Page 76 of The Other Brother
I cough as an image of last night floats into my mind. Was I taking advantage of Cody? If so, he was definitely taking advantage of me in return.
A flush sweeps through my body at the memory. Yeah, top of the list of things not to think about at the dinner table.
“Now, I was thinking I’ll schedule some vacation time around when the baby comes.” Thankfully, Mum changes the subject. Unfortunately, it takes the conversation from one minefield straight into another.
Kate fiddles with her fork, poking at the lasagna noodles. Sometimes they can be slippery suckers. “Well, Chris is taking some time off. And we were thinking we’d like some time to spend together as a family, just the three of us.”
Mum makes a ha-harrumphing sound. “If that’s what you want.”
She reaches over to grab some more garlic bread, while Mel, Kate, and I exchange looks. Mum backing down so quickly is out of character. Like on the ghostly-spirit-invading-her-brain scale.
“Although I don’t think you appreciate how difficult the first few weeks with a newborn can be. God knows, I would have loved the support when you were a baby. But I didn’t have family close by, and it’s not like your father was much help.”
And there it is. The Mum rant we were expecting. At least we don’t need to call the exorcist.
Kate takes a deep breath, releasing it shakily. “I appreciate your offer, really. But I’m just saying I don’t want you to use up your vacation leave unnecessarily.”
Mum doesn’t reply for a moment. The silence is filled by the scraping of knives and forks across plates.
I increase my fork speed, shoveling food into my mouth as fast as I can. I don’t need psychic abilities to know the direction this conversation is heading.
Finally, Mum speaks. “Have you thought about how you will structure it when the baby arrives so everyone gets a fair turn at visiting?”
Kate puts down her fork with more force than necessary. “I’d actually like not to have to schedule when everyone can visit. I’d like it if everyone can act like grown-ups and just get along.”
The lasagna has turned into glue inside me, sticking my internal organs into one garbling mess. Because this is what Cody and I are up against.
Mum looks like she’s just taken a sip of vinegar rather than wine. “I’ve got to get ready for my book club,” she says abruptly, scraping her chair as she stands. Pausing at the doorway, she looks back at Kate, her voice low. “You have no idea what that man did to me, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t judge.”
With that, she sweeps out of the room.
Kate stares at her plate, and shit, I’m sure waterworks are under production in her eyes. Mel reaches over and gives her shoulder a squeeze.
“So, have you set up the nursery yet?” Dad asks in a bright voice.
After I’ve donethe dishes, I head through the living room to find Kate on her knees next to one of the bookshelves.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for photo albums.”
“Why?”
“Chris’s mum gave me this book to put together for the baby.” Kate stretches, her hands on her lower back. “It’s got a whole section on parents and grandparents, and I’m struggling to put it together because there is so much stuff I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, stuff you don’t know?” I ask.
Kate shrugs. “That’s one of the crappy things about having divorced parents. Part of the story about how you came about goes missing. I mean, Mum and Dad never want to tell the story about how they first met and fell in love. But it’s part of me and Mel.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I mean, you’ve heard dozens of times how Mum met Max, right? Mum loves telling about how we were at the barbecue and Mel fell in the fountain and Max fished her out.”
“Yeah.” I shove my hands in my pockets.
Kate’s right. I’ve heard the rest of the story many, many times. How Dad had seen Mum as soon as she’d arrived at the barbecue, but he’d been too nervous to approach her. But then Mel had toppled into the fountain, and Dad rushed over and scooped her out, and he went with Mum to the Emergency Room afterwards even though Mel was completely fine (Mum has always been overly paranoid when it comes to the health of her children. If doctors gave out frequent flier miles, we’d all have gold status).
If Mel hadn’t fallen in the fountain, Dad might never have worked up the courage to approach Mum, and I would probably not be here.
