Page 41 of Resurrection
"Naomi. How are you?" Koda says, his voice serious and slightly annoyed.
"I’m fine. How are you?"
He gets right to the point. "Your brother’s here again. He’s had too much to drink, and he’s making a scene at the tables."
Damn it, Adri.
"Okay. I’ll be there," I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. This isn’t the first time my brother’s made a fool out of himself at the casino, but I thought that with time, he’d mellow out. I thought all the bad memories from his deployment would eventually get muddy, and he’d sleep better and drink less. I was wrong.
"What’s up?" Tyler inquires.
"I’m so sorry to do this, but Adri’s at the casino. Drinking and causing trouble," I admit, my excitement turning to embarrassment. "Can I take a rain check?"
"Of course. Want me to drive you there?" he asks, no hesitation, already turning the steering wheel.
"You don’t have to. I can—"Get an Uber.
"I’ll take you." His voice is gentle, understanding but firm. He makes a quick U-turn, Ernie’s already fading in the rearview.
I don’t know what to say. The carefree nostalgia has twisted into something more complicated. "Thanks," I manage, staring at my hands. "I appreciate it."
The mood in the car is different now, charged and uncertain. "Is this a regular thing?" Tyler breaks the silence.
I shrug, not ready to spill the whole messy story. "Depends on the week."
"He’s okay, though?"
I look out the window. "I don’t know," I reply quietly, preparing myself for what’s next, for the mess my brother’s made and the mess I’m making of my own heart.
12TYLER
"He’s probablyin the smoking area," Naomi rattles off as we enter the casino. She’s half walking, half running, her shoulders tense and her strides wide.
I’m right behind her, feeling like a part of some surreal noir movie where neon lights spilling across the carpet are loud and demanding, throwing rainbow shadows against blank faces.
We weave through the crowd, past the jingling slots, and Naomi points toward the roulette table. "I can’t with him…" she mutters. Her voice is tight, full of something too heavy for words.
I follow her line of sight and spot Adri leaning against the edge of the table, his hair falling loose, a mess of black against the white of his T-shirt. There’s a drink next to him, the glass almost empty with only melting ice cubes.
He doesn't look like an authority.
Just a man who's given up.
We reach the roulette table, and Naomi touches his shoulder to get his attention, smiling at the casino worker apologetically. "Adri, come on. Let's get you home."
His eyes drift to us, slow and sluggish. First, he looks at his sister, then at me. His brow furrows in confusion. "What’s he doing here?" He attempts to grab his glass but misses. His knuckles knock it over, and the remaining alcohol spills onto the wood and fabric.
The lady sitting across from him scrunches her nose.
"He’s helping me drag your drunk ass to the car," Naomi says flatly. "Get up." She slaps his back.
"I’m not done yet." He waves her off with a flick of his wrist.
"Yes, you are."
"I’m older. You don’t get to tell me what to do, Shrimp."
"Adri, I’m serious," she hisses out. "I can’t have you doing this to me. I can’t have Koda calling me about you making a fool of yourself in my place of work."
