Page 28 of The Wrong Brother

“Am I allowed to display the patch? I loved Dirk Gently and want to see more. Does that mean we’re still Hug Friends?”

“For sure. Founding members! I’m not entirely sure we should add any other members though. Two feels like a nice, even number.” Her smile is soft.

“I’m happy with just the two of us. I don’t need anyone else.”

It feels both liberating and dishonest to be able to tell Catherine how I truly feel. It’s nice to finally be able to say these things out loud. At times it can feel almost worse than keeping them to myself since she doesn’t know how much I mean it. We watch another episode and I tell Catherine I need to get going. She’s been yawning, I don’t want to keep her up. We agree we’ll keep in touch but likely won’t see each other until the double date on Thursday.

She walks me to the door and for just a moment I let myself forget that we have rules and expectations and parameters for what is appropriate. I let myself feel that I’m leaving my girl after a relaxed, perfect evening together. She’s standing there, the physical embodiment of everything I’ve ever wanted and I can’t help myself. I pull her close and kiss her the way she kissed me in Safeway—slow and sweet with light explorations that make me feel a little drunk. Stopping takes a monumental effort but I don’t feel as guilty when Catherine’s dazed expression mirrors how I feel. I drive to Nu‘uanu to crash, the taste of Catherine on my lips.

16

catherine

Outside of the minor anxiety attack, grocery shopping with Rafferty was thoroughly enjoyable. By the end, it didn’t feel like acting. I forgot we were supposed to be trying to look like a real couple. The way he physically put himself between me and Pressley, making me feel safe, and then told her off left me riding high through the next day. I swear I relived the look on her face as often as I revisited our kisses.

By Wednesday night, though, worry starts to set in. The victory felt so sweet I forgot what my ex-roommate/friend is like. She’s not likely to let that pass. She’ll be looking for any weakness because we made it personal. It could be a larger quantity of letters. Or nastier subjects, picking me apart and preying on what she knows I’m sensitive about like the more recent one. Or something worse I can’t even imagine. I’m not sure that the temporary joy I felt at seeing her knocked down a peg was worth what could be coming my way. I can’t regret it though, as much as I likely need to, because Rafferty was protecting me. It’s part of who he is. And I like who he is.

Love:Did you pick a book for me to read?

Me:I’m trying to decide—most of my favorites are part of long, interconnected series. I’m not sure I want to go that route this first time

Love:I’ll read whatever you recommend

Me:I’ll choose something and have it for you tomorrow. I want to think about it a little more.

Me:It’s too much pressure! What if you hate it?

Love:It’s just a book, Catherine. And it can be anything. Any genre. If you like it I’ll read it

Me:Ok. Tomorrow then

Talking about tomorrow makes me remember we hadn’t heard specific details from my sister yet.

Me:What are we doing tomorrow? Are there plans?

Mina:Let’s stay in. Come to my place. We’ll get food, hang out, whatever.

Me:If you’re sure. What time?

Mina:6:30

That somehow feels more nerve-wracking than convincing Griffin we’re a legit couple at a restaurant or other public place. I wish we had made different plans but it’s too late now.

Me:6:30 at Mina’s tomorrow.

Love:Do you want me to meet you at yours to walk over together?

Me:That sounds nice. See you around 6?

Love:See you then

I will be glad when tax season is over! I don’t prepare taxes for all of my clients—some prefer to have a separate, tax-specific accountant—but I do handle quite a few. None of them have needed extensions filed this year, either, so for the next couple of weeks, I am very busy. I enjoy the work but I don’t like the atmosphere of frenzy around the office. Things are always a bit frenetic leading up to mid-April and the energy makes me feel on edge. It’s the only time of the year that I need a full, complete break between my work and home life. I don’t take any work home and I force myself to turn my accountant brain off when I walk out those doors. Otherwise, I bring that extra stress with me and I live for a couple of months feeling like I’m on the verge of a panic attack. My nerves get frazzled and I start dreaming of fainting couches and smelling salts, wishing I could take to my bed because of my “fragile feminine nerves” and then laughing at myself like a crazy person. It’s not a good look.

My day is slammed and I end up leaving much later than I had intended. I’m so focused on the tasks at hand I don’t think to text Rafferty and let him know I’m running late. I even suck as a fake girlfriend! Fingers crossed he used his key and let himself in. I hate to think of him standing around in the hallway or parking lot waiting for me. At this rate, we’ll barely have time to walk over to Mina’s. I was looking forward to having that time, just the two of us, to mentally prepare before spending the evening with our siblings. I’m more nervous about being a couple in front of Griffin than maybe anyone outside of the engagement party. His opinion has always meant a lot to me and I don’t like the idea of lying to him. I also might feel an extra sense of unnecessary responsibility after breaking up with him.

It’s after 6 when I finally park in my spot and race upstairs. I unlock my apartment and it smells fresh and clean. There’s music playing but I don’t see Rafferty anywhere. It looks like he even picked up my mail for me as there’s a stack on the entry table. I spot one of the familiar envelopes and my stomach tenses. Ripping open the envelope, I spy the looping handwriting and see enough to know that it’s about me always being cheated on. I don’t have time for this shit. I shove it in my purse and try to dismiss it from my mind.

“Rafferty?”

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