Page 15 of Summer Reading

“This spring,” he said.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes,” he said. “Since Christmas, I grew four inches and three shoe sizes.”

I glanced down at his feet. “I thought we’d established those aren’t shoes, they’re canoes.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” he said. He looked annoyed.

How had I forgotten how miserable the teen years were? The uncomfortably awkward feeling that your skin and bones and hair don’t fit right anymore. The absolute certainty that everyone is watching you all the time, judging your coolness and just waiting for you to slip up so they can laugh at you and cause you to die of embarrassment. The brutal stage of having perverted thoughts about, well, just about everyone, combined with sprouting hair in places that had no business having hair, and sudden problematic body odor. Yeah, it was a wonder anyone survived it.

I knew better than to look at my brother with sympathy or he’d just lob it back with some cutting barb that would either annoy me or hurt my feelings.

“Just because you’re taller than me,” I said, planting my hands on my hips just like Stephanie did when she lectured us. “Don’t think you’re the boss of me.”

He looked down at me, and a smile started in one corner of his mouth and slowly slid across to the other side. Then he patted me on the head.

“Whatever you say, short stack.”

“Short stack?” I sputtered in mock outrage. “Short stack?!” Then I ruined it by laughing. He ducked his head, but not before I saw his grin.

“Where are we going to eat?” he asked. He moved around me and headed for the door. “I’m starving.”

“Oh, now you want to go eat,” I said.

He gestured to his body. “I’m a growing boy. I haveto eat every fifteen minutes or I’ll die, literally starve to death.”

“Fine.” I stepped out onto the porch with him, locking the door behind me.

We stared at each other for a moment, and I noticed for the first time that we had the same black hair, brown eyes, and heart-shaped face. I don’t know why I’d never noticed before, but it hit me that we both took after my father and his Gale DNA and seeing my own features mirrored back at me made me feel a connection to Tyler that I’d never felt before.

“What?” he asked. He glanced down at his shirt. “Did I spill something?”

“No, you’re fine,” I said. I was in no way prepared to deal with all of these feelings. I’d been a solo unit for a really long time. I had no idea what a sibling bond even meant. “Let’s go.”

We walked through the neighborhood to the more touristy part of town. We had to duck and weave through the crowds, but we finally arrived at the Flying Horses Carousel.

“Seriously?” Tyler asked. “Don’t you think I’m a little old for this?”

“You’re never too old for a carousel,” I said. “But that’s not why we’re here.”

We walked past the vintage carousel—which boasted being the oldest in the country, as it had been brought to the Vineyard from Coney Island, New York, in 1884—and crossed the street, where a small mom-and-pop shop crafted the best pizza outside of New Haven, Connecticut.

“You do eat pizza, I assume?” I asked.

“Cheese only,” he said.

“Of course.”

I led the way into the shop, and we ordered a couple of slices each and sodas. I figured after the day Tyler had, Dad and Stephanie couldn’t be too disapproving of pizza for dinner. I’d finagle a way to get him to start broadening his palate another day. I was a chef, after all. I couldn’t be in charge of a sibling who only ate bland and bland on nothing. The horror!

We found an empty bench on Lake Avenue that looked out over the marina. We people watched while we ate, and I decided it was as good a time as any to do an informational deep dive.

“So, what’s up with Dad and the chin hair?” I asked.

I caught Tyler on a sip of soda, and he hacked and laughed at the same time.

“Sorry,” I said. “Need me to thump you on the back?”

---