“That's it. We're eating at your place from here on out. Then I can give you shit for what you cook.”
“Sounds like a plan. Not sure you'll be able to handle my food though. I actually like adding seasoning.”
“You mean so much spice, I feel like I'm breathing fire for a week.”
I huff out a laugh, taking down some plates. “Yeah, yeah. That's just good cooking. Sometimes I feel like we were raised in two different households.”
“Sometimes I wish we were.” He side eyes me, digging out the silverware I can tell he rarely ever uses by how new it looks. My brother is more of an eat out of a container or from the pan kind of guy with plastic wear. He's so busy, he doesn't have time for a sink full of dishes but he always squeezes in enough for home cooked meals.
We both make our way to the table and I help him finish setting it up while he sets the food in the center. I grab the pitcher of sweet tea from thefridge and fill our cups. We loud our own plates and eat in silence. He was right about me feeling awkward. We're related but feel like strangers most days. Sure we know the mundane shit, like what we do for a living and that we both prefer to live alone but that's the extent of it.
I can't tell you what his favorite movie is or if he even watches them since he has no TV out in the living room. I've never seen any of the other rooms in his house aside from what's visible from the kitchen and the guest bathroom. I think he has a backyard and there's a stray cat who sometimes scratches at the front door when I'm here. He says it's not his but when he thinks my car is out of sight, I spot him pouring food into a bowl. He has a thing for taking care of helpless things in a much different way than me.
My mind goes back to my little Bo. It never stays too far away. He really did look good in that pink off the shoulder shirt. Then again he looks good in everything but better with nothing at all.
Clearing his throat across the table, my brother fills his glass with wine first and I take a swig straight from the bottle, earning me a disapproving glance.
“Have any big plans tonight?”
“Not really,” I say flatly, trying hard not to give away the excitement running through me about my little video date with Bo later. Or will it be more than that?
“I see.” He arches a brow. “No working late or traveling for a client?”
“Not today. Taking it easy this week.”
“I heard you have a new neighbor.”
I choke on my next breath. “Did you?”
“Yeah. The delivery guy told me someone new has been answering the door.”
“Ah yeah. The little red head,” I say without missing a beat.
“Have you met him yet? Is he living there permanently?”
“Briefly. On more than one occasion.” I dab my mouth with a napkin. “He has issues keeping his animals in his yard and I'm not sure how long he's there for but sounds like he may only be there watching the place for his sick brother.”
“Oh. Not too many newcomers move out here so it's always news when someone does. Hopefully you're not being too unwelcoming,” he says smugly and I grunt.
“Of course not. I went right over there on the first day he moved in with a basket of muffins.”
He sputters a laugh, tossing his napkin forward. “The only way I'd believe that is if you poisoned them.”
“Nah, I only poison neighbors when I'm getting paid to do so. I don't do freebies.”
“Well this has been a fun dinner conversation.”
A laugh spills from my lips and I finish off my glass of wine. “Yes and I can't wait to do it all again next week.”
We finish eating and he offers me some cookie cake for dessert. Taking it out on the patio, we sit outside, drinking more wine with comfortable silence stretching between us. There's less pressure to talk when the sound of nature surrounds us, chirping and fluttering. After a second helping of cookie cake, I tap my brother on the shoulder goodbye. We don't do the whole hugging thing. It was something that never happened in our home growing up so it doesn't feel natural to do it now.
Only one person has made me want to wrap my arms around him and he's waiting for me to watch him. My brother waves me off from the porch and I take my time driving back home, trying not to look at my phone. I don't need to when I finally arrive back at my house because I can see his car perfectly from where I'm sitting. Right in his driveway with no one inside.
His front door opens and he has a basket in his hand. It swings at his side as he moves his lips. Him adding dancing into his steps confirms he'ssinging. Stopping in front of one of the peach trees, he rubs at his forehead and then looks down at the ground. Bending his knees, he picks up one peach at a time, observing each one carefully before placing it in the basket.
He stands back up and picks some fruit off the tree branches, jumping up when he can't reach anymore. Using a stick, he hits and misses his target, falling back on his ass. Looking around, he slowly gets up, dusting off his pants. Scoping out his surroundings again, he disappears behind the house and returns minutes later with a ladder. It drags behind him, jumping up and down on his shoulder with each step he takes.
The top of the ladder crashes with the tree and he steadies himself on the ground to keep from falling again. Shaking my head, I let out a sigh and walk his way. He does everything the hard way, doesn't he, even making something easy more complicated than it would be for anyone else.
