“No. Now.”
“Shane, I’m an employee of this company—“
“For now.”
I didn’t like that. This was the second time he’d mentioned my employment being temporary. “Are you planning on having me fired?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” His hands skimmed down my arms, stopping just above the elbows. “You’re getting too defensive, Bristol. I love you. I want you to be happy. If that means working a job here, then you can continue to work. But I thought you might like to take a break. We could go away for a month or two, travel. Where would you like to go? Tell me. We can go anywhere...well, except San Marino, of course.”
“I don’t know. For now, I’d like to go to work.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll call your manager and tell her you were in a meeting with me. She won’t hold it against you.”
That didn’t ease my worries. Not at all.
Chapter 8
I saw him the minute I pulled up to my condo. In my car. My repaired car. It was amazing how quickly almost six hundred dollars worth of repairs could be finished. At that kind of hourly rate, I was thinking I needed to consider a career change.
Speaking of change, my visitor was my brother, Branden. And he didn’t look like he had the last time I’d seen him. He looked clean. He looked healthy. He was wearing decent clothes.
Had he finally turned his life around?
He watched me get out of my car. When I came toward him he smiled. His broken tooth, the front one--fractured in a fight when he was drunk--wasn’t broken anymore.
“Branden. What a surprise. You look great.”
“Thanks. So do you.” He shouldered the wall as I unlocked my door.
I motioned him in. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve been sober for almost a year,” he said, sounding proud. He followed me inside.
A year? In the past, a week would have been something to celebrate. “That’s great! A year. Wow!”
“I feel really great, better than I have ever felt.”
“I’m so glad.” I kicked off my shoes and headed to my bedroom to change. I lifted an index finger, and he nodded. In my room, I closed my purse in a drawer (an old habit from his hardcore drinking days) and changed into a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. When I came out, I found him standing in the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. I was just checking out your place. It looks great. Weren’t the walls white before?”
“They were. But I didn’t think you’d noticed.” I brushed past him, grabbed a frozen dinner out of the freezer and unwrapped it. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”
“No thanks. I just had something on the way over.”
“Where are you living?” I asked as I ripped open the packaging for my gourmet meal. Mushroom tortellini. Yum. I hoped.
“I’ve been at a long term alcohol treatment center up in Muskegon.”
“I’m so happy to see you looking so well.” After sticking the little plastic tray of frozen noodles in the microwave, I opened the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of diet cola and offered it to my brother.
He declined. “No thanks.” He motioned toward the sink. “But I’d be grateful for a glass of water.”
“Sure.” I grabbed a glass, filled it with ice and ran the tap for a few seconds to give it a chance to cool down. Then I filled it and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He sat at my breakfast counter and sipped. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, too.” I poured myself a glass of cola and sipped.
He set the glass down with a light tap. “We do a lot of thinking in counseling. Thinking about what we’ve done, who we’ve hurt. I hurt you. A lot.”
“It’s all in the past, Branden.”
“I’m sorry.” Looking regretful, my brother shook his head. “I can’t offer any excuses. There are none for what I did.”
“It’s in the past.” Talking to this man today, this healthy, sound-minded man, was so strange and thrilling. There’d been so many times when I thought it wouldn’t ever be possible for him to get sober, let alone stay sober. He’d stolen from me, physically assaulted me, threatened me. All while intoxicated. And no matter what program he’d been on, he’d failed to stay clean for more than a few weeks.
But now…had it really been a year since he’d had a drink? Or was he lying? I did another head-to-toe. No, he couldn’t be lying.
“I’ve forgiven you,” I added, hoping I would never see him drunk again.
He took another swallow of the water and smiled. For the first time in ages, I saw an attractive, intelligent man when I looked at him. Not a walking, barely functioning, pathetic disaster. “You’re a bigger person than me. Thanks.”
The buzzer on the microwave rang, and I pulled out the warm plastic tray and stirred the noodles and sauce. It smelled pretty good. I hoped it tasted good too. With my finances being in ruins lately, I’d cut way back on my food budget, sticking with super cheap meals. This frozen dinner was a luxury, one I really shouldn’t have splurged on. “What brought you to this side of town?”
“A job interview.”
Carrying my expensive tray of frozen noodles, I took a seat next to him at the breakfast bar. “Great! What kind of job is it?”
“The company is Professional Delivery. I’ll be working in the warehouse, sorting freight.”
“Sounds really great.” I caught the look in my brother’s eye as I stirred my meal. “Are you sure you aren’t hungry?”
“Positive. Though that looks delicious.” He stood, his mostly full glass in his hand. “Thanks for the water.”
Was he leaving? Already? He hadn’t asked me for any money. He hadn’t asked me for any favors. I couldn’t remember the last time we had just talked. “You’re welcome.”
“I should get going. They lock the house after eight, and it’s a long drive back home. I don’t want to get kicked out.”
“I’m glad you stopped by.” I followed him to the door. “Let me know if you get the job.”
“I will.” His expression brightened. “I just wanted you to see me like this for once. I always wanted you to be proud of me. Always. Even when we were kids.”