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“Come on, Mama never let you eat in front of the TV, so don’t you think you can get away with it with me,” I said lightly.
Just then, Ryan turned up. I held back a groan and told him to sit at the table. I dished up the food that Luke had dropped off, realizing it was just enough for two people. I wanted to tell my brother to figure out something for himself to eat, but instead I made myself a salad and joined them at the table. Once they were eating, neither seemed to realize I was having a different meal. We had a few moments of blissful silence, and I started to actually relax. And then Ryan started talking.
“So, the board of directors thinks I’m a genius with the new walk-in clinic expansion we’re financing for the hospital. It’s going to break ground in a few weeks, and it’s going to have a great return on investment. All the factory people will use walk-in instead of going out to the hospital in Pendleton to see a doctor. It’ll get lots of traffic.”
“That’s great, son. I always knew you’d go far in business,” Dad said proudly.
I tried not to be jealous of the praise I knew I’d never get from our father.
“Yeah Ry, that’s great,” I chimed in because I really was proud of him for success.
“Yeah, I was pretty happy with how the board meeting went and thought it was going to be a good day. Then when I get back to my office, I get a call from my lawyer that Whitney wants me to pay her moving costs because I kept the house. Hell, I’m the one that paid for that house. If she’s living with that asshole cop, he can pay for her boxes and the U-Haul. I’m not covering the insurance on her Lexus, and I’m not giving her a dime. She spent enough of my money while I was working long hours to earn it.”
I winced a little as his rant went on. Dad started to pluck at the edge of the placemat and shake his head, growing agitated. I touched Ryan’s arm, “I think you’re upsetting him,” I whispered. He didn’t appear to hear me.
“She thinks she can get every dime I ever made, well, she’s got a surprise coming. I’ve got a tax shelter she knows nothing about,” Ryan said.
“Is that legal?” I said.
My dad was mumbling.
“What’s up, Dad?” I said.
“What is Ryan going to do if that woman takes all his money?” he asked, clearly agitated.
“Ryan is fine. Right, Ry? He just doesn’t want to give Whitney any more than he has to. But he makes a ton of money at the bank, and has put away, too. So we don’t need to worry about him starving. Right, Ryan?” I asked with a pointed look.
“I don’t know, she may bleed me dry,” he said.
“Ryan!” I hissed. “You’re worrying him over nothing. Come to the other room. I’ll bring you some tea and your medicine,” I said, ushering my dad to his recliner.
He kept asking me if Ryan was okay. I smiled and said he was fine. As soon as Dad was settled, I wheeled on Ryan in the kitchen. “Do you think you could tone it down around Dad? He’s having a hard time recovering from the heart attack, and you upsetting him isn’t healthy for him.”
“What? All I was doing was making conversation,” he said.
“No, you were complaining as usual,” I told him.
“Oh, I’m sorry if my life imploding isn’t a big deal to you,” he nearly whined.
I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Ryan, quit being such a baby. I’m not saying what you’re going through isn’t rough, all I’m saying is don’t complain so much in front of Dad,” I said. “He doesn’t need the extra stress.”
“Fine, then I’ll just go so I don’t cause anyone extra stress,” he said, storming out.
I blew out a breath and tried to roll the tension from my shoulders. I was frustrated almost beyond reason. My brother was acting like a complete self-absorbed asshole, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I knew his actions were borne of the pain he was in at the failure of his marriage, but I’d had about enough of his childish behavior. I didn’t need it on top of everything else. I needed my big brother back. Pre-Whitney, pre-success, pre-anger management issues Ryan. That’s who I needed.
I cleaned up the dishes, wiped the table, and put in some laundry. Then I went and sat down with Dad in front of some documentary that seemed to be about footage of people getting on an aircraft carrier, possibly in the Pacific. I was asleep within half an hour. When I woke up sometime later, Dad was sleeping in his chair. I turned off the TV, woke him to give him his bedtime medicines, and sent him to brush his teeth and turn in. Then I made a chart to put on the fridge so I could keep track of his dosages. I checked the calendar and planned to drive him to therapy myself in the morning.
