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“Yeah,” I muttered, walking up the front walk.

“Heard about your day. Sorry man,” my brother said sincerely, blowing out a breath of smoke he’d just inhaled from his cigar.

My brother and I weren’t what you would call ‘close.’

We were family, of course, but that’s where that ended.

He was the prodigal son. The one who did everything right, while I did everything wrong.

And sometimes it was hard not to resent that.

Really hard.

“Thanks,” I muttered, opening the door once I came to it.

The first thing I noticed was that no one was in the living room where they usually were, and that I could smell dinner wafting from the kitchen.

The smell turned my stomach.

Eating was the last thing I wanted to do right then.

Not with the memory of Baby Nathan’s blood pouring out of his body as I held him on the way to the hospital.

“He’s not coming, I think we should just eat,” Joslin said huffily.

I rolled my eyes as I made my way down the darkened hallways that would lead to the kitchen and formal dining room where I assumed they were all gathered.

“He’s coming. He texted me when he was leaving the hospital,” my sister, Hannah, defended.

Hannah and I were the closest in age.

Irish twins.

She was born ten months before me, in the same year.

Me, being the baby, was the surprise that everyone still liked to point out was the accident.

“Thanks, Hannah,” I said, walking into the kitchen and placing my pie on the countertop. “I’m here, so the party may begin.”

The last was said once I was in the dining room, which meant everyone turned to watch me walk in the room.

My father and Hannah didn’t bat an eyelash at my attire.

My mother and Joslin, though, did.

Not that I cared.

Nor was I surprised.

Taking the seat to the right of my dad, and directly next to Hanna, I placed both hands in my lap and waited, like the good boy I was, for dinner to be served.

Which only happened once Dean made his way back inside from his smoke break.

All the while, I spoke with my sister about her daughter, Reggie.

Reggie was a boisterous two and a half year old that was with her ex-husband for the night.

“Reggie told me I was to ‘watch my step’ today because I was telling her what to do. Can you believe that? I bet Joshua taught her that one, too,” Hannah said snottily.

I snorted.

Needless to say, Hanna and her ex didn’t get along.

Not even a little bit.

“Actually,” I amended. “That was me. I’m sorry. I said that to her two days ago when I was watching her.”

Hannah sighed. “I guess I should be happy you didn’t teach her how to say cuss words, I suppose.”

My father snorted. “You and Michael were cussing by the time y’all were three and four. Mainly because your Uncle Paddy thought it’d be funny to teach you them. It was real exciting to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting a car and have the two of you say ‘fuck you’ and ‘what the fuck’ respectively.”

Hannah giggled while I laughed.

My mother, on the other hand, didn’t.

Apparently, she didn’t find it funny.

“Alright, we can eat now,” Joslin cooed as Dean made his way into the room, breaking the silent death glare I was getting from my mother.

Once grace was said by my father, he started to serve himself, and passed the dish around the table.

Once I dished up two pieces, I passed it to my sister, and then so on.

We didn’t do a sit down dinner often, but when we did, we were expected to actually sit down at the table instead of in front of the TV like we wanted to.

“It’s good, Beth,” my father said around a mouthful of food.

My mother smiled. “Thanks.”

I looked down at my untouched food, and couldn’t say the same.

It reminded me of the gore from the double wide.

What I’d later learned was a cop from a neighboring city, and his wife, who was a stay at home mom to their ten month old.

And as I picked at my food, I couldn’t help thinking about the cop.

What had happened?

Had he slipped through the cracks?

Had he needed help, and no one noticed?

Would I have noticed had he been my friend?

If someone had intervened, would the mom still be alive? Would that baby growing in her belly still be sheltered in her mother’s womb?

“Michael, Joslin tells me you had an interesting day,” my mother said, bringing my attention from my plate to her.

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. Nothing special.”

Joslin, never one to let something go, sat forward.

“You saved that baby’s life. You’re the reason that he’s alive! You’re the talk of the hospital,” Joslin crowed.

I shrugged, not answering.

I really, really didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Like really.

So much so, that if she continued not to catch the hint, I might have to leave.

“Well, I have some news,” my brother said, breaking the awkward silence.

I turned my attention to him, and saw him watching Joslin weirdly.

“We’re engaged!” Dean smiled, holding Joslin’s entwined hand up with his.

I blinked, surprised.

My mother, who loved Joslin to pieces, stood up and clapped loudly.

My father and Hannah, though, turned to me, watching me for a reaction.

I shrugged again.

I didn’t care.

I should warn Dean, though.

They didn’t know why Joslin and I had broken up.

They only thought that the dissolution of our marriage had happened because we’d fallen out of love. Joslin had practically begged me not to tell them because she and my mom had grown so close.

“Congratulations!” My mother crowed excitedly.

“You okay?” My father asked worriedly.

That was when I realized he’d known.

That was what the hesitation had been about earlier.

“Fine, why?” I asked.

Hannah looked at me, almost as if she was waiting for me to break apart.

“You’re sure?” She asked persistently.

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s good for them,” I lied.

I really should’ve told them why we’d split. Yet, I couldn’t because Joslin had acted like…well…Joslin.

“Mom,” I said, standing. “Do you mind if I have a sandwich? After today, this isn’t very…appealing.”

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