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Wide awake, and excited.
* * *
An hour later, I sit down across from a bleary-eyed Clay at the Blue Moose Coffee Shop.
He slides a paper cup of coffee my way. “You sounded different on the phone,” he says.
“Yeah, I feel different.”
He doesn’t pry into that statement. “Was the Queen’s Room pretty cool?”
“So cool.”
“Grandma always said that castle was the best thing about this town.”
“I think she was right.”
I don’t even feel nervous as I tent my hands together, fingertips touching, and study my little brother.
Brock did this same gesture once when I spoke with him. I thought it looked so intimidating, a pose I’d never pull off. Right now, though, I feel like a boss. A person in charge.
Clay’s too busy stirring sugar into his drink to talk. He’s unshaven, and his shoulders are slumped as usual. This morning, when I look at him, I don’t see his baby-faced cheeks, and I don’t remember pulling him around in a wagon.
I see a man who’s nearly thirty. A person with just as many hidden capabilities as I have.
I underestimated myself, I think as I sip my coffee. And I underestimated Clay, too.
“Listen, we have to talk,” I say.
“‘Bout what?”
“About the house and our roles, fixing it up. What’s expected, what’s fair.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I need you to take on more responsibility. I’ve been spending a lot of my own funds on contract labor, and that has to stop. I want you to pitch in more with the list of tasks. I’ve been afraid to talk to you about it because I feel so protective of you. But me coddling you doesn’t help anything, does it? Tiptoeing around the issues, hiding things… that doesn’t work. I think the state of the house reflects that.”
He sits back in his seat. When he rubs his fingers along the stubble on his chin, my first doubts come crashing in.
Did I just break my fragile brother? Is he going to collapse, retreat back into the video games he loves so much, and not talk to me for the rest of my days on this earth?
No. I force the barrage of nonsense in my brain to just stop already.
And then, I wait.
He rubs his chin some more, then sips his coffee. “Cool.”
I arch an eyebrow. A grin tickles the corner of my mouth. “Cool? That’s it?”
He breaks into a smile. “I mean, cool that you’re finally talking to me about this. I knew you were upset about something, just couldn’t figure out what. Yeah… I’ve been slacking, big time. I guess my knee isn’t as bad as I thought at first. Maybe I played that up too much. Sorry about that. I thought that was better than me getting in the way. I didn’t realize you wanted more out of me.”
“I do. And you’re capable of more.” I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “In all sorts of ways, you know? Like, your whole life. You’re going to find a job you love and maybe a relationship, too, if you want. Get out of the house… the whole thing. And flipping our place would be a really great start.”
He nods. When he meets my eye, there’s a new spark lighting his irises. “Yeah… maybe if we made some money, I could put down a deposit on a rental.”
“Absolutely! Hey, my boss told me about these classes at the hardware store. They’re doing a how-to series about saws, coming up real soon. Chain saws, circular saws, and table saws. I could sign us up.”
He smiles. Actually smiles. I haven’t seen Clay smile this big in years. “Yeah. Let’s go for it. That sounds rad.”
