He laughed. “You wouldn’t know this, but my mentor in law school was a religious man with a beard. He was the one who helped me find Keston.”
I’d never heard the story, and Keston sure as hell wasn’t one to open up about it. “Howdidthat happen? Didn’t you get to see each other growing up?”
“No. I didn’t even know I had a brother. The story I was able to piece together from my file was that my mother had me first and gave me up. Four years later, she had Keston. They lived in a shelter for a few years. One day she left and never returned. She abandoned him, and I don’t know how a child ever recovers from that trauma.”
My eyes smarted with unshed tears. “I’m not sure you can.”
“I agree,” Grady said, his voice rough with restrained emotion. “He was put in foster care after she disappeared. I was born in Brooklyn, and he was left in Manhattan. Youknow how the city works—no coordination all those years ago. In college I worked at ACS for a while as a summer job and they fingerprinted me. Keston, because he’d been arrested a few times, was already in the system. Our names popped up as related from our mother’s prints from her record.”
Fascinated, I listened, sadly aware of how many kids fell through the cracks.
“I got in my share of scrapes as a teenager—I didn’t straighten myself out until I got my GED, went to college, and discovered I wasn’t just another dumbass kid.”
This was a fascinating insight into not only the two brothers’ relationship, but why Keston might be so emotionally unavailable. Abandonment, especially as a young child, did a terrible number on a child’s psyche. That scenario was one I knew only too well.
“Yeah, you’re the furthest thing from that. And now I see why you became a psychologist, and also a lawyer who specializes in foster care and adoption. It must’ve been incredibly hard for the two of you when you finally reunited.”
“That’s a story for another day,” Grady laughed, but I didn’t miss the tension in his voice and knew this unexpected soul-baring conversation was finished. “So you’ll come?”
“Yeah, of course. But please. Don’t plan for Keston and me to become a thing. He’s not interested.”
“Are you?”
Aha.I was so not falling into that trap. “I’m not into puppy-dogging anyone. Keston and I had fun, and now that it’s over, I’m sure we can both act like adults and move on.”
“Mmm, maybe.”
I didn’t comment on his noncommittal remark. “Text me the address. And congratulations again, man. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. See you Friday.”
No longer interested in what was on television, I picked up my beer and wandered to the picture window with its view of 85st Street. Fall was upon us, and I stared up into the trees, memories rustling like the crispy-edged leaves silhouetted against the night sky. I missed my dad. Sick as he was, he’d still gather the strength to encourage me. He’d tell me I was special, and loved, and that one day I’d find someone who’d give me everything I’d ever wanted.
But all I wanted was my father, and he’d died, and I knew love and the stupid happily ever after in those rom-coms weren’t real. Life was hard, and it sucked.
Aren’t you a merry fucking ball of sunshine…
I took another long swallow of my beer, watching a few leaves left on the tree branches drift down and blow away. The streetlights glowed, highlighting a happy couple walking hand in hand up the block. Times like this, I hated being by myself. I could change clothes, head out to a club, and find someone who’d chase away the loneliness…but maybe I’d matured, because after I finished my beer, I took a shower and went to bed.
**
Friday afternoon I rented a car and debated texting Keston to see if he needed a ride, but as fast as that thought entered my mind, I squashed it. “Jesus, you’re an ass. His brother is throwing the party. You think he’s not there? He doesn’t need your help.”
It took the better part of two hours, and the sun had set by the time I found the godforsaken place in the woods. I parked my car next to the others and followed the sound of laughter.
“Grady, where the hell are you?” I called out, hefting my travel bag on my shoulder. “My people already wandered the desert for forty years. That’s why we stay in civilization with great bagel places.”
A tall figure appeared in the moonlight, and my heart tripped and began to beat like mad. I took a step back.
“What’s the matter, Uptown Boy? You don’t like communing with nature?” Keston’s husky voice rasped against my tight-as-a-violin-bow nerves. He moved closer, and I drank in the sight of him in a bulky fisherman-knit gray sweater and faded jeans. All that dark hair lay in messy waves over his brow, and his cheeks were rough with several days’ stubble.
I’d like to commune with your nature…
“Hi. Where’s your brother? I have a gift for him and his beautiful bride-to-be.”
Maybe Keston expected me to flirt with him or be friendlier, but during the drive upstate I’d promised myself this weekend I’d keep my distance and not give in to my desire. A whole weekend of temptation would be a battle for sure, but I could be strong. Even if the object of my lust looked like an advertisement for the great outdoors.
“Everyone’s out by the firepit. I just got here about half an hour ago. Grady’s got drinks set up. Follow me.”
