Page 36 of The Wrong Brother

“Why, Raff? What could that kid have possibly done to make you act like this?”

“Catherine.” My shoulders droop. A look passes between my parents that feels significant except I don’t know what it means. “He…she was crying. He made her think she’s not good enough. Like there’s something wrong with her because she’s smart and good at math! And then when I told him to leave her alone he called her a stuck-up bitch! Hehurther!” I’m getting angry again. I clench my fists. I’m bracing for the lecture, worried about the punishment, but Dad simply gives me a curt nod and tells me to get cleaned up. His disappointment is palpable. Once again, I’ve proven that I’m a mess, that I’ll never be as good as Griffin. Disappointing has become a character trait. I trudge upstairs, all the anger replaced by despondency.

It turns out losing paddling is a big enough punishment on its own. It was the one thing at school I liked. The only place where I fit in. Art is solitary. paddling gave me teammates and friends. I don’t think I’d change it, even if I could go back. I can’t imagine holding Catherine while she cried and having any other reaction. I can’t regret that part. Makani did leave her alone after that. But life as I knew it, the way I planned it, was over.

21

rafferty

Taking Mina’s advice and focusing on wooing Catherine is no hardship. I’ve enjoyed thinking about what she would like and trying to treat her, even if her responses have made it difficult not to push for more. Catherine deserves more than that. I’d rather abandon all of this right now than let her think that I’m simply using this situation to get her into bed.

I know we had dinner last night, but I couldn’t wait to see her again so I have something planned for tonight too. I’ve just finished up a session with my rowdy windward group made up of a couple of female naval officers, two navy spouses, and one boyfriend. They’re teasing me mercilessly like they always do as I find a place in the shade to text Catherine before driving to my next client.

Me:I have tickets to something special at 7 tonight.

My Queen:Cool, hope you have fun

My Queen:If only someone had asked me out, I might have had plans to see something special too…

Me:Very funny. Let me try that again.

Me:I have tickets to something special at 7 tonight if you would do me the honor of being my date.

My Queen:Who, me!?!?

My Queen:[shocked face gif]

Me:As if I’d want to go out with anyone else

My Queen:Good. That’s what I like to hear. And I’d love to.

My Queen:I was thinking about picking up some poke bowls, do you want to have lunch with me?

Me:Aw man, I’d love to but I have clients for the next 4 hours.

My Queen:Are you going to shower and get ready over here?

Me:Is that ok?

My Queen:Of course! Why don’t we eat an early dinner here, before whatever it is you have planned?

Me:Sounds perfect

My Queen:see you then xx

I spend way too much time looking at those two little x’s, wondering how much weight to give them, wanting them to mean something while worrying that they don’t mean anything at all. It’s easier to focus on my clients and their specific training needs, but in the background, I’m obsessing over those letters. Less irksome is the pleasant buzzing anticipation. It’s nice having something to look forward to. Not even the worry about not having a place scheduled for tonight can keep me down because, up until that point, I get to be with Catherine.

I crank the AC in my car up as high as it will go on my drive over, trying desperately to cool down. There’s no hope for me, though. I’ve been sweating in the spring sunshine all day and there is no disguising that. Catherine’s door is barely open and she’s taking my bag and ignoring how I must look and smell to kiss me. I’d like to ignore it too and get lost in how she tastes, but I’m too aware of how gross I am. She hands me a large glass of ice water with another small peck on my lips.

“Hold that thought,” she says, a smile pulling her lips across mine before she backs away. “Drink your water, take a shower, and come find me when you’re done.” She walks down the hall, deposits my bag in the bathroom, and gives me a little wave before disappearing into her bedroom.

Between drinking the ice water and the nice, cool shower, I come out of her bathroom 15 minutes later feeling entirely refreshed. I’m still not entirely cool, though. Squeezing the excess moisture from my hair, I leave my damp towel on the washing machine, my shirt still in my hand. Catherine is sprawled out across her bed, reading. She sees me in the doorway and pats the spot on her bed next to her. I sit and she scoots until her head is resting on my leg.

“Feel better?”

“Much.” I reach down, letting her silky waves slip through my fingers. I’m still playing with her hair, mesmerized by how the movement changes the tones of gold reflecting the sunlight, when she smooths her fingertips across my chest, tracing the letters on my tattoo.

“To be rather than to seem, ya?” She responds to the surprise she must read on my face. “I looked it up. It suits you.” Her fingertips keep moving, cool on my skin, stopping on the Hawaiian flowers that surround the banner that stretches across my chest, from shoulder to shoulder. “These are beautiful. Haliconia and pikake. I’ve always loved the different varieties of ginger.” Her fingers pause over each one, caressing gently as she names them. “Hawaiian pink ginger always makes me think of Mina. But these, beehive ginger, are my favorite.”

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