“And your dad? You get along?”
I nodded again as I ate a spicy scallop roll. Dad got along with everyone, but he was easy-going and went with the flow. Meghan bossed him around, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“You ever wondered why Brandon and I don’t look alike?”
That was out of the blue, though perhaps related to the topic of siblings. I nodded. Christopher was tall with dark hair, icy blue eyes, and a Captain America physique. His shoulders were worth admiring. My cheeks turned pink at the thought. Brandon was slim and shorter with brown hair and brown eyes. He had a scientist vibe about him, perhaps enhanced by his distracted air. He was always thinking of his work. I’d seen no similarity in their features. I’d assumed they took after different sides of the family. Meghan and I also looked little alike. I’d never met their parents, who now lived in Florida, so I hadn’t been able to compare or look for family traits.
“His family adopted me when I was a kid,” he said as he captured another roll.
I looked up, my eyes widening. I wanted to hear this story.
“I know,” he said. “Brandon and I are brothers now, but first we were friends in elementary school. He used to look out for me. My mom split when I was little, leaving me with my dad. Problem was, my father drank, and he wasn’t good at looking after a kid. He disappeared when I was in second grade. I looked after myself for about a week, but I ran out of food. I told Brandon, figuring he could bring me supplies from his house.”
My heart went out to him. I related to having a parent who drank, but I couldn’t imagine being abandoned. My mother had trouble being an exemplary mother, but I’d been able to count on my dad. After her death, he’d stepped up taking dual parental roles. He baked a mean batch of butterscotch chocolate chip cookies.
Christopher chewed another roll, then continued. “Brandon told his parents, and they took me in. Instead of sending me to foster care, the Winters kept me. It started out as short-term, but the state let me stay. When I was nine, they made it official. Signed adoption papers when my father gave up his parental rights. I’ve been lucky with how my life turned out. It could have been very different. I owe that to Brandon. If someone’s trying to hurt him or mess him up, I have to help.”
I’d never heard personal information about Christopher before. It made me see him in a different light. His life hadn’t been perfect. It made me wonder how well I’d known Brandon that this was new information.
“The cops said Brandon’s coma was from a drug overdose. We know that’s wrong. There’s no way.”I was proud I could now type his name without trouble. I was becoming used to talking and thinking about him again after avoiding it for years.
Christopher clenched his jaw but said nothing. He speared a piece of salmon sashimi with a chopstick.
“It’s something from work. He’s switched his specialty to a venomous scorpion. They want to inject it into people. He said it wasn’t ready for human trials, that the test subjects died.”
“How do you know?” He turned his piercing gaze back on me.
I fought the urge to squirm.“I might have overheard a phone call last Tuesday night. I might also have snooped on his phone and in his office when he fell asleep.”I grimaced, ashamed to admit this invasion of privacy.“That’s how I got your number.”
“Good for you.”
I looked up, surprised at this reaction. I forwarded pictures of the files and Brandon’s messages from work.“If any of this makes sense, let me know.”
“Thanks. I’ll read through them later.”
It was eight o’clock, and we were taking a break from sushi when Christopher said, “What does the rest of your evening look like?”
“I appreciate dinner. You don’t have to entertain me.”
“No, seriously, I’m too full to move. You’d be doing me a favor. If you don’t mind, I’m going to intrude for a while longer.”
I found I liked his company. I wasn’t planning anything exciting, another typical night in, so I pointed to the TV.
“Perfect. Anything in particular?”
I sent him a picture of Buffy.
He laughed and moved to the couch. “I used to love that show. I haven’t seen it in ages. Can I watch?”
“No date tonight?”I said, surprised he was free.
“I seldom date.”
My eyebrows moved skyward. There’d been a string of model-type women his future self had paraded through the office. I remembered him mentioning that he hadn’t handled Brandon’s death well.
“What?” he said, seeing the look on my face.
“After 2019, you date a lot. Different girls every week or two.”
