Page 105 of Roommate
And I’m just as bad. Every time I think I can stop giggling, I picture Kieran tossing a handful of glitter and...
Yup. Laughing again.
We keep it up until the hospital doors slide open, expelling an elderly couple who give us a stare. Only then can we dial it back. Kieran squeezes my hand as we catch our breath.
I hold his tightly, too. I drop it as the doors slide open again to reveal a very pissed-off Kyle Shipley, with Griffin bringing up the rear. They’re both wearing Red Cross stickers on their flannel shirts.
“There you are,” Kyle says, breathless. “What the hell just happened?”
“Easy,” Griffin says, a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Maybe Kieran doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah? Well, not talking about it doesn’t work so well, does it? We play this weird game of telephone at our house. Our father prefers me and our mother loves Kieran best and everyone is tense and weird from dawn till dusk. And my whole life nobody would ever say why. And you—” He pokes a finger into his brother’s chest. “You always assume I can’t tell. Like I’m deaf and blind.”
Kieran looks uneasy. “Well, you have the privilege of pretending everything is fine.”
“The privilege,” Kyle scoffs. “Like I can’t tell when Dad is angry and Mom is stressed. I act the way I act because someone has to be the rodeo clown. Would you step up and run that shit show if you were always kept in the dark like me?”
Kieran puts his hands on top of his head and sighs. “No. I guess I wouldn’t.”
“I notice plenty, okay? Like you’re in love with your roommate, for example.”
“What?” Kieran blinks.
Griffin smiles. And I clamp a hand over my mouth.
“You heard me,” Kyle bellows. “I see things. I know things. Not that anyone ever bothers to bring me up to speed. What happened back there, anyway? I mean, I was there when you were born. How the hell are you not—” Kyle catches himself before he finishes the sentence. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
“I do,” Griff says quietly. With one of his lumberjack arms, he steers Kyle away from his brother. Then he grabs Kieran into a tight hug. “Love you, brother. Whatever bullshit happened before you were born wouldn’t change that.”
Kieran gulps audibly, and my eyes feel hot all of a sudden. “Love. You. Too,” Kieran grunts, although this display of verbal emotion almost kills him.
“Okay. Okay,” Kyle says from the sidelines. “As usual, Griff is better at this than any of us. And here I am yelling at you.” He sighs. “I’m sorry.”
Griffin steps back, then whacks Kyle on the shoulder. “It’s a hard day. Take a breath. And maybe it isn’t Kieran’s job to explain your parents’ past.”
“Good point,” I say, even though nobody asked me.
The hospital doors open up again, and Grandpa Shipley appears. “He’s out of surgery!” the old man yells. “And stable!”
All three Shipley cousins sag with relief. “Finally,” Kyle says, and then gallops toward the doors.
Griffin squints at Kieran. “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “But I do not want to go back in there right now.”
“Your dad won’t be awake, or seeing people for a while,” Griffin says. “Take a breather.” He gives Kieran’s shoulder one more squeeze, claps me on the back, and walks away.
Grandpa walks slowly toward where we’re standing on the sidewalk. He stops in front of us, tears in his eyes. “I thought I’d lost him. A man shouldn’t bury both of his sons. That’s not how it’s supposed to work.”
“You’re right, Grandpa,” Kieran says.
“My sons aren’t perfect people,” he goes on to say. “Did you know your father was a difficult, angry teenager? Never listened to a thing I said.”
Kieran’s eyes widen. “No?”
Grandpa shakes his head. “I love every stubborn hair on his head, though. And yours, too. I always will. Blood type doesn’t mean shit, boy. You know what does?”
Speechless, Kieran shakes his head.
