“Sure, Kid. That’s all Bears eat,” I said, taking one last look at Otter, splayed out on the floor. I trembled.
I carried Ty into the kitc
hen and set him down at the table. I walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled down the box of cereal and grabbed a bowl from the dishwasher. I set them in front of him, and he immediately opened the box, pouring the cereal into the bowl. I took the milk from the fridge and set it next to him. As soon as he was old enough to, the Kid never allowed anyone to make his cereal for him. He always wanted to do it himself. I sat in the chair beside him, my mind racing from everything.
“Aren’t you gonna have some, Bear?” he asked, smacking his lips over the spoon.
I leaned over and ruffled his hair. “I was just going to munch off of yours, if that’s okay.”
He looked down at the bowl then back up at me. “Okay,” he said slowly. “But you only get little bites. Not big ones.” He held the spoon in one hand and picked up two marshmallows and put them on the spoon. They were the green clovers. He knew those were my favorite. He held the spoon toward my mouth, and I chomped them off, making a noise that made him giggle.
“Hey, Bear!” the Kid said.
“Hey, yourself!” I said back.
“It’s your birthday!”
“It sure is.”
“I made you something! Well, Anna helped, but I made most of it. Can I go get it?”
“Sure, Kid. Just make sure you be quiet, okay?”
He nodded and took another bite and then jumped down from his chair, running out of the room. His socks made little scuffing noises on the tile.
I waited until he was gone then sunk back into my chair. My head was hurting. My neck was sore, apparently after spending the last few hours nuzzled into Otter’s neck. I groaned out loud, thanking God only Ty had found us like that. What would Creed have thought, seeing me sprawled against his brother? What about Anna? What the fuck was I thinking?
Whatever. I was tired and just rolled over onto his arm in my sleep. It’s no big deal. Who cares, anyway? So what if Creed had seen us? What, he would have called us a bunch of fags? It’s not like we were doing anything. Otter’s not like that. I’m not like that. It was an accident.
Before I could think about it anymore (not that I wanted to), the Kid came running back into the room, holding a big piece of construction paper. He handed it to me then crawled back into his chair and began to eat his cereal again. I looked down at the paper he had given me. It was folded in half and on the outside it said TO BEAR FROM YOUR BROTHER. I laughed quietly and opened it. Inside there was a drawing underneath more words that spelled out HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAR and I LOVE YOU. The drawing showed five stick figures standing on what appeared to be the beach. I could tell which one was Ty because he had drawn himself smaller than the others. Anna was drawn having long black hair. There were three others.
“That one’s you,” he said, pointing to the one standing next to the version of himself. “And that’s Uncle Creed standing by Anna, and that’s Otter standing on the other side of you.” He had drawn us all holding hands. I was holding the Kid’s hand and Otter’s. Oh for the love of God, it’s just a picture!
“Thanks, Kid. I think you’re going to be a famous artist someday.”
“Maybe. Or a detective. I haven’t decided yet. Can I have some more Lucky Charms?”
“Yeah.” I was still staring down at the picture, realizing that he hadn’t drawn Mom into the picture. I put it down on the table. “Ty,” I said, suddenly unsure of what to say next. I was saved when Creed walked into the room, yawning.
“Uncle Creed!” Ty yelped and jumped from the chair. Creed caught him and swung him in circles.
“Hey, Kid! What’s the word?”
“Did you know it’s Bear’s birthday?”
He stopped spinning Ty and looked over at me. “Sure did, Kid. Your big bro’s getting to be an old man now.” I could see the concern in his eyes as he realized that I hadn’t said anything to Ty yet.
Ty didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss. “Yeah, he’s an old Bear now. We’ll have to put him in a home. Are we going to have cake for Bear today?”
“Cake?” Creed said, setting him back on his chair. “I bet we could swing that. What kind of cake do you think Bear wants?”
Ty made a face and grumbled, “Probably something gross like coconut. I hate coconut.”
“I’ll tell you what: if Bear wants coconut cake, I’ll make sure we get you a cake of your own.”
Ty looked up at him suspiciously. “But it’s not my birthday.”
“That’s okay. Hey, Kid. Do you mind if I steal your brother for a minute? I have to talk to him about some grown-up stuff.”