Page 47 of More Than Pen Pals
“Couldn’t he do that if he wanted to?” It’s what he used to want to do. Does he not want to anymore? His first letter should shed some light on the topic.
“You haven’t met Walter Hamilton yet, have you?”
“Walter … oh, his dad?”
“Indeed.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“If you had, you’d understand. And there would be nothing pleasurable about it.”
“Yikes.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself. You’re in for a rude awakening with the future in-laws.”
twenty-four
When I leave Leslie’s, my car heads toward Randall’s apartment, which is only a handful of blocks from her place but in the opposite direction of home. I guess I’m going to make good on my promise and talk to him about this.
All the doormen in my brother’s building know me and always wave me through whether he’s home or not, but I ask tonight’s guy to call up and warn Randall I’m coming. I have zero desire to walk in on him and Colleen in a compromising position.
I knock and then hear my brother faintly telling me to enter, so I fish my keys out of my pocket and let myself in. He’s lounging on his black leather couch in nothing but a pair of boxers while watching SportsCenter and drinking a Budweiser. I drop onto the matching love seat.
“What’s up?” He takes a swig from his bottle. I doubt it’s his first of the evening. “Girl trouble? Tell your big brother all about it.”
“How much have you had to drink?” I’m not going to talk to him if he’s half drunk.
“This is only my second.”
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Maybe my third.”
“Why do you do this?”
“Do what? Let loose? Have a little fun? You should try it sometime.”
“I see no evidence of you letting loose and having fun at the moment.”
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes. “Colleen canceled on me tonight. Fourth time in two weeks. I don’t know what’s going on.”
Colleen is not my favorite person. My brother deserves much better, but if I say so, he’ll only defend her, which will annoy me. “Is this why you refused to promise Mom you two would go to her dinner party Saturday night?”
“Partly.” He takes another swig.
“What’s the other part?”
“I figured you didn’t want any more of an audience to the set-up she’s forcing on you.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
He taps his fingernail on the beer bottle. “I know what Melissa did to you back in junior high.”
My back stiffens. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“How do you know about that?”
