“Not everyone.”
I shrugged. “No, he’s not avoiding us, but what about Don? What about his best friend?”
My mother grew quiet and tilted her head sideways. “You’re full of concern about his relationship with Don.”
I bulged my eyes, unwittingly, before schooling my face. “It’s just that, you know, I saw him today. What I mean is...what about all the other guys down at Rescue Four? If I was still on the force and one of our officers had gotten injured, we’d all want to know how they were doing.”
My mother stared at me for a long moment. Suddenly, I felt like I was sixteen again and had lied to her about sneaking out of the house. However, I refused to fidget under the weight of her stare.
She patted my hand and stood, taking both of our empty plates from the table. “Your brother will be fine.”
“How?” I asked, following her and noting he’d gone back to his room down the hall.
“He needs a little more time.”
“How much more time?”
“As long as he needs.”
I was being pushy. I knew it but it felt like a dagger to my chest to see my brother, my twin, so down and out. “He’s doing well. You know what his physical therapist said.”
“Everything’s not about the physical, Jocelyn,” my mother said, in that exasperated tone she gave me when I pushed things too far. “Drop it. Go take your brother his papers, and don’t mention anything about Rescue Four when you do.”
She wasn’t going to budge on the topic, and I recognized when it was time for me to drop it. I moved past my mother to retrieve the envelope from the living room before going to Corey’s room.
I pushed through the closed door. “Hey, you left these.”
“Damn, don’t you know how to knock?” he barked, sitting up from his bed. Corey scoured me with his gaze.
I gave him a teasing smile. “There was no sock on the door, so I figured it was cool.”
He frowned and glared as he sat on the edge of the bed.
When we were teens, and both of our parents were at work, Corey would sneak girls into the house. He’d leave a sock hanging on the doorknob to alert me not to walk in, lest I see my brother in a position I likely wouldn’t have recovered from.
He snatched the envelope from my hand. “You're funny as fuck, you know that?”
“Thanks. I’ve been practicing.”
He grunted and peered down at the envelope. I started to ask him what he planned to do with those papers, but my mother’s warning stopped me. I didn’t know what to say. He’d grown so solemn in the past few months that it sometimes felt like deactivating a bomb trying to start a simple conversation. I often had to watch everything that came out of my mouth.
I was too tired to strain for a safe topic, so I chose to tell him goodnight, instead. “I’m heading home. Have a good night.”
Turning, I started for the door.
“You never answered, Mama.”
I stopped and looked back over my shoulder. “What?”
“About work. She asked how it’s going at the office.”
“There’s no shortage of men cheating on their wives, so business is always going to do well.”
He tossed the envelope to the far side of the bed. “Cynical ass.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“I’m not half as pessimistic as you when it comes to relationships.”
