followed by a hearty chuckle.

“Hmm, could be. I’ll be keepin’ an eye out either way. Come here, love, give us a hug.”

I awkwardly half-hug her. When she pulls back, her brows are drawn together, scrutinising me.

“Jesus, why are you so pale, Anders? You comin’ down with somethin’?”

“I’m fine,” I mumble, wiggling from her tight hold.

She shrugs and lightly pats me on the cheek. “Made your favourite, darlin’.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

Her easy smile softens something inside of me, and I release my strung-up shoulders and follow them to the kitchen.

“So then, boys, what’s new?” Mum starts plating up dinner, clattering her pots and pans as usual. The kitchen looks like World War III has popped off; she’s yet to master the art of cleaning as she goes.

Chris ignores her chaos and dives into an expressive monologue about a unique surgery he performed this week. Hereally is admirable. I can only hope that one day, I get my shit together and achieve something half as impressive as what he does every day.

We sit down, and there are a few moments of silence as we dig into our rich meal like we’ve not eaten in a week.

“How about you?” Chris nudges me with his elbow to get my attention.

“Nothing to report, same old, same old.”

Mum jokingly rolls her eyes. “You say that every time.”

“Sorry, my life isn’t as exciting as yours. I work nights and I spend my days sleeping. Then, on my days off, my body clock is fucked, so I’m too knackered to go anywhere.” I sound like a whiny bitch; even I can hear it.

“Maybe it’s time to look for something else. You know I don’t mind helping you out for a few months until you find your feet,” Chris suggests for the hundredth time.

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