Page 93 of Brick Wall
“I haven’t always been the best brother,” I admit. Annie grabs my hand and keeps it there, intertwining our fingers.
“When Scarlett turned eighteen, she started dating a coworker of hers, Joel.”
“Did you like him?”
“I didn’t really know him that well. I think I met him once before they eloped in Vegas on a random Monday. He seemed like a nice enough dude, older, though.”
“How much older?”
“Twenty-six I think, so not that much older, but she had just turned twenty at that point, so the six-year difference was large at the time.”
“I see,” is all Annie says as a reply.
“At first, everything was good. She seemed content and happy. But then the guy got a promotion at work, and they moved over an hour away to San Francisco. She slowly started distancing herself from us until we barely heard from her at all.”
I take another deep breath. I hate talking about this stuff.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard,” Annie says in a soft whisper.
“No,” I say firmly. “You should know how I failed my sister, and why going back home is hard for her.”
“Hey, no!” she says, sitting up straight. “You did not fail yoursister. Why would you say that?”
“I did,” I say, while sitting up to match her position.
“How old were you when this happened? Sixteen?” she guesses.
“Yeah, I was sixteen, I think, when they got married, but I was older when it got worse. And it got way worse.” I don’t even want to get into the details, but Annie is an intelligent woman. I think she can figure out the rest, especially since our foundation focuses on women in need as well as victims of domestic violence.
“How old were you when she left California?”
“Twenty-six.” I hang my head after I answer.
Annie comes close, places her hand on my chin, and gently lifts it up higher so it reaches her eyes. “Look at me. It is not your fault. You are not responsible for his actions. What happened when she finally reached out for help?”
“I was there,” I say begrudgingly.
“That’s right. You. Were. There.” She says those last three words slowly but fiercely to get her point across. “You were there,” she repeats herself.
“I wasn’t there, though, for ten years.”
“You were sixteen, and then you were in college,” Annie tries to point out.
“Yes, but then I was an adult,” I admit. I should have seen the signs. I should have known.
“Where was your mom in all this?”
“I don’t know,” I say with uncertainty. “She was trying to connect with her. I’m not sure she knew. Scarlett did a good job at hiding her scars around us.”
She’s holding my hands, and I can’t help but feel like she’s lifting me up.
“I couldn’t protect her…” I say, barely above a whisper. That was my true offense. My sister needed me, and I couldn’t protect her. I get paid millions of dollars every year to protect the quarterback, but I couldn’t protect my own sister.
How terrible of a brother am I?
Annie has me in a deep hug now, and I feel so safe in her arms. It should be the opposite. I should be protecting her from me, but she’s supporting me and loving me.
“You are the best person I know. You were there when it mattered the most. You are a great brother, a great person, and a great protector on the field and off. I hope you know that, and I hope you know how much everyone loves you,” Annie says to me with strength and power in her voice. It’s clear she believes what she says.
