Page 51 of Ace of Spades

I cradle two Dr. Pepper bottles in the crook of my elbow and drop one onto his lap as I take the empty spot next to him.

“I wonder if Aunt Amalie knew,” he thinks out loud.

“That twenty years ago she had a one night stand with the man who’s now the owner of a freakin NHL hockey team among other things? No, I highly doubt it. All she had was an address. At least that’s what I read in her journal.”

“And she never talked about him to you? You never thought to ask?”

“Why would I? Up until her condition started worsening, it was Mom and I against the world. She made it pretty clear we didn’t need any men. So I never thought I needed to know,” I admit.

“Well, I can’t blame her. Men can be pretty stupid.”

“Julian,” I say.

“Yeah?”

He pops the cap on his soda, sucking on the contents that fizzle out before he takes a swig.

“You’re a man,” I feel the need to remind him.

“Which kind of makes me an expert in our stupidity, don’t you think?”

He winks, as he licks his hand where the soda spilled.

“Fair enough.”

“Speaking of your daddy owning a team,” he says. “I need you to know that I expect season tickets with the best seating considering I’m blood and all.”

“I shouldn’t have told you a damn thing,” I murmur, as I open my own drink.

He reaches over and grabs my phone off the coffee table.

“What are you doing?” I say, eyeing him.

“Texting him.”

He thumbs through the contacts in my phone.

I drop the bowl of popcorn, the buttery kernels spilling onto the floor as I reach for my phone. He holds it just out of reach.

“Come on! What are you supposed to do? Sit around and wait for him to make the first contact? Ah!,” he says, when he finds Brody’s name.

“No, J. I made the first move. I’m just giving him time to let it all sink in.”

“It’s been three days, Si.” He types something out.

“Julian Angelo Mercer… give me… the damn… phone!”

I struggle to reach for it as he tosses pillows, blocking my reach until he’s able to jump off the couch.

“You’re gonna thank me later,” he says, running off into his room.

“Julian!”

He slams the door, locking it just as my fist hits the door.

“I swear to God… if you don’t open this door right now…”

I hear the swooshing sound of a message being sent and start drumming on his door like a mad woman.

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