“Stop!” I yell, turning to look back at him. I put my hand on his knee, but he kicks again and knocks over his bowl of soup. The hot liquid pours onto my jeans, and I jump up.
“Damn it!” I yell, and swipe at my clothes. Evan starts to thrash on the couch, and I reach to take him by the shoulders. “Evan, knock it off.”
He rips away from me, and his arm swings out and hits me in the mouth, pinching my lip against my tooth.
“Fuck,” I say to myself. I touch my lip, and when I bring my fingers down, I see that I’m bleeding. All at once the exhaustion, old bruises, and loneliness collide. My eyes blur with tears, and I stand there as Evan slides off the couch onto the floor, sobbing and miserable. He calls for our mother.
I back away, tears trickling down my face. Evan will probably cry himself to sleep tonight. I’ll probably do the same.
I wipe my cheeks and go into the kitchen to grab a piece of ice for my mouth. As I stand there at the freezer, I touch the cold cube to my lip with a wince.
There’s a knock at the front door. I quickly cross the house to open it, passing by Evan, who’s still crying on the floor. I’m relieved to find Retha on my porch, holding a brown grocery bag. Travis stands behind her.
“Jesus,” Retha says when she sees the ice at my lip. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” I say, and hold the door open to let them in. She pauses in front of me, gauging the situation.
“Your asshole father home?” she asks.
“No.”
“Good.” Retha heads inside and sets the groceries on the kitchen table. “And I brought those hot dogs.”
She walks straight to the couch and sits near where Evan lies on the carpet. Travis takes the chair across from her, putting his sneaker on the edge of the coffee table and avoiding the spilled soup.
Retha tightens her jaw; I know she hates seeing Evan like this, but she’s better at hiding it. She’s better at playing tough. “What’s going on, Evan?” she asks him. “Did you hit your sister again?”
Evan sniffles and lifts his eyes to look at Retha. She tilts her head, letting him know she’s not messing around.
“Yes,” he says quietly. He sounds sorry, and I lower the ice from my lip so he won’t feel guilty.
“Why?” Retha asks him.
“I wanted hot dogs,” he says, starting to cry again.
“No,” she says, holding up a warning finger. “No crying. You need to apologize to Savannah. Right now.”
Evan’s unable to actually stop crying, but he looks over at me. “I’m sorry, Savvy,” he says in his little voice.
“It’s okay, buddy.” His apology hurts my heart. “Just don’t do it again.”
He nods, and Retha reaches out her hand to him. “Come here,” she says. Evan immediately climbs onto the couch and snuggles up to Retha. She kisses the top of his head.
“Hey, Evan,” Travis says, leaning forward. “I brought you something.”
Evan wipes his sleeve under his nose. “What?” he asks.
Travis pulls out a package of Hostess cupcakes from his jacket pocket, and my brother practically jumps out of Retha’s arms. She’s quick to grab the back of his shirt to stop him.
“Not so fast,” she says. “First you need to clean up the mess you made.”
His bottom lip juts out, and I worry that he’ll have another tantrum, but he listens to Retha better than he listens to me. Evan gets on the carpet, and I help put the noodles in the tipped-over dish, while Travis grabs a towel from the kitchen to soak up the broth.
When it’s cleaned, Evan waits patiently on the couch, his feet swinging because they don’t reach the floor. Retha pretends to look him over like she’s still deciding if he deserves it. Then she asks Travis for the cupcakes.
“You getone,” she tells Evan.
“Right,” I add. “The other will be in your lunch for tomorrow, okay?”
