I was tense the entire ride out. I didn’t bring clothes to change into, so I was wearing jeans, a button-up, and a blazer, which I did take off, before pushing my sleeves up to my elbows.
The house was small—four small rooms, so Nolan, who was closest to my age, always had to share with me. He never let me forget he would have had his own space if I hadn’t been around.
The front door was open, the screen door in place, so I rapped on it before pulling it open. Mom, Nolan, and Jonathan were already there, but Brad must have been running late.
“Hey, what’s up?” I said as I went in.
Jonathan gave a mock whistle. “Did you dress up for us?” he asked teasingly—or at least, I was sure that’s how he saw it, regardless of how it felt to me. He had a dark-blue Carson’s Construction T-shirt on. Nolan did too.
“You jealous because I always look so good?” I countered. Jonathan was the oldest, and for some reason was always the biggest dick.
He flipped me off.
“Jonathan. Don’t do that.” Mom swatted at his hand.
“Mama’s boy,” he mouthed at me when she came over to hug me, and this time, I gave him the finger behind her back.
In a lot of ways, how we went back and forth with each other could be seen as typical brother stuff, playful family drama, and maybe it was to them, but not to me. I was always the one singled out. I was always the brother they had no interest in unless it was to pick on.
“It smells good in here,” I said, sitting on the couch.
“I’m making meatloaf.” Mom smiled, just as Brad came in.
“Sorry I’m late. After work I stopped to see Chloe on her break.”
Brad was married and had his first kid on the way. Nolan had a serious girlfriend. They’d been together four years but hadn’t tied the knot yet. Jonathan was single and was mostly always single like me.
“She has to work?” I asked.
“Yeah, twerp.” Brad ruffled my hair, and I jerked my head back.
“Dude, stop.”
“Aw, you still look pretty, baby brother. Don’t cry,” Brad replied, trying to fuck with my hair again, and I slapped his hand away.
“Jesus, what are you, five?”
“Boys, stop. It’s your daddy’s birthday. It’s supposed to be a good day.” The air was immediately sucked out of the room after Mom’s reminder of the reason why we were all getting together. The mood turned somber, my stomach getting this uncomfortable twisting sensation.
“Yes, ma’am,” we all replied. If there was one thing we had in common, it was how much we loved and tried to protect our mom. It was why I was trying to save money for her. I hadn’t realized they’d taken second and third mortgages out on the house and that Dad hadn’t had life insurance.
We ate dinner together at the table like we always did. My brothers talked about work and new contracts Jonathan had landed and how busy they all were. I listened but didn’t have much to add.
“I think we picked a name for the baby,” Brad said when we were almost done eating.
Mom nearly glowed. “Ooh! What is it?”
“Grace. We’re gonna call her Gracie.”
My eyes snapped to Brad. “You’re having a little girl?”
Mom gave him a look that said he was in trouble. “You didn’t tell your brother?” It was clear I was the only one not in the loop.
“It’s not my fault he’s never around! I told the others at work.” You know, because there wasn’t this invention called a phone. Brad did at least look like he felt bad. “Sorry, kid.” Then he scooped a bite of meatloaf into his mouth and went on about his business. I hated when he called me that. He was six years older than me, not twenty.
Then Mom talked about this knitting club she was in, and my brothers mentioned how they went camping the weekend before.
“It was last-minute, twerp,” Nolan said. “We figured you’d have plans.”
But they hadn’t bothered to ask.
“Even if he didn’t have plans, he wouldn’t want to go with us. Might get dirty,” Jonathan added.
“Fuck you,” jumped out of my mouth.
“Boys!” Mom snapped, and we shut our mouths and pretended everything was fine.
After we finished eating, Mom got a phone call she had to take, and I waited for her in the kitchen. Like always, my brothers ended up congregating together and leaving me out. I leaned against the counter as I heard them in the backyard, chatting while Nolan smoked. I didn’t want to smell like his cigarettes anyway.
“I can’t believe Dad won’t get to meet Gracie,” Brad’s voice drifted through the window.
“God, I miss him,” Nolan added.
“Yeah, me too,” Jonathan grunted. He was always so damn grumpy. He didn’t share his feelings often, so I was surprised he’d said even that.