Page 20 of Now That It's You
And never when there was no chance of Matt doing it himself.
But Kyle didn’t seem to react so she sipped her wine again and continued on. “I know he said some kind of lousy things about your work over the years,” she said. “Creative differences, I guess.”
“I guess,” Kyle said. “Brotherly rivalry can be fierce enough without both guys working in artistic professions.”
“Right,” Meg said, plucking a cinnamon-dusted chip from the bowl. “Anyway, I hope I wasn’t insulting. About the prehistoric piece or any other.”
“You weren’t. And that piece did kinda look like a drunk caveman chiseled it out of melted crayons.”
“Well—”
“But it sold for twenty-thou last summer, so I can’t complain.”
Meg dropped her chip. “Twenty thousand dollars?”
“Nah, goats.” Kyle laughed and shoved a chip in his mouth. “Yes, dollars. Sorry. I don’t usually throw money into conversation like that. That’s me being an insecure prick who urgently wants his big brother’s girl to know he’s made it as an artist. No more couch surfing or begging my parents for loans.”
“I’m happy for you.” Meg set down her wineglass, her gut twisting a little on the big-brother’s-girl comment, but she let it go. She caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye and looked up to see Floyd sauntering back into the room. Her cat cast a wary glance at Kyle, then moseyed into the dining room where he leapt onto a barstool to keep a watchful eye over them.
“That’s my first embarrassing confession, by the way,” Kyle said.
“What? Oh.” Meg bit her lip. “Are we really going to do this? I’ve already forgotten what I was thinking about in the kitchen.”
“No, you haven’t.” Kyle stretched his arm out, and for a moment, Meg thought he was going to rest his hand on her thigh. Instead, he grabbed the chip she’d dropped and handed it back to her. “Let’s see, confession number two. I didn’t cry when Cara left me this past August or when I found out Matt died two days ago, but I did cry when I had to put Karma to sleep last fall, and I’m pretty sure that makes me the worst human being on the planet.”
“Jesus.” Meg swallowed hard, fighting the urge to reach out and touch his arm. “You’re not the worst human on the planet. Not by a long shot.”
“Thanks. You’re wrong, but that’s kind of you to say.”
“She was a good dog,” Meg said. “Karma, I mean. Not that Matt wasn’t a good brother or Cara wasn’t a good girlfriend, but?—”
“I know.”
Meg picked up her wineglass again, twisting the stem in her hand as she stared down into the pale liquid. “This won’t make you feel any better, but I think I’ve cried enough for the both of us since yesterday. And then I think maybe I’m the worst human on the planet, because what the hell entitles me to act like some sort of grieving widow? For God’s sake, I hadn’t seen Matt for two years, and I’d barely stopped hating him, so I hardly—” she stopped as her brain caught up with the words coming out of her mouth. She looked up at Kyle. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk about hating him. Not now. Not with you sitting here in my living room.”
Kyle reached out and caught her free hand in his, offering a quick squeeze before drawing back. It was an innocent gesture, something comforting and friendly, but it sent an arc of heat up her arm just the same.
“It’s okay.”
Meg took a shaky breath, but said nothing. On the barstool just over her shoulder, Floyd gave a disdainful look and closed his eyes.
“You’re entitled to feel sad,” Kyle said. “Hell, you and Matt lived together almost ten years before you got married. Er, almost got married.”
“Almost,” Meg repeated.
“You earned whatever it is you’re feeling, Meg. It’s not like the rest of the family cornered the market on emotions.”
She nodded. “On the same note, I think you need to go easy on yourself. Feeling sad doesn’t always require tears.”
“How about we both agree there’s no right or wrong way to grieve and we cut ourselves some slack.”
“Deal.”
“Okay.” Kyle took another sip of wine. “Third confession: I kept tabs on you the last couple years. Nothing creepy—I mean, I didn’t stalk you in public bathrooms or anything. But I wanted to make sure you were okay after the split.”
“I was,” Meg said softly. “Better than I expected to be.”
“I know.”
