Page 8 of Nigel

“You got aproblem with that?”

“I do, if Ifind out that you are here to babysit me. I saw you, Lionel andJeffry huddled together when we were eating.”

“Not everythingis about you.” He dodged the cushion she threw at him. “Youraim is off.” He grinned and did not quite manage to doge thenext cushion. “You are making a mess.”

“Which you willhave to clean up before you leave.”

“And if I amspending the night?” His tone was casual as he trailed a fingerdown the condensation on the can.

“Oh no, you arenot,” she told him firmly. “Damn it, Kyle, I am fine. Iam not going to sit here and wallow in grief and you have a wife andchild to go home to.”“They are having a girl’s dayand I want to hang out with my sister.”

“Your sister isfine. We all lost her Kyle. Not just me.”

“You were theone living with her. We all left to go on with our own lives and youstayed.”

“Because Iwanted to. I was not married and had no children, and this house wastoo big for one person.”

“And when shetook ill and could not move around much, you were here. You spent thelast six months tending to her.”

“You think Iregretted it?” She gave him an incredulous look.

“I neverthought you did and would never say that. None of us would.” Heset the can down with a snap, dark brown eyes sizzling. “I donot appreciate you putting words in my damn mouth.”

She eyed him for amoment before sighing. “I know you and the others feel guiltybecause I was the one taking care of her. Lionel had his practice todeal with and so did you. And Jeffry was very busy fighting crime. Ioffered to stay here, remember?”

“You had yourbusiness to deal with too,” he pointed out.

“I was moreflexible.”

“I don’twant you to think that what you do is any way less than what we do.”

She smiled at that.“You know better than that.” She took a long swallow ofthe beer and put the can away. “Look, I wanted to spend timewith mama. It took years for me to realize the enormous sacrifice shemade to take care of us.

She was uneducatedbut knew the advantage of having one. She worked her ass off and tooka lot of crap from rich people just so that she could take care ofher children. And I-“She waved a hand, regret rippling over herface.

“I fought withher Kyle. Everything was an argument and it must have been prettyexhausting. I hated being poor and wearing clothes from thriftstores. I hated eating mac and cheese every damn day.

The only variationwas roast chicken and broccoli on Sundays. Or seeing her take homethe leftovers from those rich people.” She lifted a shoulderand then let it fall restlessly, her eyes shadowed.

This afternoon hadbeen emotional and had brought them even closer. The memories hadbeen many and some of them had humor interwoven. But there was theguilt that she had not done enough and had made her mother’slife even more difficult.

“You were justacting out,” her brother responded loyally.

She sent him a wrylook. “And you never could be objective when it came to me. Youalways take my side.”

“You are mysister,” he said simply. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me when Iam being a bitch.”

“That’s agiven,” he grinned at her.

“You don’thave to stay.”

“Would itmatter if I said I needed to stay for me?” He looked around thecozy room. The family room was a large one. When Lionel had boughtthe house, he had hired a contractor with vision and skills. The manhad suggested opening up the room and adding more space and it hadbeen a very good idea.

The walls were asmooth teal blue and the fireplace took up one entire section of theroom. Instead of the tiles that had been there before, they had putin a hardwood floor that now gleamed with loving care.

Their mother hadtaken care of the place, reluctantly giving into the pressure ofhaving someone coming in to do the heavy cleaning twice a week. Shehad made throw rugs and colorful quilts, protesting that she wasgoing to have to do something to pass the time.

---