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He didn’t want to see his brother right now. Oliver never managed to put him in a better mood. Right now what he needed was a shower, a cold beer and a couple of episodes of his latest Nordic noir series, before working on his laptop until the early hours.
But hand in hand with the annoyance came a stab of guilt. He had meant to phone Oliver and tee up a time to meet, but all week he’d put it off and put it off; ignored the messages from his brother after quickly checking they weren’t from Alice. Then ignored the dent of disappointment that they weren’t from Alice.
He jiggled his keys as Oliver reached him. “What are you doing here?”
“I got a bit sick of being deflected.” Oliver smiled good-naturedly.
“Sorry. I’ve been mega busy. But now you’re here… if you don’t mind me having a quick shower, stay and share a beer.” He tried to sound as hospitable as possible, given he was covered in sweat.
“Sure. Or we could go for a bite to eat. Is there still that great Indian restaurant around here?”
“Vavoom Vindaloo?”
“Yes, that one.”
Vavoom Vindaloo was one of the best Indian restaurants north of the river and it was cavernous enough inside that it never failed to seat the people who regularly queued up outside. So, some time later, duly showered and changed, here Aaron was, seated opposite his immaculate older brother, sipping Kingfisher beer. He was fast running out of questions about and, quite frankly, interest in the book on investing for retirees Oliver and Dad were hatching up.
“And then we’ll do one for teens,” Oliver went on. “I’m hoping to get it into schools. Maybe even onto the national curriculum.”
Aaron nodded, wringing out a last grain of enthusiasm. “Sounds like your usual entrepreneurial self.”
“It’s not all about me.” Oliver sounded slightly offended. “I’m thinking of mine and Leonie’s future. Our kids. The broader future of the planet for generations to come.”
Oh my god, Oliver the omnipotent.
Aaron cast him what he knew was a mean-eyed look. “Don’t try and make out you don’t earn a nice tidy sum as well.”
“I never pretended not to. You can gain wealth through ethical means, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Are you implying litigation isn’t ethical?”
Oliver shook his head disbelievingly. “Jeesh. There was no criticism, implied or otherwise. Why do you always take what I say the wrong way?”
Aaron poked at a piece of butter chicken with his fork. “It’s your tone.”
“What about my tone?”
“Kind of smug and supercilious. Like you know better than anyone else.”
Oliver thrust back in his chair. “Boy, oh boy. This goes back to another time, bro. Put it back in its box.”
“Which box, Oliver? You have enough of them.”And all of them neatly colour-coded.By the thinning of Oliver’s lips, he got the inference. Suck on that,big bro.
“The one marked ‘in the past’, mate,” Oliver said grimly.
Aaron stared at his plate, his body tightening. One point to Oliver. An awkward silence ensued.
In a kinder tone, Oliver finally said, “Look, I know you had it rough after Mum died. And that I kind of backed off from you and let you get on with it. But we were both going through some pretty difficult stuff at the time.” He sighed. “Being four years older than you, I should have tried harder, but…”
“I know. I was shit to live with. Dad never lets me forget it.”
“Dad wasn’t great either; he really didn’t have a clue and he was grieving for Mum too. He was way too hard on you. All the stuff you went through—it wasn’t your fault. Dad realised that, after you’d…” Oliver paused and took a sip of his beer. The energy was spiky like it always was when Oliver tried to unpack that time. Just because he’d had therapy, he liked to shove the fact down Aaron’s throat.
“Do you still take medication?” Oliver asked, then quickly added, “That’s not a criticism, by the way. Whatever works.”
“Nope.” Aaron shifted in his seat. Not going there. Not with Oliver. Not with anyone. “No. I got off it at uni. I exercise instead.”
“That’s great.” Oliver resumed eating. “This food is even better than I remember. As good as most of the Indian restaurants in Sydney.”
