Page 10 of Her Brother's Keeper

I checked my phone like six times before I fell asleep, but of course, there was nothing on it. I was beginning to wonder, out of the two of us, who was the fucking teenage girl here. My behavior was downright hilarious when you stopped to think about it.

Although the message that pinged my phone and woke me up at two in the morning reminded me otherwise. It screamed out that there was someone seriously hurting and scared in the midst of all of this and all I wanted was to have the right words to make it all better.

Maren: I miss him so much right now. Why did he have to die? Why couldn’t it have been me?

I sighed, and pictured her curled on her side, cheeks wet with her tears as she stared at the little rectangle of light that was her phone and waited, waited for me to have the answers, but I didn’t. Not when it came to death and dying. No one did, really. Growing up the way I did, I wasn’t much of a believer in God. Shit, I mean, if he was up there, he was a right fucking asshole letting all of us suffer down here like we were. Letting Maren suffer now…Of course, if there was no God, then she probably wouldn’t have met me when she did, now would she? You wouldn’t be compelled to stick around and help her either, now would you?I argued with myself and resolutely shoved my inner theological debate team off to the side. Right now, this girl who was in so much pain it made me raw just to see it, was reaching out for a lifeline.

Me: Baby don’t talk like that… Ur here because as much of a dick as he is, God doesn’t give people more than they can handle.

Maren: He’s overestimating my abilities to hang on here.

Me: Where do you think I come in?

I stared at the screen, no bouncing dots, no nothing until the screen went dark. I sighed, thinking I’d probably said the wrong thing, and dropped the phone to my chest, staring at the ceiling in the dark when it buzzed against my chest.

Maren: I don’t know what to say to that. I still don’t really understand why you would do so much for me. I’m a total stranger. I guess it’s just been an extremely long day. The holiday, missing my dad… they’re coming for the hospice stuff the day after tomorrow and it’s like I don’t want them to take it. Like if they take it away, it’s really real, you know? That he’s not coming back…

Maren: I’m sorry. I’m babbling and it’s probably really unattractive, me being all needy and washed out all the time.

I chuckled, amused that she was worried about being attractive. I mean shit, I should be considered a thirty-six-year-old, dirty old man by her seventeen-year-old standards. I squeezed my eyes shut and gave my head a little shake.

She was pretty. She had a bangin’ body. She was over the age of consent and emancipated, but that didn’t make any of what I was thinkin’ anywherecloseto right and the legalities were murky. I needed my fucking head examined, and right about now, I needed a cold shower too. Wasn't any way I was on board with becoming some kind of a pedo. Fuck that.

Me: U aren’t being needy. Far from it. U been handling this like a champ so far and I can tell u, there ain’t no wrong or right when it comes to this shit. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, Maren. Welcome to it. It’ll pass, and u’ll go back to it. Then u gonna go through all sorts of other shit too. It’s okay, it’s normal, and ur not crazy. That’s the most important thing. Ur, not crazy for any of these feelings. Ur hurting. Ur hurting bad. So is ur brother. I told u I am here to listen. U gotta cut you some slack, girl.

Again there was a long pause before the dots started their shimmy across the bottom corner of the screen.

Maren: I don’t think I can thank you enough.

Me: U cryin?

Maren: Yeah

Me: Good, u just let it out.

Maren: Why are you so patient and understanding? :-P

Me: Seems like not enough people have been for u.

Maren: The school administration and our social worker, they try. Most of my teachers have been pretty good.

Me: Most but not all?

Maren: Mrs. Kubrick, my English Lit teacher, is either a harpy or one of the furies, she wasn’t going to give me an extension on my midterm until Mr. Thorpe, the principal, made her.

Me: LOL Well ur ahead of me on that score, I barely made it out of HS.

Maren: You did, though.

Me: I did.

Maren: So what did you end up becoming when you grew up? I mean, what does LMP stand for?

Me: Licensed Massage Practitioner.

Maren: Oh!

I couldn’t help but smile, grinning to myself in the dark.

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