Bobby stops chewing, his mouth agape. Surprisingly, even with his mouth full of all that goop, I’m able to make out his words. “Which one?”
“Which one, what?” My playing dumb is only going to last so long, but I’m going to ride that train for as long as I can.
“Mattie….” Bobby chews, then swallows. “You’re seeing one of those douchebag Marchesanis?”
Douchebags? I guess I could see that with the other three but not with Alec. Grumpy, yes. Douchebag, no. “I’m not seeing anyone.” I do my best to focus on the scrambled eggs in the pan. I feel a little sorry for them, frankly. I’m scrambling the bejesus out of them right now.
“It’s the one in the army, Alec,” my dad says as he sips his coffee, also while he reads his paper. The man can multitask like nobody’s business.
“The oldest one?” Bobby says with a squeak.
Speaking of nobody’s business….
“He’s the worst of all. You’re dating him?”
Why does my brother sound both shocked and disgusted at the same time?
“No, I’m not dating him. We’re, um, pen pals.” There, that should settle things.
“Oh, Mattie.” Now Bobby’s voice has morphed into something akin to sympathetic. “Sure, that guy is an asshole, but, sis, even with that, he’s way out of your league.”
I stare down at the eggs that have gone far past done, because if I turn and make eye contact with my brother, or my dad for that matter, they’re going to see. I do what I always do; I swallow down the feelings.
“You get what I’m saying, Mattie? Donotget your hopes up about a guy like Alec Marchesani. He’s gonna end up with a supermodel, not some plain Jane from Oak Park who works part-time selling solar panels.”
“Son,” my dad warns, “there’s no need for that.”
“Apparently there is a need. You’re not doing her any favors, Dad.”
“Oh?” My father is going to jump in the fray. “And why’s that?”
“She’ll just end up hurt and disappointed. You need to nip that letter-writing shit in the bud.”
Is he talking to me or my father? Because if he’s talking to Dad, I’m going to go medieval on Bobby’s ass.
Something I’ll do that right after I run upstairs because the tears are on the verge of breaking through.
No, I’m not going to cry. Bobby’s right, of course. There’s nothing between me and Alec, even though part of me had my hopes up. Still, my brother is being a real prick right now. I gird my loins, as they say, and suck back the tears. Turning, I hold up the pan filled with burnt eggs. I walk to the garbage can, step on the thing that opens the lid, and dump the eggs inside. “You know what, Bobby?”
“What?”
Well, shit, I’m not prepared with a clever response. I go with “You can suck it.”
“Suck it?” He frowns. “Why?”
“Because you know nothing about my situation with Alec—”
“He buys her gifts,” my dad interjects, and I’m not sure his timing is all that good.
“Gifts?” Bobby’s head swivels from me to my dad, then back to me. “What kind of gifts?”
“He bought her a bracelet, the kind you put charms on.”
Now I wish I hadn’t shown it to my father.
“It was just to thank me for helping him with the dances.”
“Of course it was.” Bobby sounds a wee bit condescending now.
