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It struck her as profoundly sad that they were only able to enjoy each other’s company like this because her father wasn’t here. He’d taken this from her, from all of them.
Ever since she’d left home, she’d told herself she didn’t have any need for family. But the truth was it would have been nice to have this these last few years. There was a special kind of connection you had with people who knew who you used to be and where you came from. It wasn’t the only kind of connection you could have, or even the most important, but there was something grounding about it. Something stabilizing.
Brooke had missed having that, even if she’d worked like hell to pretend she hadn’t.
It didn’t last long. Their mom started to fret about being away from their dad, and only ate half her food before packing up the rest “to nibble on later.” Justin shoved the last of his burger down his gullet and accompanied Debbie back to Ed’s room with the bags Brooke had brought.
That left Brooke and Dylan alone in the waiting room with Teddy. They continued eating in silence, but this time it was a more companionable silence than earlier.
Brooke studied her brother as he ate. Teddy had inherited their father’s looks and stolid gruffness, but the resemblance ended there. There was a gentleness to Teddy, and a hesitancy, that their father had never displayed.
“Do you still go by Teddy?” she asked him. It seemed funny that she didn’t even know if her brother still used his childhood nickname.
He shrugged. “It’s better than Ed.”
She certainly couldn’t blame him for not wanting to use their father’s name.
Brooke wondered if her brother was happy. There was so much she didn’t know about him. About either of them. About her whole family. All she had to go on were her mother’s cheerful updates over the years, which undoubtedly left out whole swaths of their lives.
She reached for her cherry limeade. “Did you know Dad was on antidepressants?”
Teddy looked up, surprised. “No.”
Dylan pushed himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go find the bathroom.” He gave Brooke’s shoulder a squeeze as he left her and her brother alone.
Teddy watched him go, frowning as he scratched the back of his head. “I don’t really know what to do with that.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Brooke agreed. It was impossible to reconcile depression with the father she remembered. Was she supposed to have more sympathy for him because of that? Or forgive him even? She wasn’t sure she could do that. “Have you seen much of Dad lately?” she asked.
Teddy shook his head. “Not really. I get together with Mom for lunch every month or so, but…” His lips pressed together. “You know how it was with Dad.”
“Yeah,” Brooke said. “I do.”
Their eyes met and held for a second before Teddy looked away. “I saw him at Christmas, and right after his surgery when he was first diagnosed. I kept offering to come by when he started chemo, but Mom always said he was too tired.”
“I wonder…” Brooke murmured, thinking of all the times over the last few years that her mom had made excuses for her dad, saying he was too tired to come to the phone.
Teddy looked at her. “What?”
“Just…I wonder how long he’s been depressed. If it’s a recent thing or something that’s been going on for years and Mom’s been hiding it for him.”
“I don’t know,” Teddy said. “Could be.”
Brooke popped her last tater tot in her mouth and squashed the carton flat. “You know…Mom didn’t even tell me about his cancer.”
Her brother looked surprised, but not shocked. “She didn’t?”
“Nope. I had to find out from Dylan, who found out from his mom. She told the neighbors but not me.”
“I didn’t know that,” Teddy said, looking regretful. “I would’ve…I guess I should have called you or something. I didn’t even think about it.”
Brooke shrugged as she wadded up her trash. “It’s not your fault. I haven’t been around much.”
“Can’t really blame you for that.”
She looked at her brother, trying to figure out if he was speaking generally, or if he knew the actual reason she’d distanced herself. It was impossible to tell anything from his reticent demeanor.
“Hey, Brooke?” Justin said from the doorway.
