“Huh,” he says with a grunt. “Guess Ma wasn’t happy about that.”
“She hasn’t said much about it surprisingly since the reading. At first she was upset but I talked her down.”
His knee is bouncing, and I wonder if being home is too much for him. What I know that our family doesn’t is that Nate was discharged six months ago. He’s been in a mental health facility, until yesterday. Joe didn’t even know. That’s the real reason he couldn’t attend Joe’s memorial, he didn’t have clearance for his safety and ours. The first few months he was in the hospital he was violent and would have episodes where he thought he was still in combat, and well…it wasn’t pretty.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask as we pull up to our childhood home.
“Just ready to take my bike out. Dad said he had it serviced last week and took it down the block.”
Nate has always had a habit of running away when things get to be too much. I wasn’t shocked when he enlisted in the Army at the rate he was going. Smoking pot and stealing cars. Not exactly something you want to stick around and face punishment for. He’s no longer a troubled youth, beside me now is a hardened man.
The birdhouse mailbox greets us as I park. The boys built it, and I painted it for Mother’s Day, years ago. I can’t believe it’s still standing, we did such a crap job, but Ma loved it. She made dad put
it on a post first thing that morning.
My brother stretches his legs and makes to get out. Ma and Dad are already running out the door and down the steps of the white two-story colonial. Ma is crying of course, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheeks.
Even our hard ass father has a few wet streaks on his face as he pats Nate on the back gruffly. “Welcome home, son.” His brown eyes crinkle as he tries to hide his tears.
Only thing missing is Joe JR. It still doesn’t seem real that he’s gone.
I trail behind, following them inside.
Fake flower arrangements from the funeral are still on display, Ma won’t part with them. Cards of condolences also clutter the coffee table in the living room as though Joe just died. Dad sits in his recliner, Nate takes up the loveseat, leaving me to sit on the couch with Ma.
Pictures of our youth paper the walls. I don’t miss being dressed to match my twin. Ma always loved buying us matching Dick and Jane outfits.
“Is your bag in the car?” Ma asks.
“Nah, it’s at the apartment. I just came over to grab some things and pick up my bike. I’m eager to pick up where Joe left off with the business. I’m sure Nattie could use a break. I take it she’s been running things alone since everything.”
“Nonsense, you’re staying here tonight. I’m cooking your favorite. We have people coming.”
“Damn it, Ma!” Nate snaps. “I’m not in the mood for that.”
Her chin trembles with unshed tears. My brother shoves up from his chair, stomping through the house, and going out the back door.
“Let me go,” I tell her, raising from my chair before she can charge after him.
Out back, I find him on his knees at Joe JR’s grave. I hang back a minute giving him this moment to be alone and accept that our brother is truly gone.
Chapter 7
Nate
Gasping for air, I rush out the back door clutching my chest. Across the patio I see my brother’s grave in the family cemetery, solidifying he’s gone. I walk over and fall to my knees at his headstone. “Joe,” I grit out. “What were you thinking, brother? You always were stubborn. You aren’t here to take the focus off me and my fuck ups. I need you.”
Tracing my fingers over the edges of his name on the marble, I wish like hell I was lying here instead of him. Joe JR was the good kid, the one who was meant to have a good life, making our family proud. Not me, I’m the screw up.
He should be here now living out his life. If I could trade places with him I would.
I can’t help but wonder if he knew he was dying when it happened? I wonder what he was thinking about. Was he thinking about Audrey and the future they would never share? My lip twitches thinking about how nervous he had to have been when he asked Ma for our grandmother’s ring. He was always a momma’s boy, so eager to please and do the right and expected thing. We were nothing alike, Joe JR and me, but he was my best friend and I loved my brother dearly.
I don’t know how to be here in this house and not have him around. Seeing his grave makes the reality settle in in a way but at the same time I still feel as though he went on a trip or some shit.
“I saw your girl this morning. I can see why you fell for her. She’s a beauty. I don’t think she cares much for my ugly mug,” I joke, knowing he’d find it funny under different circumstances that seeing me had her fleeing the room.
Natalie places a hand on my shoulder and I grip it tight. She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t need to. We stay silent, the two of us, sharing in our grief for our brother.