Jack closes his eyes and leans back against the gray sofa he’s sitting on. He looks exhausted, with dark shadows under his eyes; he’s pale. And it’s August in Atlanta.
“Have you been outside at all?” I ask him. Okay, maybe it’s more of a chastisement, but the guy needs some vitamin D.
“A little, why?” Jack asks. He quirks his head to the side, as though he’s confused.
“Because you look like shit,” I say honestly. “You don’t usually look like this.”
“Thank you for the amazing compliment,” my brother says sarcastically. “Your mother has been calling me drunk every night. I’m worried, and tired and feel powerless.” He sighs heavily, running a hand over his face.
I have no problem acknowledging that my brother is a good-looking guy. Jack’s tall, in good shape for a guy with a desk job, okay, better than good, but gross, he’s still my brother, and he has dark brown hair and the same green eyes I have. He’s a replica of our dad. The man is so tall! I’m envious that gene seemed to skip over me.
“Why is she calling you?” I ask, concerned for him. “Don’t take her calls. Why do you let her manipulate you?” I’m definitely getting a little angry.
“Because I’m here, and she’s there. She calls and talks about Dad and you, and then I feel guilty because I’m far away and wasn’t there for most of it,” Jack says. His gaze drops, and I can see the shadow of regret on his crestfallen face.
“Jack, she didn’t do shit for Dad. Stop taking her calls. Maybe if she doesn’t have you as a crutch, she’ll grow the fuck up!” I suggest a bit forcefully, but he really needs to stop talking to her.
“You really hate her.” He sounds so defeated.
But I don’t hate her. I’m sad at her. I’m just so fucking sad.
I shake my head at my brother. “Wouldn’t this be so much easier if I did hate her?” I ask. I stand up and walk to the edge of the pool and sit, letting my feet dangle over the edge, skimming the top of the water. “I’m done feeling bad when it comes to her. But either way, you need to stop talking to her! Seriously. Just don’t take her calls or answer her texts. She’s supposed to beourmother; you’re not her father.”
“When did you get to be so wise?” Jack asks, a small sideways grin lighting up his face.
I laugh. “If wise and tired of her bullshit mean the same thing, then sure, I’m very wise!” I say sagely, bowing my head.
“Whatever. You heading out for Austin today?”
“That’s my plan.”
I hang up with my brother and walk into the hotel. I quickly shower and change and get everything packed up and back in my car.
My timing is impeccable, though, because about an hour into my drive out of New Mexico, a random rainstorm hits. And I mean, hits hard! It’s so heavy, I have to pull off the road. An alert hits my phone to be aware of flash flooding! I don’t even know what that means.
“Raquel?” I say into the phone from the side of the road.
“Hey! Are you on your way?” she asks me excitedly.
“Well, I was and now I’m not.”
“Hun, you’re gonna have to explain,” she replies with a chuckle.
A clap of thunder booms in the distance, and it’s so strong it actually shakes my car. Yeah, I’m not driving in this.
“There’s a rainstorm. I can’t see very well. I’m gonna wait it out at a hotel for the day or maybe even stay one more night and try again in the morning.”
“Okay, sounds good. Better to be safe,” she says. “Hey, Mick, your mom called me.” Raquel sounds hesitant.
Ugh! “Why? Did you answer?” My mother is really something else!
“I did answer,” Raquel says with sass. And I mean alotof sass.
Raquel is from Texas. Her dad got a job working at the same technology company as my father and moved to Seattle during high school. But all she wanted to do was go back to Texas, so when we applied to universities, she got into and went to Texas.
After graduation, she moved to Austin and got a job at a startup as an engineer. Raquel is a Texan blonde bombshell with a big brain, not hair, unless it’s humid. But she’s fiercely loyal, and I love her to death.
“What did you do?” I ask, my lips twitching with suppressed laughter.
