“Dad,” Nick’s voice comes out distorted.
“I knew you’d come back.”
My father joins the hug and all three of them remain that way for a few seconds, still in the doorway.
“You did it,” Ryan whispers in my ear. “You reunited the family.”
I nod emotionally.
“And now you’ve got to deal with this shit,” he adds before emptying his glass and going back in the other room.
* * *
We all sitat the table in the living room, much to Mum’s delight. Nick tells us about his most recent photo shoots, given that his days of talking about the actual sport have dwindled significantly.
He’s too cool and too much of an arsehole to be satisfied with just being a player, he prefers to be the public face of ten different brands of underwear, sports lines, watches and who knows what else. He’s forgotten that he’s first and foremost a rugby player and then – maybe –something good to look at.
Ryan sits in silence, keeping his eyes on his plate and his glass in his hand. He didn’t even say hello to Nick, which has not escaped my mother’s attention.
For the moment, everything is calm: no fighting, no knives to anyone’s throat.
Maybe we’ve grown up, able to have a civil conversation and potentially go back to being a normal family, before someone’s terrible decision threw us all up to our necks in a pile of shit.
“So, little Ryan got booted off the team, huh?”
I spoke too soon.
I kick Nick under the table, but he dodges it.
“Fuck you, Nick.”
“Please, boys.” Mum tries to come between them.
“What did I say?” Nick’s stupid face could be a punching bag. “Did I get it wrong?” he challenges, looking at Ryan in invitation.
“I took a break.”
“A break…huh. I guess you’re not that important to them.”
“As ifyouwere. You’re a model now, right?”
“Just for the fun and the money. At least I still have a place on the team.”
“Right. When they’re desperate for someone to send onto the field. What’s the matter, you’re not afraid of ruining your pretty face, are you?” Ryan slams down another glass and I can feel my head already exploding.
“Kids,” my father stands up and I choke on my water, afraid he’s having one of his moments. “Take your arguments elsewhere, not in front of your mother. I want you all in the garden, right now!”
Nick and Ryan get up huffing, and I look worriedly at my mother.
“You too, Ian.”
I stand up and follow them outside. My father closes the door and signals us to take a few steps away from the house so Mum can’t hear.
“I’m going to tell you this just once. I don’t want to repeat myself because I don’t know if I’ll be able to.”
“Dad,” I try to interrupt him, but he cuts me off, raising his hand.
“I’m happy you’re all here. Thank you, Ian, for bringing them home.”
