Before I Die

“Everything okay?” I ask, taking a sip of my root beer. It’s my favorite soft drink and Stephen always keeps them on hand for when I come over.

The corners of his lips hesitantly turn up into a fake smile, telling me he’s about to lie to me. I know the look because I’ve watched him give it every time he’s lied to our parents over the years. He nods, now chewing a mouthful of chicken fried rice.

“You sure?” I push him.

Once he swallows his food, he says, “Yes, Nevaeh, I’m fine.”

Nevaeh.

He never calls me by my name. He usually calls me Brat when he’s annoyed with me, knowing it drives me nuts, or Sis when he’s happy with me, but never Nevaeh. Something is definitely going on…

Before I can push the subject, though, he launches into what’s been going on with him at work. He’s an Atlantic City police officer, and while his job is exhausting, he’s always made sure to find time for me. That is until recently.

We move from the topic of his job to mine, and I tell him about some of the funny things my students have done. He laughs in all the right places, but behind his fake smile, I can see something is seriously wrong.

He asks me how my birthday was and I tell him about me and Blaire going dancing, about the martini I tried and enjoyed—leaving out the part where I got a birthday kiss from Ethan. His expression shows brotherly love and protectiveness as he reminds me to never drink and drive. I’m lucky to have an older brother like Stephen. He’s protective and kind, and he’s one of my best friends.

I continue to make conversation, but I can’t even tell you what either of us are talking about. My mind is now stuck on Stephen and what he’s hiding from me. For him to act like this, it must be something big.

He sets his empty container down, while I still have half of mine left, and reaches for the remote, pausing the show. “I love you. You know that, right?”

His serious tone makes me tense up. “Yes, I know that, and I love you too.”

“I’ll never forget how you stood by my side no matter how much I fucked up. When I chose to move out, you didn’t disown me like our mom did. You’re a good fucking woman and an even better sister.”

“Where is this coming from?” I ask, suddenly nervous. Stephen has never been one to show emotion or talk about how he feels, no matter how much I’ve tried.

“It just needed to be said, Nevaeh.” And there it is. My name. Again.

Stephen pulls me into a hug and then backs away, looking me dead in my eyes. “I know you love Mom, but promise me something, okay?”

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll stop living your life for her and start living it to the fullest. You can still believe in God and enjoy your life. Mom is far from perfect, and she’s only sheltering you to prevent you from enjoying your life because she’s afraid you’ll make the same mistakes she made. There’s a lot you don’t know. I know you give in to her because I didn’t, but I don’t want you doing that anymore. Promise me you’ll try.”

My head is spinning. “What do you mean, there’s a lot I don’t know?”

“It’s not my place to say.”

“No!” I shake my head, starting to freak out. “Tell me. You can’t say something like that and not tell me.”

Stephen sighs, and for a brief moment doesn’t say anything. Then, he finally speaks and the words that come out next are shocking enough to shake my entire world. “I’m not Dad’s biological son. When mom got pregnant with me, it was a one-night stand, and she didn’t know who the guy was.”

I gasp in shock. “Oh my God,” I whisper, bringing my hands up to my mouth. “Does Dad know?”

“I don’t think so. I found a diary in the things Grandma dropped off before Mom could throw it all away. One of her last entries was that she was pregnant and didn’t know who the father was, and that she was being sent away, so she wouldn’t disgrace her family name. She must’ve met Dad and made it look like I was his son.”

“Wow,” I breathe. “And all these years she’s been preaching abstinence like she’s perfect. I can’t believe she would do that to Dad and you.” I can’t hide the disappointment and disgust I feel toward my mom. How dare she!

“We both know Mom would never tell us anything she’s done that doesn’t make her look perfect. But now you know she’s not, and every time she’s judging you, you now know she has no right.”

I can’t believe all these years she would lie. She and my dad were married young, and Stephen was born shortly after. They told us he was conceived during their honeymoon after they were married. Did Mom lie to Dad? Somehow change her due date? None of this makes any sense.