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Yep, it was that sad.
I needed to go up to the attic for the crib.
It was rare for me to go up there, aside from dragging down Christmas decorations, because it was filled with forgotten things and was a time capsule of memories Trace, Sutton, and I weren’t ready to face or sort through. But that was where the crib was.
“Panda?” I made some noises, and at last, Panda emerged one paw at a time from under an old oak bureau that had held four generations of Marshall family correspondence. He padded over to me, allowed me to pet him, and then, hotfooted it into the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“Miaow,” Panda confirmed.
“Hmm, how are you today?” I asked him, and his sad sorry look was heartbreaking, or at least it ,would’ve been if I didn’t know what a scrounging monkey he was.
“Miaow.” He’d moved on to mewling with attitude to inform me he was dying from hunger.
I gave him a couple of treats, in his special bowl, and he delicately picked them out one by one before scattering them across the kitchen floor and pouncing on them before crunching them with relish. I was sure there was method to his madness, and I’d once tried putting them on the mat next to the bowl, y’know, cutting out the middleman. Panda sulked as only a cat could do, and I never did it that way again, just wiped and mopped and cleared up any mess he made.
Still, routine was good, however weird it was, and I let him out when he was finished.
With that done, I considered going up and finding the crib.
My phone vibrated when I was halfway up the stairs, and I stopped to answer the face call when I saw it—Sutton, way too close to the screen and cross-eyed. It scared the shit out of me as he chuckled.
“Bro!” he shouted.
I moved the cell away so it wasn’t right in my face. “Hey, Sutt, what’s wrong?”
Sutton faked shock that I’d even ask him that. “Does something have to be wrong for a brother to call?”
“You forget I can see right through you.”
“Money’s a bit tight, and I don’t get paid until the weekend. I wouldn’t call, but can I borrow fifty?”
“You can always call.”I wish you would call more.It used to be that I’d get messages about homework and deadlines and stupid jokes, but since he’d gone to ,college he’d stopped sending them as much, same as how, all of a sudden, Trace had stopped sending me things too. “And yeah, I’ll send it over.”
“Thanks, I owe you one.”
“You owe me fifty,” I reminded him with a raised eyebrow, and he ducked his head.
He chuckled. “Well, don’t tell Trace, but you’re my favorite brother.”
We laughed, his grin was infectious, and he looked so much like Mom my heart hurt, so I changed the subject. “How’re lectures?”
“Remind me why we need math?” he whined.
“Do you really want me to explain how math helps in football again?” I said.
He grimaced at me. “No. It’s going okay, aside from math, and there’s so much coursework!”
“It’s college, Sutt; studying is what you do.”
“And bad news on the Thanksgiving front,” he added. “It’s going to be tight getting home.”
My heart sank. “I understand.” I really did get it, he was way up in Illinois, and that was some journey back to San Diego just for a few days.
“I’ll try though.”
“Okay.”
“But you’ll be with Jax, right?”
