We let that statement linger, both of us lost to our own thoughts. Mitch stared down the street, toward the house he shared with his brother and his lost meaning.
He sighed, hot breath producing a cloud of smoke. “Scarlett said she bought a movie she thought I’d like. I can’t remember the name of it. I’ve been meaning to watch it though.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You can crash on the sofa. She keeps all of the movies around the television. In alphabetical order.”
“Yeah,” he said, using my shoulder to stand up. He rolled the empty glass between his palms. “I’d like to watch that movie. You got popcorn?”
“Yeah, we got popcorn.”
“That’s different, huh? Maggie Beautiful never kept the house full of food, but now you have everything. Like a fucking adult.”
“Yeah.” I had more than enough, and it had nothing to do with the pantry being stocked or the house being warm—it all had to do with the woman sleeping upstairs. I stood and stretched, swiped the bottle of whiskey from the ground, and then went ahead of him to open the door.
“Brando?”
He stopped me before I stepped inside.
“Yeah.”
“You’re my brother, man.”
“I know,” I said. “You’re mine too.”
Chapter Four
Brando
“We miss you too,” Scarlett was saying when I came down into the kitchen. She had been up since before dawn, doing photo shoots and then practice. The phone was wedged between her ear and shoulder, two pieces of paper in front of her, neat writing scribbled on each one—two lists.
Christmas Dinner. Gifts.
I slid my hands around her waist and then kissed her on the cheek. She turned her face, giving me her lips. After the kiss, I mouthed, “Who do we miss?”
She mouthed back, “Maggie Beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes and she thumped me on the chest. I could hear Maggie Beautiful’s voice on the other line.Waa waa waa—like one of those cartoon characters.
“That sounds like fun, really, it does. It’s just—” Scarlett took a deep breath and then released it. “Brando will have to take you and Aberto. I have rehearsals and obligations and performances.”
Maggie Beautiful went on. She had been to visit us a few times, but this was Aberto’s first trip to America.
“No, I’m all right. Yesssss!” Scarlett laughed. “I am—I’mnot! I’m just tired, Maggie Beautiful.”
“Not what?” I said.
She mouthed, “Pregnant.”
I took a step back, standing with my back against the counter so I could stare at her.
“I’m not!” she hissed. Then she slid theChristmas Dinnerlist at me, putting her hand over the receiver. “Ham or turkey?”
“Both,” I said, though my mind wasn’t on ham or turkey. “Eunice always makes gumbo after with the leftovers.”
She knew that, too, but she wanted to distract me.
“No, we’ll be there.” Scarlett turned, glancing at the fridge. She had magnetized calendars up, where she wrote personal things that were going on. Scrawled in red was Maggie Beautiful and Aberto’s name, a heart around the day they were supposed to arrive, the day after tomorrow, and the time. “Ah, we have a thing tonight, but Brando already moved the desk in the office and set the spare bed up. Plenty of room.”
“We have a thing tonight?” I said.
