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The other was righteousness. Be good. Follow the rules. Don’t stray from the path. Essentially, don’t be likethem.
The former was really my mother’s work. And the latter was my father’s.
My mother is a fucking saint. My father is a judgmental prick.
Guess which way I lean?
“I don’t know, Adam,” I grumble. I don’t say it out loud, but I immediately think of Abby, my six-year-old. I’ve got a little girl to protect. I can’t just be inviting strangers onto our property, even if it’s not in our home. I barely know this guy.
Immediately picking up on my hesitation, Adam says, “I get it, Caleb. I understand you have a family to protect, but Sage and I can vouch for this guy. He’s a hard worker. He’s honest. And it’s not like he’d be living in your house.”
I don’t respond, letting the line go quiet again as I consider what he’s requesting.
He probably should have known that had he gone to Briar with this request, she would have accepted without an ounce of distrust. Like my mother, my wife is a fucking saint.
But I’m not.
And that’s when Adam hits me with the real gut wrencher.
The unspoken thing.
The grief-shaped elephant in the room.
“Besides,” he starts quietly. “This is Isaac’s friend.”
“Low blow,” I reply.
“I know, I know,” he mumbles.
The line grows quiet once again and thick with tension. There’s a moment in our silence when I wonder if Adam is thinking the exact same thing I’m thinking—a tie to Isaac’s past is a tie to Isaac.
My brother has no idea that I see Isaac’s face on a phone screen every single day. But I have my suspicions that Adam is looking for him, too, although we’ve never really spoken about it.
And yet, here we are, eating up crumbs our brother left behind.
Renting that room to Dean Sheridan is not going to bring Isaac back into my life. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel like, in some small way, I’d have a piece of him.
Then I remember the last night I saw Dean Sheridan. It’s possible he’s grown out of his teenage resentment toward me, but not likely. If it’s anything like it was twelve years ago, he hates my fucking guts. I doubt he would even accept a room for rent on my property. Even if I let him stay there for free.
But I decide not to tell Adam that part. He doesn’t need to know all the dirty details of what went down before Isaac left.
The phone line has been quiet for a few minutes when Adam tries one more tactic.
“Listen, if you don’t want to help the guy, then don’t help him,” he says condescendingly.
I quickly cut him off. “Oh, don’t play that holier-than-thou shit with me, Adam. I picked you up from the county jail last year, remember?”
He doesn’t respond, and I let him hear my throaty chuckle. He should know better than to try and manipulate a lawyer.
But without another response from him, I know the ball is now in my court.
“Let me talk to Briar about it, okay?” I say to at least appease him for now.
“Of course,” Adam replies.
“And you’re sure this guy doesn’t have any other place to go?” I ask.
“I’m sure.”
