Page 6 of A Brother's Secret

“Look, get a hot shower, I’ll get the clothes you’re in washed up in the laundry here… for now…” I flipped open one of the packs I’d shoved into the saddlebags on my bike. My shit had been gone through but nothing was missing and I had a sneaking feeling that’s why the older guy back at the exit point I’d chosen had let us go. I pulled out a pair of my boxers and one of my black wife-beater tanks and handed them over. “This is the best I’vegot.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she said quietly and whatever hint of vulnerability that’d been in her voice minutes before was firmly locked behind a new veneer of steely resolve.

“Bathroom’s there, just throw your clothes out the open door. You’regood.”

She jolted like she hadn’t realized she’d just been standing there staring at me and took the shiny, nickel plated revolver out of the back of her waistband and went with my wadded up offering of dry clothes in her other hand to the dark portal of the bathroom door. She reached in and flipped on the light, letting her eyes roam over every corner and then finally stepped in. I heard the shower curtain rattle then the click of the gun against the countertop. The door shut, leaving about a five-inch gap and after some rustling, a handful of clothing appeared.

I went over and took it, keeping my back turned, which was hard for me, and held out the arm that I had her shirt and bra over. I heard her kick off her boots and her jeans flopped over my elbow.

I think she snorted and she said, “Not exactly body shy as an adult.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I am,” I said with a ruegrin.

“Huh,” was her soft reply and the light from the bathroom dimmed as she swung the door an inch from closed and the water started up in thebath.

“Be back in a little bit,” I promised.

“Bring food?” she calledback.

“You gotit.”

I switched out my own wet gear for some dry drawstring pants and another one of my undershirt tank tops. Dry was only half the battle, though. I went in search of the laundry facility with a Ziploc sandwich bag full of quarters and got it going in one load with some of the shitty powdered soap that came from the dispenser. Someone had one of the dryers going in here and so I lingered, giving the wash enough time to finish washing while I soaked up the warmth and smell of clean clothes.

I was pretty sure Mail was going to kill every bit of hot water anyway, and I needed to think, which was tough with her right there. I was torn about that, too. Seventeen years I had been dreaming about that face and now that it was right in front of me, I needed a minute away from it to get my shit straight.

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