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Lexie
“We haveice cream at our place. Homemade strawberry. Want to come?”
Was Eric determined to torture me?
No. My brother didn’t have a malicious bone in his body.
He’d made a new friend in Lincoln. More like he’d adopted Lincoln as his friend. I wasn’t so sure the feeling was reciprocated.
Discreetly, I shook my head behind my brother’s back. Lincoln would say no anyway, but I wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t welcome.
Even if I’d wanted his company—which I definitely didn’t—he couldn’t come over. The apartment was a disaster. I hadn’t had time to do laundry in over a week and the sink was overflowing with dishes.
We kept our outside appearance impeccable. Inside the walls of our home . . . I did the best I could. We did the best we could.
Eric may have Down syndrome, but he was a huge help. Much more so than a burden. I couldn’t imagine my life without him. He brought joy and sunshine and kept things interesting.
Like inviting virtual strangers to our home on a whim.
The beautiful and frightening thing about Eric was that he didn’t have that exterior wall most people did. The one to protect us and make us wary of others. He treated everyone exactly the same.
Though he seemed to be taking to a certain someone I wanted to stay far away from.
“I’ve never had strawberry ice cream.”
The admission was quiet, so low I almost missed it.
Our lives hadn’t been glamorous, nothing like his. The most luxurious thing we had was the van, and it was by no means fancy.
Ice cream was simple. Something everyone could relate to.
Maybe that was why he’d never had strawberry.
The incredulousness on Eric’s face matched the expression I tried to veil. “You’ve never had strawberry ice cream?” he repeated as if that were impossible.
“No.”
I wanted an explanation. Like he was lactose intolerant or hated strawberries or didn’t eat dairy.
No. You don’t need an explanation. He hasn’t had strawberry ice cream. End of story, Lexie.
“But you’ve had ice cream, right?” I snapped my mouth closed, embarrassed the question had escaped.
“Yes.”
That was good. I guessed. Why do I care?
“Then you have to come over. Ours is the best strawberry ice cream in the universe.” My lips tugged upward at the big heart my brother had.
“Okay.”
What? No. We could bring him some or . . . shouldn’t Beau be the one to experience that with him? Not us.
“I notice I wasn’t invited.” Beau slung an arm around Eric good-naturedly.
“You know you can come,” he said, as if she were part of our family.
She might’ve been gone for a long time, but she was always welcome without invitation to our home.
