Page 25 of Like You Want It
I look at her and see her eyes glassing up. But she doesn’t say anything, just storms from the table and back towards the two bedrooms at the rear of the apartment.
Fin and I watch her go until her door closes softly behind her.
We’re both silent for a minute. Until I feel like Fin might need someone to confirm to him that he is, in fact, a pretty big douchewhip right now.
“You know, I’ve always thought a slamming door was better at proving your point in a fight than a quiet one,” I say, “until I realized that a slamming door meant irrational behavior and a quietly closed door meant disappointment and pain.”
Fin uncrosses his arms and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and folding his hands together.
Whatever he’s preparing to say, I don’t want to hear it. So I put my hands up to indicate he shouldn’t say anything.
Shockingly, he stays silent.
“Look, Fin. Clearly you have a really poor opinion of me. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, other than a little good-natured ribbing that you seem to be incapable of handling or playing along with. And to be honest, I don’t really care if you have a poor opinion of me or think I’m a drug dealer or a prostitute or whatever horrible expectation you have.
“But I do really like your sister. She seems like a really nice person. Maybe a little shy at times, but undoubtedly a wonderful human with a big and sensitive heart. So I just want to be clear that all of your glares and weird statements and accusations aren’t going to make me not be friends with her. You can continue being a complete and utter dickbag to me, or you can try to be friendly. But I can promise you one of those things will cause a lot more unneeded tension than the other.”
I take a sip of my wine, then set my cup down and rise from the table.
“I’m gonna go check on Susie, so she knows that the fact her brother decided to spill her secrets isn’t going to mean her new friend is gonna bail. Feel free to sit out here and wonder whether I’m in there slipping her a bump.”
His mouth goes slightly slack, but I don’t stick around to hear whatever he has to say next. Instead, I cross the living room and walk down the short hallway to the closed door.
I tap a few times, lightly, and then open it when I don’t hear anything.
“Susie?” I whisper. “Susie Q? You here?”
I hear a sniffle from the corner and I turn my head to see her sitting against a wall next to her bedside table, arms wrapped around her knees.
I slip in the room without much noise, and walk over and take a seat next to her, stretching my short little legs out in front of me.
After a few minutes, where I can see Susie trying to quietly pull herself together, I finally break the silence.
“I have an older brother. I mentioned him briefly the other night. Caleb?”
She doesn’t say anything but I see a tiny nod from her head.
“Well, we used to be really close when we were kids, even though there’s an eight year age gap between us. Most kids who are only ten when their brothers go off to college can’t say they know them very well. But I could. He used to come home from college and take me to get ice cream. Or he’d pick me up and take me back to school and I’d get to stay in his fraternity with him. That was a horrible choice, and he realized it when, after a few visits, I saw his roommate having sex.”
Susie snorts and I take that as a positive.
“But things are different now. He’s got this fiancé who hates me, and a daughter that is so adorable, and even though I love him the same, our relationship is different. It probably won’t ever be the same as it was when we were younger. You know? You can only allow someone to tell you that you’re a totally brainless fuckup so many times before you realize the relationship is just going to be different than what it used to be.”
“He said that to you?” she asks, her brow furrowed and mouth open in disbelief.
I shake my head. “Not in those words. But in a vague way. He implies I’m too stupid to get my life together. Or that I’m not serious about anything.”
I turn and look at her. “What I’m trying to say, and probably failing at, really hard, is that brothers are imperfect.Peopleare imperfect. They say stupid things, sometimes in the heat of the moment and sometimes without realizing they’re hurting you. But the good thing? I can tell,totally tell, without a shadow of a doubt, that your brother loves you. He might have been an idiot just now, but his motivation was in the right place.”
She nods, though it’s a small movement.
“It’s completely up to you, though, to tell him how it made you feel. Because if it made you feel bad, and you never really communicate that, it never has the chance to change.”
She gives me a soft smile. “Did it work with your brother?”
I shrug. “I’m trying. But I waited a really long time to say anything, so he kinda got used to saying whatever he wanted without any idea it was hurting me. I’m trying to sort that all out now. We’ll see how it goes.”
She bumps me with her shoulder. “You’re pretty smart, you know?”
