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Tomorrow, I’ll apologize by phone to clear my conscience and put Jazz and this incident behind me. I climb the steps to the red brick exterior with peeling paint around the windows, bearing the marks of time. Kai had promised to get to it last summer. Of course, he never did.
I unlock the door and the familiar creak of the floorboards hits like a wave of nostalgia. I visit my mother often, considering I only live six blocks away. Yet no matter how many times I come here, the memories—good and bad—still linger within these walls.
“Mom,” I call out, announcing my arrival.
“Leo!” She pops out from the kitchen where the scent of rosemary chicken fills the air, and wraps her arms around me in a tight squeeze as if I hadn’t been here a few days ago for Sunday dinner.
“Hey, Mom.” I hug her back. Nicole Foster is tall and strong, a former athlete who excelled in javelin. She was the bomb back in the day; even made it to the 1984 Olympics and placed in the top ten for Canada. But after tearing her shoulder muscle too many times, she retired at twenty-five and married her coach. Brant Foster was a skilled trainer, but a shit father and husband, who couldn’t keep it in his pants. After Kai was born, he ran off with a young athlete, and we never heard from the SOB again.
From the age of thirteen, I took on the role of man of the house, while Kai never seemed to grow up. He’s always had this take-the-easy-way-out, let’s-just-have-fun attitude, which has often landed him in trouble. But even that didn’t prepare me for his ultimate betrayal.
I’d only hired him at our mother’s urging. “He’s lost, Leo. He needs focus and a purpose.” Because my younger brother could sell sand in the desert, I assigned him to membership sales. Two months in and as usual, Kai managed to fuck it up.
“This is a nice surprise,” she says, kissing my cheek. “We don’t usually see you during the week. Are you hungry? I can warm you up a plate.”
“Maybe later, thanks. I need to talk to Kai.”
“Is everything all right?” She steps back, studying my face.
“It’s between Kai and me,” I say, knowing her tendency to intervene and try to smooth things over. “Just business.”
“Whatever he did, Leo, he means well. He doesn’t always think things through.”
And there it is, the inevitable excuses that let him off the hook.
“Mom, Kai’s not a kid anymore. He’s twenty-six years old; it’s about time he thinks things through and grows up.”
Before she can say more on the subject, I head up the stairs to the second floor, certain I’ll find Kai in his bedroom, engrossed in a video game. He won’t hear me over his headphones, so I don’t bother knocking.
My brother is sitting in a black gamer chair, feet up, with a bag of chips and beer at his side. His eyes are fixed on the massive computer screen as he cheers, “Take that, motherfuckers!” while launching missiles in a fiery blaze of red.
I feel my teeth clench and my jaw muscles tighten. I was supposed to be home, chilling with a beer and watching a basketball game. Instead I’ve been out there humiliating myself while he’s been here, enjoying fantasy land without a care in the real world.
I grab the back of the chair and spin him around.
“Heyyy…” His feet drop to the floor and his startled eyes meet mine. “What the hell, Leo?”
“Did you give Jazz Legend permission to put flyers up at my gym?”
“Uh…” I can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to come up with how to weasel his way out of this. “She asked, andI didn’t think it was a big deal. You said Fit Fabulous wasn’t competition. Not a threat at all, right? So, I thought it would be okay.”
“It’s Fab Fitness and whether I consider it competition or not, isn’t the fucking point.”
“Then what is?” He brushes chip crumbs off his T-shirt, slouching in his chair, looking up at me all innocent-eyed as if he hasn’t a clue.
“You lied to this woman. You told her you were the gym manager and had the authority to grant her permission. According to her, you suggested it, not the other way around.”
“You met her?” That has him sitting up tall and his eyes lighting up. “You met Jazz?”
“Are you for real? Is this how you’re going about picking up women now?”
“Can you blame me for wanting to impress her? She’s hot AF. Like full on sexy. The way she moves and talks, it’s like you just get caught up in her, you know?”
I do know, and I’m surprised by the twinge of jealousy that burns in my chest. They’re closer in age, they share the same carefree spirit, so why wouldn’t they be attracted to each other? And why the hell should I care?
“Did you tell her I wasn’t the gym manager?” he asks.
“I most certainly did.”
