I make a quick dinner for Camille and me, and we talk about family and siblings. Christmas and birthdays. The differences between our lives, and even our ages.
She’s seventeen years younger than me. It’s a hell of a gap. I’ve never thought much about ages before, but with the stark difference in our upbringing plus about a century in life experience, it feels more like a chasm.
All the more reason to keep my distance.
Except that the more we talk, the more I like Camille. Behind that quiet beauty is a deep kindness and a curiosity about the world she’s never been allowed to explore. I want to be there when she discovers the things most of us take for granted, like driving or having a snowball fight.
And I want some of those moments to be ours. Firsts we share together.
Like falling in love.
The one thing we didn’t discuss was the future, neither willing to put words to what might happen in the days to come.
I clear the table and put food away, then start on the dishes.
“Can I help?” Camille asks as she comes up beside me.
I’d be willing to bet she’s never done a dish in her life. She’s not going to start now. “No. Why don’t you go get another bath? Relax.”
She hesitates, and I sense she wants to ask me something. Instead, she nods and walks away.
I hear her run the bath and try not to picture her in it.
Needing a distraction in the worst way, I reach for my phone and send a text to Dallas. The only time we talk is when he calls me. Given the nature of his work, I dare not call him.
Bronco: Give Ford a call when you can. He has news
His response comes a minute later.
Dallas: Good or bad?
Bronco: Depends on your take. Good for him
Dallas: Okay
Dallas: You good?
I stare at the two words, not sure how to respond.
Bronco: Yeah. Difficult assignment
Dallas: Call if you need me. I’m close
He is? I want to ask where. I haven’t seen him for three years. As far as I know, I’m the only one in our family who has seen him in over a decade.
I glossed over that part when telling the story to Camille.
When Dallas went under the ice, he was the pain in the butt brother I knew and loved. The boy I pulled out a minute or two later had changed into someone I didn’t recognize at times.He explained it to me later, and though I understand, there are times I wish we could go back to the time before.
Bronco: Thanks, bro
Dallas:
I tuck the phone away. The skull and crossbones are Dallas’s form of humor. It’s his way of saying goodbye. And sometimes hello.
Pushing thoughts of my brother aside, I grab some clean clothes from the closet and an extra blanket and pillow. The couch won’t be near as comfortable as my bed, but it’s necessary.
If I get in that bed with Camille, I’m likely to take her in my arms again. This time, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back.
