Page 46 of Castaway Whirlwind
Shocked to the tips of my toes by Russell’s jump to conclusions and defensiveness, thinking the worst of my brother, I’m rooted to the floor briefly. But since I don’t want the first time I’ve seen Max in so long to end on yet another sour note, I push between them once more.
“No. No guns.” I give Russell a pleading look to calm down,then gesture to Max. “Please, come inside. I’ll explain.”
“I don’t know.” As if he’s considering leaving, Max roughly combs his loose, curly brown hair back on his head, and he looks off to the side at his car parked next to Russell’s truck. With its mismatched red and gray parts, his car is in as bad of shape as mine, the front bumper hanging on byduct tape and a prayer, as Davis would say.
“Please. I’ll talk to him,” I say, as if Russell isn’t standing right next to us and can’t hear me.
Max takes a long moment to answer but eventually nods. He waves to someone in his front seat, and my brows shoot up when a young woman with nearly-black hair pulled into a high, messy bun slides out of the front seat in leggings and one of Max’s hoodies, then opens the back passenger door.
Max waits for the woman on my stoop, and he waves her over again, sliding his arm around her shoulders. It’s the tiny bundle in her arms that has hot tears welling in my eyes, and I stop breathing, trying to hold them back. “You had a baby?”
Max gives me a solemn nod. “This is Cora and our son, Gauge.”Gauge. It’s the name our dad wanted to name Max, which Mom hated, saying it was—ironically—a ridiculous name. “We didn’t find out she was pregnant ‘til a few months before she gave birth.”
Trying unsuccessfully to mask the hurt evident in my voice, I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Honestly, I was trying to protect you and didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You know, because of your…” Max trails off with a sympathetic smile, tiptoeing around my struggles.
“Of course I would want to know.” I don’t know what else to say, still trying to keep strict control of my emotions.
In tune with my inner spiraling, Russell tells Max and Cora, “We just woke up, and Layla has to get to work soon, so how ‘bout we meet up later tonight? Grab dinner close to wherever y’all are staying.”
The corners of Cora’s lips turn down when she glances at Max. “I thought you said she’d let us—”
Max clears his throat, cutting her a hard look reminiscent of our dad.
That’s what reminds me of my familial duties, and I force myself to repeat, “Please, um, come inside.” I can’t look away from the tiny infant in the white onesie and little fuzzy socks when they step past me into my apartment.
A muscle works in Russell’s jaw when Max stands in the middle of the room and spins in a slow circle, appraising my apartment, Cora doing the same. I take the opportunity to quickly clean up and get changed into my diner uniform for my early lunch shift, pull on my GRANNY’S GIRLS hoodie for modesty, and blot the corners of my eyes with a hand towel so I don’t ruin my eyeliner.
When I rejoin them, Russell has at least pulled on a shirt, and Max says, “Well, it’s certainly cozy in here.” It’s his nice way of sayingtiny.
“Sorry,” I say, though I’m not sure why.
Russell grunts, dropping his arm over my shoulders. “Don’t apologize.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’m going to hop in the shower real quick.”
“Good idea,” I whisper, my cheeks turning warm when he taps my bottom discreetly before grabbing his duffel bag.
Cora takes a seat on the edge of my bed, cradling Gauge on her lap while she pushes the heel of her palm into her tired hazel eyes. Max sits next to her, leaning back on his hands. I cringe internally, wishing I knew they were coming so I couldat least change the bedsheets, hoping they don’t notice my teddy bear in the corner.
“So, that guy…” Max tips his head toward the bathroom when the shower kicks on.
I drag a kitchen chair closer to the bed so I can take a seat, tugging on the hem of my dress to cover my thighs, wishing it were longer. “Russell.”
“You really traded Steven in for an old guy likehim?” He tsks with disapproval. “He have money you’re after or something?”
“No, it’s not like that.” I may be two years older than Max, but right now, I feel like the younger sibling. I don’t tell him that Russelldoeshave money since that would give him the wrong impression—make him think I’m like Mom, which neither of us would want. “And I didn’t ‘trade’ Steven in or kick him out if that’s what you’re thinking. He kickedmeout.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Oh, yeah? And who’d you hear it from?” Russell must have sped through his shower, dropping into the middle of our conversation, wearing dark blue jeans and one of his nicer light-brown button-downs tucked in at the waist. He stands like a sentinel behind me, with one hand on my shoulder and the other lightly gripping the back of my neck.
“Steven,” Max answers as if it should have been obvious.
Russell asks, “Before or after he was arrested for drunk driving?”
I’m more interested inwhyMax was talking to Steven. “I didn’t know y’all kept contact.”
“Well, sure we did. He’s family, and you don’t abandon family. You know that better than anyone else,” Max says, bunching his brows, a gaping pit forming in my stomach. “Though he had to have some chick call me. Let me know his fiancée was running around on him behind his back. Said you even lied about how much he’d been drinking so he’d get arrested when he confronted you.” He reaches for my hand. “To say I was concerned my sister could do something like that to the man who took her in when she was down on her luck, did so much for her, is an understatement.”
