I flushed as I got back behind the wheel, painfully aware that calling her would have been simpler—and far less revealing. I drove her to the grocery store at her request while she talked animatedly about everything she needed to cook and bake.
Lucas this. Lucas that.
I dropped her off at her apartment and drove straight to my parents’ house, the name looping in my mind until it lost meaning altogether.Lucas. Loopers. Look-at-us.He sounded like a douchebag. I wondered how serious they were, and hated myself for wondering.
Dinner at my parents’house had started to feel different, and I didn’t miss the shift. I noticed it the moment I stepped through the door and wasn’t met with the usual polite distance, the barely concealed assessment of whether I would disappoint them again. There were no guarded pauses, no brittle politeness stretched too thin.
One weekend, when Simon complained about one of the firm’s building contracts—a client insisting on a design that didn’t work structurally—my father listened patiently, nodding as he always did.
“If you want,” I said carefully, not pushing, “maybe I can help.”
Simon narrowed his eyes, the old reflex kicking in. “Help does not mean screwing their daughter.”
I snorted before I could stop myself. “Ha. Very funny.” Then, more seriously, “I meant I could take a quick look. Just suggest something.”
After lunch, he followed me into our father’s study. I pointed at the screen, walking him through the adjustment—remove the column, redistribute the load, open the space without compromising the structure.
“Huh,” Simon said finally, leaning closer. “I think you’re right.”
There it was—the reluctant admission.
He patted my back, quick and rough. “Well done, baby brother.”
It shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did, but it did.
A few days later, I had stopped by headquarters to see Sophia. “Bruce’s birthday is coming up,” I said after some small talk. “He’s been going on about a new set of golf clubs. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to get them, or if I should.”
She stared at me like I’d just spoken a foreign language. “I… wow.” She touched her throat. “Yes. You can get them. You know which ones he wants.”
Since I was there, I asked her to lunch.
Suspicion immediately flickered across her face. Narrowing her eyes, she pressed her lips. “What do you want, Caleb? You’ve never come to the office like this before, much less to discuss gift ideas.”
“I don’t want anything,” I said, slumping back in the chair and staring down at my hands. “I just wanted to have lunch with my sister.”
“Lunch? That’s all?”
“Actually, never mind,” I said, pushing back up to my feet. “I forgot, but I’ve got some things I need to catch up on.” And then I left her office.
She had probably thought I wanted money when all I was looking for was to enjoy her company.
Arriving home, I hugged Cooper and ruffled the fur on his neck. “Am I that bad? Do they think I’m that selfish?” I was trying to make things right between my siblings.
The next day, Sophia called me to set up a lunch date. Over a meal of burgers and milkshakes, she apologized for her terse manner, and the two of us chatted and bonded.
“Adam thinks it’s okay to correct his teacher’s grammar now that he is in grade two,” she said when I enquired about the kids.
“That must go down well. Amy will probably be worse, though. She starts next year, right?”
“Oh, she’s got Bruce dancing around to her tune already.” She laughed and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “They’re so delightful... most of the time!”
“I miss them,” I bit into a fry. “I can’t wait to see them on the weekend.”
She held my hand over the table. “It’s good to have you back.”
A sense of belonging lodged in my chest. I hadn’t realized I’d been starving for it until it was finally fed.
Over the next few weeks, Simon scowled less. He included me more. Dinner invitations followed. I stayed the night a couple of times at Simon’s and Sophia’s house. Conversations stretched long after the kids went to bed.
