The table suddenly gets quiet. I look betweenRyan and Sean. They have the exact same face, but entirely oppositepersonalities.
Sean downs his coffee and is about to standup when Ryan comes out with “How’s mom?”
Sean stops and looks over at Ryan. He makesdeliberate eye contact then says, “She misses you.”
Ryan just nods and looks away.
“Tell her I miss her too,” he says, withoutturning back to Sean.
It’s clear their mother is a sensitivesubject.I can’t imagine why.Sean fucks up and she begsRyan to pay the price? I’d have some hostility too.
Sean gets up, but instead of just turningaway from me, he leans down putting his cheek right next to mine.My heart seizes as he whispers in my ear, “Take care of my brother,he needs someone to love him right.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Irespond evenly, my eyes sliding over to meet his.
“As far as I know, you’re the only one whoever has.” He holds my stare for a split second.
I’m totally taken back. I don’t know thisperson at all, yet he has no problem being fearlessly direct withme. My attention follows Sean as he moves away from me. He claspsRyan’s hand and pauses. “Imiss you too,” he says firmly,and then walks off without another word.
Whoa. Itfeels like a mushroom cloudjust lifted.
“Clinic?” I ask Ryan.
“Yeah, methadone. He goes every day. It helpskeep him off the H.”
“Heroin?”
Ryan nods with a vacant expression.
“When was the last time you saw yourmother?”
“Not for a few months.”
“What’s a few?”
“Like, eight.”
“Oh, that’s quite a few.”
“I know,” he sulks.
I look at Ryan sympathetically.
I have a sneaking suspicion he has way morehealing to do then he’s letting on.
I stare at the screenof my iPhone. The words read: Culture midnite.
It’s when Ryan gets off work.
He and I have gotten into this routine. Ispend Sunday through Thursday afternoon in the city with him, andhang out at home on the weekends while he works. It’s been about amonth and things are getting pretty intense; intense physically,intense emotionally, intense psychologically.
I’m sipping a mimosa, waiting for Emily onthe terrace of the Ocean Club’s restaurant. It’s a warm Junemorning and there’s not a cloud in the sky. The ocean is perfectlycalm and the air smells sweet and salty.
It’s a flawless summer day.
Emily shoves her bag in the chair next to me,then plops down in another and huffs.
“What’s wrong with you?”