Might as well add my picture next topossessedtoo.
I had struggled through the morning, wanting to text him but not wanting to adddesperateto the word list as well, so when Hunter reached out about getting lunch, I jumped at thechance. He was closest with Finn, and even then he was reserved, so it was a rare treat when he wanted to get together one on one.
As soon as it was close enough to lunch, I shut my laptop, slid my cell phone into my pocket, and locked up my office. The weather was nice, so I decided to walk the half-mile instead of driving. Hunter had picked some ramen restaurant in a strip mall, and he was already sitting at the counter when I arrived. The seat beside him was open, a glass of water already waiting for me. Sliding up into the seat, I bumped my shoulder into his.
“Hey, baby brother,” I greeted.
He made an unimpressed noise. “I’m four years younger than you and a decade older than Smith.”
“Practically an infant,” I teased.
“Then Smith is a fetus?”
I chuckled and took a swallow of water. “Isn’t he?”
“Sometimes it seems like it.” Hunter sighed heavily, and I was suddenly worried he’d called me up for lunch because something was wrong with our youngest brother.
“What’s up, Hunter?” I asked, only to be interrupted by the waiter coming to take our order. I shrugged, and Hunter ordered for us both, waiting a beat after the waiter had left to answer me.
“It’s about Dad,” he said.
Dread filled the pit of my stomach, worse than when I’d thought something was going on with Smith. “What about him?”
It had been years since Finn and I had spoken to our dad. He’d done his part, we’d agreed, getting us through high school and college, keeping us alive, though not nurtured. We didn’t see the point in trying to build any lasting familial relations with him, so we hadn’t tried. Smith had tried and failed to lay the foundation for a father/son relationship. After giving up,he’d turned his sights on me, and I was more than happy to fill those shoes for him. Hunter, on the other hand, had kept track of things without staying close. They spoke twice a year, Dad giving Hunter updates about his financials—for the inheritances—and Hunter letting him know the four of us were still alive.
“He’s not dead,” Hunter said. “But…”
The way he trailed off had me unsure of what was going to come next. Not dead, but dying? Did he have cancer? I was getting older than the rest of them; was it something I should get checked for? Was it hereditary? Oh, maybe he had a heart attack…a stroke.
“Spill it.”
He exhaled, cheeks puffing out and deflating slower than molasses. Hunter was quiet, but he was rarely at a loss for words.
“There’s another brother,” he finally said, chewing on his lower lip and avoiding my stare.
“What now?”
The waiter was back, sliding two bowls of steaming hot ramen and the most perfect-looking soft-boiled eggs in front of us. It smelled delicious, but I found myself worried I was about to throw up all over the noodles. I reached for the glass and took a drink of water, swallowing down the bile and my nerves. I was the oldest of us, and it was my responsibility to stay levelheaded about things.
To be reasonable.
“He’s been made aware of another son,” Hunter said.
“Son,” I repeated. “At least he’s consistent.”
My brother huffed out a laugh and cracked apart his chopsticks. He’d clearly been sitting on this news for a while if he was able to dive into his meal like he’d just told me he bought a new car or rented a new apartment. I opened my chopsticks upbecause it felt like the thing to do, even though I wasn’t sure I had it in me to eat anymore.
Finn would be amused to all hell by the news.
Smith would be devastated.
“Ask me the rest.” Hunter slurped up a mouthful of noodles and pork, finally glancing up at me.
“How old is he?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Where does he live?” I poked the tip of my chopstick into the almost runny yolk of the egg. My stomach growled, and I gave in, picking up the whole thing and shoving it into my mouth.
