Page 20 of The Boyfriend List
“Thank you.” Paulo’s tone is calmer. I swear I hear him taking notes as we speak.
“Please don’t stalk him on the internet.”
“Too late, I already found his baby pictures on Facebook.”
My laugh is more like a cackle. “You did not!”
“No, but it was fun making you think I did.”
“Paulo,” I whine. “Please don’t embarrassme.”
“How could I? You live all the way in L.A. What would I do, fly over there to threaten this Lindon guy? What kind of name isLindon, anyway?”
“It’s better than Jeb,” I mumble with a laugh.
“Okay, tell Lindon or Landon or whatever his name is that you have a scary older brother who will break his bones if he hurts you.”
“Paulo, you’re a doctor and you made an oath to do no harm.”
“Maybe, but I can set his bones after I break them. I’ll just do it without painkillers.”
I chuckle at the thought of my mild-mannered doctor brother actually breaking a man’s bones or even getting into a fistfight. “Have you ever been in a physical fight in your life?”
“Last week Eddie and I wrestled in the backyard.”
“Who won?”
“…Him.”
“Point proven.”
I always feel the urge to best my older brother. Maybe it’s a lifetime of being compared to him or just plain ole sibling rivalry, but I’m always trying to one-up him, even though he’s ten years older than me. Growing up in his shadow wasn’t easy. Not that I’ll ever tell him that, since he’s such a great older brother. Not every teenage boy would be willing to play princess tea party with their five-year-old little sister. Or give me piggyback rides all the time until the day I moved out.
“Anyways, if I come home in November, will I meet this girl you’ve been seeing?” I ask, changing the subject from his lack of physical prowess at fighting.
“Maybe. Only if you ask nicely and promise not to embarrass me in front of her.”
“What if I just promise not to totally humiliate you in front of her by challenging you to an arm wrestle?”
“Gloria, I think I would beat you in an arm wrestle. You’re not Eddie.”
“Wait, you lost to Eddie in an arm wrestle? You’re like, twenty years older than him.” I burst out laughing at the mental image of him arm-wrestling our little cousin and losing.
“You know, if you’re going to keep making fun of me, I think I’ll just hang up now,” he says in a bored tone.
“No, no, please don’t leave me here. I have to work on this stupid case and I need someone to distract me from the fact that I have no social life.”
“Gloria, I love you, but I have a shift to get to andIactually have a social life,” he says with a chuckle.
I sigh. “Fine, fine. Have a good shift. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
After hanging up with Paulo, I give up on getting any more work done for the night. Instead, I check my email. To my surprise, a notification about a job application pops up. I guess I never closed my Indeed job applications for lawyer-related jobs in my area despite having had this job for almost two years now.
I check the description instead of deleting it. It’s from a local nonprofit that serves those who can’t afford legal counsel. Interesting. I bookmark the email to respond to later, and then wonder why I’m doing so.
The promotion coming up should be an easy sell. I shouldn’t be distracted by thoughts of discontentment or other jobs. I have everything I should want: a great job that pays well, affordable rent, a family who loves me, and friends that I adore.
