I didn’t want to take a vacation, but I loved that all my brothers thought I was high-strung enough to need one.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, sliding out of the booth and pocketing my phone. “I’ve got to piss, but we are also due for a trip to San Diego.”
“Family matters don’t a vacation make,” Finn sing-songed, stare flickering from my phone to my face and back again.
“Don’t come after me or I’ll piss on your shoes.”
“Joke’s on you,” Finn muttered, finishing off his drink. “I’m into that shit.”
I made my way to the bathroom, taking the time to make sure my brother didn’t follow me before locking myself in a stall and reading back through the messages Lincoln had sent me.
Instead of texting him, I called. He answered on what had to be the last ring.
“Yeah?” Lincoln sounded so tired, so weary.
“What was your fish’s name?” I asked.
A pause.
“Cassandra.”
“Was she pretty?”
“They were,” he said.
“They.” I cleared my throat. “Did you have them long?”
“No.”
“Is that why I donated fifty-three dollars to a fish rescue?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” I said. “Good.”
A pause.
“Did you really call to talk about my fish?” he asked.
“Not only your fish,” I admitted.
“I thought you were at dinner with your brothers.”
I rubbed absentmindedly at my throat, constricted even though I’d taken my tie off as soon as I got out of the office.
“I am. I’m in the bathroom.”
Lincoln made a noise that sounded a little like he was choking on his own spit.
“I’m meeting Silas for dinner in five minutes,” he said. “I’m sitting in my car in front of the restaurant.”
“I don’t want to keep you, I just?—”
“Why did you call?” he interrupted.
“It’s not pity,” I told him, the words feeling strong and true as they formed against the roof of my mouth. “My questions or any of it. It’s not pity.”
“What is it, then?”
