Page 10 of The Other Brother
As I head downstairs, I wonder what other leftovers of Mum are in the house. It’s weird to think she once spent time here, before I existed.
Mel’s in the kitchen making dinner, so I start to help her. Earn my keep and all that. While I’m throwing together a salad, piano music trickles down from upstairs.
The music swells, and I swallow. I mean, I know Cody is an amazing musician. I’d heard details of his achievements over the years. I’ve never been a fan of classical music, despite how many of Kate and Mel’s concerts they have dragged me to. But this. This is something different.
It’s not just the incredible music, but it’s the feelings the music causes to swell up inside me. Longing. Yearning. Melancholy. All combining into a weird kind of ache.
“Is there a piano here?” I ask the stupid question.
“In Cody’s room. Heather and Dad put one there so he could practice here too.”
“'Cause it sounds like he needs the practice,” I say.
Mel just stares at me. She has blue eyes like Cody, although they’re a lighter blue similar to the pale part of a summer sky. But that blue is deceptive, because I’m all too aware of how they can turn thunderous in a moment. Like the time she discovered I’d shared the photo of her drooling in her sleep on all my social media accounts.
“It’s good that Cody’s here,” she says finally as she goes back to cutting up potatoes.
“Good? In what way?”
“I think you guys hanging out together will benefit both of you.”
“Benefit us?” It appears my role in this conversation is just to repeat Mel’s words back to her. A well-trained parrot could sub in for me.
“Yeah, Cody’s always been so intense, and you’re so laid back you’re almost horizontal. It might be good if you rub off on each other.”
Because I can’t resist taking it to that level, I raise an eyebrow. “Did you just encourage me to rub off your brother?”
She shoves me. “Don’t corrupt him, okay?”
“Sweet, innocent Cody,” I mutter. “Aren’t you worried he might corrupt me?”
Mel just laughs at that.
“That song was amazing,”Mel gushes when Cody comes down and takes a seat at the table.
“Thanks.” He ducks his head.
An awkward silence fills the space where my compliment should be. Damn, I shouldn’t be this petty.
I huff out a small sigh. “Dude, that was insane.”
Cody meets my eyes, and a slight smile tracks its way across his face.
“Just something I’m working on,” he says.
“You wrote that?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.” I don’t know what else to say. To be talented enough to even get a piano to produce that standard of music is one thing, but to have created the music out of nothing? It’s hard to comprehend.
“Dig in,” Mel says, nodding at the meal.
I never need a second invitation to eat. I pile my plate high.
As we eat, I notice Cody picking out every raisin from the salad I made, but leaves behind the grapes.
“Still got your raisin vendetta, I see,” I say.
