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Taking a seat, I drank my water. “Don’t think of medical school as a fallback plan. If you don’t want to be a doctor, Logan, then you can’t be doctor, no matter how hard you force yourself. Make music. Your songs aren’t half bad; I listened to them while I was running this morning. You have talent.”
“Who are you, and where is my older brother? God, how drunk am I?” he muttered, falling into the seat beside me.
I smacked him over the head.
“Yep, it’s you,” he groaned, rubbing the spot. “I don’t get it. Last night you were one minute away from killing me. You looked so disappointed.”
“Logan.” I sighed. “I’m sorry. Over the years, I’ve never asked you what you wanted to do with your life. I just made decisions for you and forced you to do what I thought was right for you. You aren’t me, and I’m not you. I can’t keep coaching you, nor am I going to stand in your way. So, I’m just going to be your brother on the sidelines. My only job is to cheer you on, no matter what. It might take me a while to adjust, so be patient with me, but I promise I will try.”
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just took a deep breath. “Thank you, Eli.”
“I have no idea why you are thanking me.” I tried to brush it off, taking the frame from the side table and giving it to him.
“What is this?” He stopped, just staring at it. “Is that—”
“Us, plus Mom and Dad. Yeah, Guinevere painted it. We have copies; apparently she’s giving the original to Mother.”
“It looks so real. For a second, I thought: when did we take this?” He laughed. “She’s amazing.”
“She really is,” I said to myself.
Guinevere
I bit my spoon and opened my yogurt as she came over to me, her heels clicking on the floor before she sat down, placing a cup of coffee in front of me.
“Mrs—Dr. Davenport, good afternoon,” I said once I put the spoon down.
She smiled. “Gwen, you can call me Meryl, it’s fine. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m taking a small lunch break before starting my first round of painting.”
“I went by to have a sneak peek, but sadly your curtain is already up. I think I saw a few younger students here with you last night?” She stirred her coffee.
“Oh yeah, they helped me finish tracing it onto
the wall. At first I thought I could do it alone, but that would have taken me weeks. I promise, when I’m done, I will let you be the first to see it.”
She nodded, holding her cup.
“Is everything all right?”
“My sons. They often think I don’t know or don’t see everything that happens to them. For the most part, I just let them think I’m clueless. What neither knows is that they, like their father, have a tendency to ramble when they're drunk.”
What? Why was she telling me this? “I don’t understand…”
“Last night—well, early this morning, Logan stumbled into our home an absolute mess, and he was upset with himself. He kept asking why couldn’t he just be like Eli, and saying he didn’t want to let us down. Then, thirty minutes ago, he comes to my office, clear-minded and sober, with his brother, telling me he’s dropped out of medical school and is going on tour.” She giggled.
I wasn’t sure if it was a nervous giggle or a happy one. “Are you upset?”
She shook her head, just staring. “Not at all. Whatever my son wants to do, I will always support him. I knew he wasn’t passionate about medicine, so I wasn’t too surprised. What caught me off guard was Eli. I was expecting to have to calm him down and remind him he can’t control his brother's life…but for some reason I didn’t need to do that. And I got to wondering, besides me, who else can break through that thick head of his? Next thing I know, I’m looking for you.”
Why was I so nervous? Brushing my hair back, I nodded. “I heard them fighting, and I talked to Eli afterward—”
“Thank you, Gwen.” She put her hand on mine. “Thank you for being there for him. At first, I told myself he was only pretending to be all right for our sake, and then I realized he really is happy. So thank you. I hope I’m not putting too much on your shoulders. I know you two are friends, right?”
I felt like she was trying to read me, and I took a bite of my yogurt, looking away. Only I wished I hadn’t, because then I saw Hannah and her pretty, curled golden hair as she held her tray and sat three seats behind us. Her eyes met mine, and I was forced to look back at Meryl. She glanced over, and Hannah’s head dropped, eating her soup.
“She must still bother you. I never said I’m sorry for what you had to go through on that day. I can’t even imagine.”
