“He wanted to make sure his paycheck was still coming. He can’t support that new wife and kid of his without it. Nobody told him to move to a place where the cost of living is ridiculously high.”
“I’m sure the fact that you live in New York too is a big part of the move.”
“It’s just a coincidence. His new lady is from New York. That’s why they moved back here.”
“Well, I think he’s smart enough to realize that you can pay his bills regardless if you play another game or not. His call to check in sounded genuine.”
“I don’t pay you for family counseling, Young Padawan.”
Padawan is my Star Wars nickname for Bryan. I’m the Jedi Master, and he’s my young Padawan. Yeah, we’re science fiction nerds like that. If I didn’t play football, I’d probably be in art school studying to be animation artist.
“Fine, I’m just saying, I thought you enjoyed living in the same town as him because you get to see your little sister.”
“Of course I like seeing mystepsister. Janet is an innocent six-year-old who has nothing to do with the rift between me and my father.”
“Well then, are you going to call him back?
“My father kills my mother and then marries his new wife a year later? I have very little to say to him. I only pay his bills because he had a biological hand in bringing me into the world. I owe him at least that respect, but other than that, I don’t owe him anything–not even a phone call. If I want to see Janet, I can just call her mother.”
Bryan can sense from my tone that I’m sick of this conversation. I’m not interested in anyone’s opinion on what kind of relationship I “should” have with Keith Caraway, and I never have been.
“Got it.”
I feel a slight twinge of guilt now. All this talk about my stepsister is making think I owe her a FaceTime call. She really is innocent in all of this, and for whatever reason has formed an attachment to me. There are posters of me on her bedroom wall, for God’s sake. I’ve got to do better.
“Do you have anything else on your schedule today that I don’t have noted?” He asks.
“There’s a woman,” I tell him as he finishes tossing the ingredients into the blender.
“There’s always a woman,” he responds dismissively.
“This one is different.”
“How?” He sounds unconvinced.
“She’s infiltrated my dreams.”
“Ooh, that is different.”
He turns on the roaring motor of the blender as I watch the ingredients turn into a putrid brown color.
“She doesn’t know who I am.”
He quickly clicks the blender off.
“What do you mean she doesn’t know who you are?”
“She doesn’t watch football.”
“Impossible.”
“Not everyone watches sports, Bryan.” I laugh.
“I know that. I’m saying it’s impossible that she doesn’t who you are. You’ve been on talk shows and gossip feeds for the last few years. You endorse four different products on television and have a half naked billboard in Times Square. Unless she’s been living under a rock, there’s no way she doesn’t know who you are. She’s hustling you.”
“She’s not.” I say with great surety. “I told you, man, she’s different.”
“She’s gotta be working you.”
