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My cell rings on the countertop. Unknown number. I wipe my hands on a dish towel that feels frankly luxurious and pick it up before it can stop ringing.
“Hi, this is Bristol.”
There’s a crackling, static sound, and then a voice: “Hey, little sister.”
“Hey yourself.” I smile at the pristine, empty sink. “I take it you have cell service for the next thirty seconds?”
My older brother, Sean, laughs. “A whole damn minute, if I can help it.”
He’s Black Ops, so when I told Will he wasn’t around, I meant it. I have no idea what part of the world he’s in half the time, and I always answer unknown numbers. He calls whenever he can.
“Are you doing okay?”
“The weather’s nice. Scenery’s picturesque.” That’s all he’ll ever say, even when I can hear a thunderstorm in the background. “What the hell’s going on over there? I got a message from Dad.”
“Seriously?”
“Anemail.” Sean scoffs. “Haven’t had a chance to check for weeks. Something about the roof. Aren’t you in the terrace of some duplex?”
“That was the last place. We’re in an apartment in New York City now.”
“Who’swe?”
I sigh, stepping back from the sink and moving through the kitchen. Checking cupboards. Checking the fridge. We have all-new silverware and dishware. A fully stocked pantry. A fridge and freezer nearly at capacity with food that’s been out of our budget for years.
“Me and Mia and Ben.”
“Did that bastard have somewhere better to be?”
“I don’t know. He took off the night the roof caved in. I haven’t heard from him.”
“Bristol.” More static. “You can’t keep doing this. Mom’s dead. Dad’s useless.”
“Which means I have to take care of them. You know that.”
“What I know is that you’re not their mother. You’ve given up most of your life for Mia and Ben, and if this keeps up, you’ll give up the rest, too.”
“Aren’t you the one who signed up to give your life for your country?” I let the cupboardsnickshut.
“Damn it, Bristol.”
“That’s what I thought.” Point to me. Sean can shut up about giving lives away.
“Do you need extra money to fix the roof?” There’s a rustling sound over the line. “I can send the difference. Or the whole amount. Whatever you need.”
Everywhere Will touched flushes hot. Embarrassment, definitely. Shame, maybe. And wanting more of him. I cough to cover it up. “Actually, I got an advance from work.”
“An advance?” Somehow, from the other side of the world, my brother isn’t buying this.
“Yeah.”
“So it’s working out then?” A beat of silence. “The temp agency?”
“Oh, yes. Yeah. It’s good.”
Good, but my boss is on my mind twenty-four hours a day. Good, but he needed something from me today, and I’m not sure I gave it to him. Good, but it’s also extremely fucked up.
“What’s wrong?” Sean asks. He always hears it when I hesitate or try to bullshit him. We’ve talked on the phone almost more than we’ve spoken in person.
