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I don’t know what to say to that. Except… “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”
He grunts. “I’m gonna get my life back on track.”
“You do that,” I whisper, not trusting my voice. “Can’t wait to see you again, man.”
“Soon,” he says. “Hey, are you at work? Should you be on the phone with all those cranes and forklifts and swinging weights?”
“Ooh, worried about me?” I tease him, grinning widely.
“Fuck you.” He snorts. “Yeah, I’m worried about you, douchecanoe. You’re my brother.”
I shut up, then, my throat closing up.
After a few moments of awkward silence, he says, “We’ll talk soon.”
I guess we will.
I’m still grinning as he disconnects, my eyes smarting and my heart thumping.
I will have Xavier back. No idea whether Mom will overdose again, whether she will live or die, but he made the choice she never did: he’s in rehab. He’s getting himself fixed, getting his life under control.
Again my thoughts turn to Ryan. I owe this to him. He did this for me.
And the familiar worry squeezes my chest, the certainty that something’s wrong with him, something he’s hiding from me and Brylee.
But I’m probably paranoid. I thought the same of Xavier, and look, he’s fine. Ryan doesn’t need us. He’ll be fine without us.
***
My back feels better, but working is still out of the question. Even walking to the bathroom is hard. My supervisor at the warehouse isn’t happy with my absence. He wants to know when I’m going back.
If I’m going back.
Yeah, well, the doctor said I shouldn’t lift weights anymore, so what am I gonna do now?
Find another job, sure. One that doesn’t involve heavy lifting. But what? Working at Fritters won’t give me enough money for the rent and bills, even if I got a full-time job there.
Which isn’t happening. In fact, the radio silence from that side tells me they’ve probably already found someone else, someone more reliable, to fill in the part-time position.
Brylee tells me everything will turn out okay.
“What do you think?” I ask Fluff who’s washing her small face on the armrest of the sofa. “Your opinion counts.”
“Meow,” she tells me calmly, bright eyes tracking my hand movement as I try to pet her. She licks my fingers.
She’s right.
I should calm down. I take a deep breath and let it go.
Xavier returned.
Brylee loves me.
My back is getting better.
Sometimes you have to trust that the rollercoaster will slow down, let you see the view from up high, feel the magic. That it will descend without a hitch back to the ground and let you off. I have people with me who care, who have my back.
Fluff jumps on my aching leg and starts massaging it with her soft paws.
