I followed her outside, where there was a covered patio. A glass-topped table was surrounded by cushioned patio chairs sitting next to a propane grill. Kat took a seat, and I sat across from her. Kat lit a citronella candle, and the scent of it filled the air between us.
“What’s going on, Blade?” she asked after we’d been sitting in silence together for several minutes. I was comfortable with it, but I should have known that Kat would question me. I was lucky that she let me in the house at all.
I sighed before tipping my beer bottle back and emptying it. I stood.
“I’m gonna grab another. You want one?”
“Sure.”
I took my time in the house, but when I returned, Kat was waiting patiently. She wasn’t going to let me get out of answering her question. I knew she had a right to know what was up with me, but it was hard to talk about. After I resumed my seat, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table.
“My brother Mark died ten years ago today.”
“Holy shit,” Kat said after a moment. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, well…” I didn’t know what to say. Her words were meant to comfort, but I’d realized long ago that there was nothing that could make this better.
“Can I ask what happened?”
“Yeah,” I stared at the label of my beer bottle without really seeing it. “He killed himself.”
I didn’t look up at Kat’s sharp intake of breath. I didn’t want to see her feeling sorry for me.
“I was sixteen. Mark was my older brother, but only by two years, so we were always pretty close.” I rubbed my eyes, trying to somehow scrub away the image in my mind. It wouldn’t work. It never did. “I found him afterward.”
“You…oh, my god, Blade.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “It was an overdose.”
“You’re sure it was intentional?”
“Definitely. He took an entire bottle of his antidepressants. He didn’t leave a note or anything, but it was pretty clear that he meant to do it.”
I clenched my fists as the familiar helpless anger flooded me. I hated being angry at Mark, but every time I thought about him leaving me behind like that…I just couldn’t help it.
“I’d be angry, too,” Kat said, her voice soft. It felt like she was reading my mind, and a part of me resented her for it, but that wasn’t fair.
“I shouldn’t be,” I shook my head. “I know that’s selfish of me, but damn it, he was my only friend. We moved all over the damn place growing up since our dad was in the army. He knew he was all I had.”
I hadn’t talked about this with anyone, not even the therapist that my mom had made me see after Mark’s death. I wasn’t sure why I was opening up to Kat now. She was still trying to keep me at arm’s length, convinced that we should be enemies.
“So, he struggled with depression?”
“For years. Our dad’s a real hard-ass and had all these expectations for the two of us, but especially Mark. He was the golden child. So, he tried to hide his depression for a long time. When he turned eighteen, he got on medication without our old man knowing. I thought it was working, but…clearly, I was wrong.”
“You know that’s not your fault, right?”
I let out a humorless chuckle. “Are you reading my mind or something?”
“No, but I think I’ve gotten to know you pretty well over the last few weeks.”
“Despite your best efforts.”
“That’s not fair,” she said.
I drained my second beer. “Haven’t you been listening? Life’s not fair.”
“I’m going to bed,” she said, rising. She started to walk past me, but I reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist.
