Page 67 of A Brother's Secret

I nodded. “New garage door, new, more energy-efficient windows, and it’s been painted.”

“The inside isn’t going to be the same at all, is it?” she asked and she sounded almost sad… disappointed.

“No, but some things are. I promise.”

She took a deep breath and steeled herself. I held out a hand and she reached out, our fingers tangling together. I hoped she liked it inside, but I’d had to change things. Make the house mine and transition it away from being my parent’s. I was living alone in this giant space with these old ghosts and it wasn’t healthy. I needed to make some changes, but I’d been pretty resistant to some things. Some things I kept as close to exactly the same as I could. Mostly, those were the spaces Mali and I had spent the most timein.

“I guess I’m ready,” she declared. “If that’s what you’re waitingfor.”

“No, just soaking up the moment. I mean, you’re here, you’re home with me, and I can’t really tell you how long I’ve waited forthis.”

I swept a hand through my hair, chasing it back in front and out of my eyes. She nodded, her eyes traveling over my face and she smiled. “I’ve been waiting just as long,” she said and her voice was light, not judgey, not accusatory, just a gentle and sweet reminder. A reminder that though I’d felt alone all that time, she’d been with me in feeling the same things wherever she’d been at in the world.

We still had so much catching up to do… Now we were finally in a place where we could doit.

“Hungry?” I asked, leading her up the steps and into the house. She stopped inside the door, standing in the entry hall and gazing toward the living room, her eyes roving the familiar room with its unfamiliar furniture.

“There are more pictures on the walls,” she said softly, turning to look at the hall walls and past the banister to the stairs to the walls beyondit.

“More living happened. You know my mom and pictures.”

“Yeah.”

She went to one, drifting away from me, her fingers slipping from mine and I let her go to it. She touched the frame with a gentle fingertip and her eyes grew wet with a lightmist.

“I remember this. We went to the carnival, what werewe?”

“Seven, I think.”

“Your dad bought us cotton candy, and you wanted to go on the Gravitron… that ride that used centrifugal force, remember?”

“Oh, god! Don’t remind me!” I groaned and clutched my stomach. She laughed.

“We came down off those panels and you staggered outside and barely made the trashcan!”

“Everything was blue and I freakedout.”

“Never made fun of you for crying, though.”

“No, you neverdid…”

“Your parents were so cool about it, too.” She looked wistful and I went to her, pulling her into my arms. She rested her head on my shoulder and her arms dipped beneath my jacket and cut, close to my body, taking advantage of the warmth and closeness. I laid my cheek on her hair and twisted gently, back and forth, rocking her and she worked through some of her sorrow. I know I was working on mine. The grief of lost time, lost memories, mourning the death of what could havebeen…

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said softly, after atime.

“Not hungry,” she whispered. “Just so tired…”

“Bed, then?”

“Yeah. Sleep sounds really good. I wish I were up for something elsebut…”

“Hush, plenty of time for all of that, later. Right now I’d be good with you naked against me and like a solid week’s worth of sleep.”

She groaned, “God that sounds so good. I mean, is it always like this with them? Go, go, and go, all thetime?”

“No. Wasn’t my first choice either, baby; you can trust me onthat.”

“No, no, I believe it,” she let her breath out in a huge rush of warm air, “Just… I’m tired.”

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