“I did it!” Brandon exclaimed.
“You did! I’m so proud of you, pup.”
“I did it!”
“You did great, Bran,” Josh said.
I don’t know if droplets of water fell from Brandon’s hair onto his face, but he frantically wiped at it. Though he was in James’s arms, I could tell he was starting to panic some.
“Come on, we’re almost to the shore,” Josh said as he put his hand on Brandon’s back to encourage him to walk toward the shore.
I walked into the water toward them with the towel.
“Easy, pup,” James soothed.
“Got water on my face near my mouth,” Brandon tried to explain while Josh and I gently patted his face and hair with the towels.
“It’s okay, Brandon. You did very well, and I’m so proud of you.” James calmed him.
“And Josh and Andrew were here to see it.” Brandon smiled.
“I’m glad I was here, Bran,” I told him sincerely. For everything that Brandon had been through, this was one of the most important things I could have done for him.
12
Andrew
My dad was already pouring over the schedule as he sat at “our” table by the window when I arrived. Every other Monday, Dad and I would get together to go over the upcoming month’s schedule of staff and deliveries. I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed over to the table with him, ignoring the vibrating cell phone in my pocket.
“Morning, son,” Dad said when I sat down. He looked up at me and took his reading glasses off.
“Hey, morning,” I said.
“Andrew, you look like hell.”
“I’m just tired.”
“I can see that. Are you working too much between here and that nightclub?”
“No, it’s not that. Work is fine.”
“Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I don’t know,” I lied.
I hadn’t been able to sleep very well all weekend. I had been pissed off about Elise putting in for a plea change again on Friday. Even though the weekend was full of good stuff, like dinner with the guys, being around to watch Brandon swim, and seeing Tabitha at Oxygen Saturday night, my mind couldn’t shut Elise out at night.
“Is it stress?”
God, yes.
“Andrew, if it’s depression, remember we need to talk about it or seek out professional help.”
I knew where Dad was quickly going. He was worrying that I was on my way to suffering in silence. Despite all the time that had elapsed from my mom and brothers’ passing, Dad would still get as stressed out when he was worried that I might be stressed or heading for depression.
“Dad, relax. I’m not depressed. I’m just tired.”
“Is your mom on your mind?”
