Unconventional

Almost immediately she switched, this time poking her cheeks in with both thumbs.

“Much better, fish-face.”

She giggled musically, and for a few seconds of pure happiness I forgot all about my mortar mixture. Or the wall. Or the guy who may or may not be stalking the farm fields, outside of Westgate Castle.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving soon?” I asked, checking the time. “Or is it still breakfast?”

“Breakfast’s over, but Antonio’s still eating cereal,” my sister said. “Right Antonio?”

She turned the phone, and there was my little brother. Shit, he was so big! Yet was so little when I’d left Colorado, and ended up here.

“Wait… Antonio, NO!”

My other sister’s voice came too late, as Antonio flung a spoonful of cereal right at the phone. Milk splattered the camera lens. He laughed merrily as Jenna wiped it up.

“Is that Julian?” I heard Ariana say. “Give me that!”

The screen spun crazily for half a minute, as a laughing Antonio sprinted wildly through the house with it. Eventually my other sister’s face came into view, looking perturbed and annoyed.

“Julian, is everything okay?” she asked.

God, every time I saw her she looked even bigger! How old was she now? Fourteen? Fifteen?

“Everything’s fine,” I reassured her. “Why?”

Ariana glanced over her shoulder for a moment, before continuing in a slightly lower tone. “Because this week’s check didn’t come.”

My heart sank. I rubbed at my eyes with one hand.

“Sorry honey. It’s gonna be a little delayed.”

“O—Okay,” Ariana replied. She forced a smile. “No biggie, just making sure you’re alright. And that everything over there is—”

“It’s fine,” I smiled back. “Mix-up with my paycheck, that’s all. I’ll do a transfer tomorrow, then wire you directly. Sound good?”

My sister’s face brightened. “Sounds great.”

“How’s mom?”

“The same.”

“Tell her…” My throat constricted a bit. “Tell I said…”

“Don’t worry,” Ariana nodded. “I will.”

We talked pleasantries for another minute or so, before my nine-year old brother’s need for attention got too much to bear. By the time we said our goodbyes, Ariana’s patience with him had worn thin. And I was busy calculating how much water I’d need to add, to salvage my latest mortar mixture.

“Bye Julian!” she said at last. “And… thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, beautiful,” I smiled.

I let her hang up first, as always, to assuage even the tiniest bit of my guilt. In truth, it had been way too long. I’d been slacking with my phone calls, and I knew it.

Enough talk. More work.

Scraping my trowel clean, I turned back in the direction of the ancient, thirty-foot high wall.

Eighteen