“Good.” Shawn sounds genuinely happy with my statement.
Obviously, I did not lay on my sarcasm thick enough. On the other hand, he could just be that oblivious.
For being raised by such a ruthless man, my brother is surprisingly naive. Or maybe just overly optimistic. I think that’s one of the reasons he keeps stumbling into friendships and relationships where the people are only out to use him.
Like with me?
My stomach turns queasy at the thought, and any spark of annoyance at his pushing about flight club evaporates.
“Hey, uh, I know that you probably pay some barber a thousand dollars for your corporate guy haircut. But if you want to come over later, tonight is salon night.” Shawn hasn’t ever attended one of the gatherings, but I want him to know that he’s welcome in all parts of my life.
“Seriously, Beth? You invite menow?” Through the phone I hear a groan.
“Is that a problem?”
“I have to go to dinner with Dad and my mom tonight,” Shawn whines like he’s six years old.
I snort, experiencing a mixture of disappointment and relief.
Disappointment because I love hanging out with Shawn.
Relief because I’m not sure how Mom would feel having my brother over outside Thanksgiving. Especially when she could be extra vulnerable today after visiting the doctor.
“Oh well.” I walk over to the back door when I spy Grumps staring at me through the glass, demanding with his droopy eyes to be let outside with me. “I guess I’ll tell Darla her haircuts aren’t good enough for you.”
“No!” he wails. “Tell her I want her hands in my hair!”
“Yeah, no. I’m not saying that. Especially not when she’s going to have scissors inches from my jugular.”
“That’s fair. Maybe I can come to the next one?” Shawn’s voice is so hopeful. And all I can think is that he might have cut me off by then.
“Yeah,” I say, keeping the sadness out of my voice. “Definitely.”
“Cool. And I would’ve invited you tonight, but, you know, my mom will be there.” He coughs, and it’s like that sound stands in place of the scandal of the affair. “I could always set up a dinner, just you, me, and Dad.”
Every inch of my body tightens with guilty discomfort, knowing my next words will be a subtle misdirection from the truth.
“You know we don’t get along.” My voice is careful, trying to shut down the subject without revealing to my brother that the relationship he thinks is strained is actually nonexistent. Throughout my life, whenever Shawn brought up our father, I’ve given him every excuse for why I don’t spend time with Karl.
“He and my mom don’t talk, and I don’t want to upset her.”
“Our personalities are too different and we clash.”
“I’m not interested in him judging or trying to dictate how I live my life.”
All of these are technically true, and I try to use that as a valid reason for misleading my brother. But in reality, there’s only one reason Karl Newton is not in my life.
He doesn’t want to be.
“Please don’t push this,” I add.
“Fine, fine. I was just offering.”
“Thank you. For offering.” My body relaxes, but the guilt remains. “I’ve got to fix a gutter now.”
“Wow.” He drags out the word. “I don’t even know where I would start if I had to do that. My sister is pretty impressive.”
Never able to accept his compliments, I hurry Shawn off the phone with reminders that I’ll see him in just a few days for book club at his place. And I try not to think about him happily eating a meal with a man who took part in creating me but has always wished I never existed.
