Page 65 of Nothing To Lose
"He's first generation American. His parents are originally from Denmark, I think. And Mac is actually Julien Maclan. He's from Queens."
"Well, they seem wonderful."
"They are. And you'd like their daughter Brenna," Tyler says to Chelsey. "I think she's only a year or so younger than you."
I shake my head emphatically. "No. You absolutely cannot be friends with Brenna. I'd never have a moment's peace." That girl teases me almost as much as my sister does. It's probably why I find her so endearing, but I'd never admit it.
Chelsey side-eyes Tyler, and he gives her a signal that he'll take care of it. Brats.
Mom tries to steer the conversation back to learning more about Tyler, but he deflects a lot of her questions to get her talking about me. That earns a few stories about my dumbass teenage years and the trouble I used to get in.
"He was a good boy, though. Always so responsible." She reaches over to pat my hand, eyes welling up with tears. "He took care of us, you know. After his father died. I was a mess, and Chelsey was still so young. Isaac sacrificed everything to take care of us, to keep our family together."
I give her a sympathetic look, trying to think of a way to divert the conversation. I know she's thinking about how child protective services had checked in on us, because one of Chelsey's teachers thought Mom was a drunk and not caring for her. I was keeping us fed, but that was about it. That's when I started noticing the state of Chelsey's hair and clothes, and whether she was in extracurricular activities. That was about the time I quit school, too.
"My boy will always take care of the people he loves, even to his own detriment. I'm so happy he's finally following his dreams. And I'm even happier that he's found you."
Tyler ducks his head, smiling and giving my knee a comforting bump with his.
"But I want to know more about you. I know you're a grad student and you used your genius to help design Isaac's layout. Your parents must be so proud." She's clearly not caught on to the way Tyler has been avoiding talking about his home or childhood.
Tyler clears his throat awkwardly, and I make a cutting gesture under my neck.
Mom looks bewildered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to touch on a sore subject."
"It's okay. My father and I don't see eye to eye," he says simply. "And it's just him. No other parent."
Mom furrows her brow, looking thoughtful, then determined. I'm not sure exactly what she thinks the story is, but she understands well enough to know that Tyler doesn't have a family like ours. She doesn't hesitate to reach over and take Tyler’s hands. "Sweetie, if you'll have me, you've got a mama now. You're part of this family. No matter what happens between you and my grump of a son, you're welcome here. Always."
Tyler looks stunned, his eyes darkening to a watery blue. He swallows thickly and takes a breath, relaxing into my side. "Thank you. That means a lot."
After a long moment of tense, emotional silence, Chelsey speaks up, "Okay, so I need to know. Who's more annoying, Isaac when he's in a bad mood, or Isaac when he's trying to act all tough?"
The rest of the night goes off without a hitch. We stay up talking and laughing until it's obvious Mom is starting to fade. I shoo her off to bed, and the three of us clean up the kitchen. When it's just pots and pans left to wash, I show Tyler where the bathroom is so he can get ready for bed.
"Everything going okay here?" I ask Chelsey, because I know she won’t say anything unless she's prodded. Can't imagine where she'd get that from.
She tries to wave me off, but I know her tells. "What is it?"
Chels sighs. "The roof is sagging. It's bad in the back corner in mama's room."
Oof. That's not good. "How bad is it?"
"I had a roofer come out, and he said we need a whole new roof. It's stupid expensive though." No kidding, a new roof would probably cost more than this place is worth.
"I'll figure something out," I tell her.
"Isaac–"
"I'll handle it," I assure her. Her shoulders sag. I know she doesn't like bringing me into things like this, but no matter how far away I live, this is my family. They're my responsibility, and I love them. "I'll see what I can do short term, and we'll come up with a plan," I tell her, knowing that making it aweissue and not ajust meissue will get her to accept my help more willingly. Not that she has a choice, but there's less feelings on the matter this way.
Dishes done, we head to our respective bedrooms.
"Goodnight, Tyler!" she calls into my room.
"Goodnight Chels," he returns. He sounds like he's halfway to sleep already.
"And just so you know, these walls are paper thin. I've already been subjected to years of hearing my brother jerk off. So if y'all are gonna fuck, bite a pillow or somethin’. I'll probably still hear everything though, and I'll comment on your form and stamina tomorrow over breakfast."
