“You don’t have to stay,” Memphis said, looking to Preacher. “I can take over from here.”
“I’m good,” Preacher said, looking like he was about to dig in his heels.
Memphis shook his head, voice stern. “Seriously, we’re fine here at the hospital. I’d like some time alone to get to know my brother.”
It wasn’t a total lie. He did want to get to know his little brother. But he also needed to get this man away from him as quickly as possible. The proximity was making him think about stuff he had no business thinking of. Preacher looked from Knox to Memphis before giving a stiff nod. “Alright. I’m still going to come by and check on him in the morning.”
It wasn’t a question, so Memphis didn’t bother to answer, just turned and walked away. When he looked back, Preacher was gone, and the room felt emptier for it. He plopped down in the chair beside Knox, who kept glancing in his direction like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
“Do you need something?” Memphis asked. “Are you hungry?”
“Am I going to live with you now?” Knox asked, his eyes locked on Memphis like he could tell if he lied.
“I hope so. I want you to. Would that be okay?” Memphis asked.
Knox shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know you.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Memphis agreed. “What do you want to know? I’ll answer anything.”
Knox rolled towards him, and Memphis leaned over to carefully untangle the lines of the boy’s IV so they didn’t tug. Then the inquisition began, Knox firing off questions almost faster than Memphis could answer.
“Where do you live?”
“Los Angeles.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“I’m gay.”
His eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth and then shut it again.
Memphis tried to remember that his brother had been subjected to all kinds of racist and homophobic rhetoric since birth. “I know what Tennessee and Nash say about gay people. None of it’s true.”
Knox gave him a look like he was dumb. “I know that. My friend Tyler has two dads, and my friend Misty has two moms and a dad. We live in California, not Mississippi.”
Memphis laughed, relieved he wouldn’t have to overcome that particular hurdle with his brother.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Knox asked.
“What?” Memphis blurted, kicking himself for not seeing that question coming. “No. I don’t…have time,” he stuttered.
Knox looked at him like that was a stupid answer before saying, “You should marry Preacher. He’s cool.”
Memphis laughed. “Marry Preacher? I just met him. Besides, I don’t think he swings that way.”
Knox’s look was smug. “Yeah, he does. That’s what Cy and Nicky said anyway. They’re gay. Did you know that? They’re married, too. They rescue dogs and find them new homes. They all met in prison. Nicky was wrongly accused of being a terrorist, and Cy was framed for murder.”
This time, Memphis was the one who was wide-eyed as Knox animatedly told him way more than he’d ever imagined needing to know about the group of strangers who had surrounded his little brother with protection. Memphis was happy to listen. Knox sounded like any other twelve-year-old boy, even if he looked small for his age.
When Annie came around to give Knox his nighttime medications, she offered to bring the rollaway cot, and he gratefully accepted. She also brought him a pillow and blanket as well as a toothbrush and mouthwash. He made himself a spot in the darkest part of the large room where the lights from the television and machines weren’t likely to keep him up but where he still had a good view of Knox should he need anything.
