“Yeah,” I mumbled. I got up and walked out of the office. The last thing I felt like doing was discussing my brother with Edie.
Lizbet was in the hallway, and when she saw my face, she came forward, took my arm, and led me into our bedroom. “You look bad. How’d it go?”
I sank to my bed.
“What did your dad say?” Lizbet waited a moment then continued. “Why’d you tell Edie? We had it planned out.”
Lizbet fussed with the fat roll of hair on the top of her head. She pulled three clips out, and it fell in one huge graceful curl to her waist.
“Why do you twirl your hair up in such a stupid roll every single day?”
She backed away with a hurt expression in her eyes. She shrugged and walked to the dresser and fidgeted with her stack of books. I could’ve bitten my tongue. Why was I sniping at her? She was being all nice and concerned, and I was being a jerk.
I backtracked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”
She turned toward me, and her shoulders made bony points through her thin smock. “Why do you hate my hair?”
“I don’t hate it. I’m sorry. And I told Edie because I didn’t want you to have to lie.”
Lizbet paused with her hand in mid-air. Her forehead crinkled in confusion. “You didn’t want me to lie?” she asked, her voice soft. I’d never noticed how gentle her voice sounded when she spoke, like a lullaby caressing the air. She walked to my bed and sat down on the end where I’d thrown my slippers. She picked them up and placed them side by side on the bedspread.
“Farah, thank you.”
Three words — but I felt the emotion behind them.
“That was a big risk. Is he still coming tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Still coming. And telling Edie wasn’t such a big deal.”
She handed me my slippers. “Your feet must be frozen.”
I took them and slipped them onto my feet.
“And it was too a big deal. Thanks.”
I smiled and took a slow breath. “So can I cut your hair now?”
Lizbet grabbed at her hair, gathering it in her fist. “No way. You’re the risk-taker, not me.”
We both laughed.
I sighed. “I think I’ll go to bed now. I’m tired of this day.”
“I’m tired of it, too.” Lizbet walked to her bed and pulled down the covers. “Ned’s coming tomorrow. Our brothers can meet each other.”
“I’m having a hard time believing Sam will show up. It’s unreal.”
“He’ll show up. I’m sure of it.” She snapped off the lamp, leaving the room in darkness.
Chapter Thirteen
School the next day passed in a blur. I was so preoccupied I couldn’t even listen to the teachers, let alone do any work. Nobody seemed to care. Another confirmation we girls from the Home were second-class citizens with both the students and the teachers. We could pretty much do nothing all day and not get in trouble.
Would I even recognize Sam? Would he recognize me? What would we have to talk about? Did he want to see me, or was he coming out of guilt?
By the time I got on the bus, I had a headache big enough for the whole world. Lizbet was already in a seat, and she waved me over. I sat.
“You okay?” she asked.
“My head is pounding, and my stomach is pure jitters. Plus, I drank way too much and need to use the bathroom.”
“Nerves,” she said and patted my leg. “You’ll feel better once you see your brother.”
She said it with such conviction, I decided to believe her. When the bus reached our drive, my bladder was talking to me. I grabbed my backpack and flew down the bus steps and up to the house. The other girls straggled behind, but I didn’t care. I threw open the door and made a bee-line for the toilet.
As I passed the living room, Edie started toward me. “Farah…”
“Give me a sec, I’ve gotta go now,” I cried barreling through to the bathroom.
When I was finished, I ran my hands under the water and headed back out to the living room. Edie met me in the hallway and grabbed my hands, holding them close.
“He’s here, Farah, in the den.”
I froze and gulped in air. “Already?”
“Yes, he’s been here for two hours.” Her face was animated, and her eyes shone. “He’s waiting for you.”
I pulled my hands free and put them to my head. “I’m not fixed up yet. I have to change clothes, comb my hair…”
“Farah?”
I looked over Edie’s shoulder to see a tall, skinny guy with reddish-blond hair staring at me. I stepped away from Edie, and the whole world fell away.
“Sammy?”
Our eyes locked, and we moved toward each other as if pulled by some force beyond our control. When he was inches from me, I saw tears trembling in his eyes.
“Farah.” His voice caught in his throat, and my name came out like a cry.
I held out my arms, and he crushed me to his chest. I cried, and he cried, and knowing Edie, she was probably crying too.
Sam rocked me back and forth, and I tried to crush myself even tighter into him. I’d never let go of him again, never in a million years. He was so thin, and I was aware of my bulging stomach pressing into his flat one. Neither of us let go; we held on as if we were both ready to collapse. Edie blew her nose and bustled around us.
“Come on, you two. Go into the den. I’ll get you some tea.”
Sam pulled me against his side, and we walked together to the den. There was no one there. Edie had no doubt chased everyone out to give us privacy. We sat together on the couch, our legs pressed together as if we wouldn’t let anything come between us again.
I looked into the pale blueness of Sam’s eyes, and my own green eyes reflected back at me. My heart was beating wildly, and my breathing was shallow. I fought back the black spots that hovered around the edges of my vision. I couldn’t waste one minute with Sam fainting. I grabbed his arm and squeezed, and the dizziness faded.
“Farah, you’re pregnant.” His voice caught on the words. “What happened?”
My hands went over my protruding stomach like a shield. “I was stupid, that’s what happened.”
What was I saying? My breath froze in my throat. I wasn’t stupid, I was in love with Pete, and he promised to take care of me. How could that be stupid? But the words had jolted from my mouth without thought. I bit my lips and gawked at Sam, wondering if he had some power over me to make me say dumb things.
“Did he hurt you?” The concern on Sam’s face carved wrinkles around his mouth. “Are you okay?”
I stared at Sam, my brother Sam, who had deserted me like Pete was doing now. I watched the supposed love in his expression, the caring in his tone, the way he gazed at me like he was drinking me in, and something snapped hard inside of me. How could I trust him? I’d trusted Pete, and look where it had gotten me.
I jumped off the couch, and a shaking took over me down to my feet. “What do you care? You left me too! Don’t go all brotherly on me!” The words flew from my mouth like poison arrows. Sam’s face registered shock and then pain rose up like a deep flush. His lips went slack, and his skinny shoulders slumped, but his eyes never left mine.
“I haven’t seen you for years! I’ve searched for you always. Did you ever, ever, ever try to contact me? You knew where I was! But, no, never did you try to see me or call me or write to me. Never!” The words rocked me to my core. I shuddered so hard, even my teeth rattled.
Edie came dashing into the den, but Sam put up his hand to stop her. “Let her go. She has to get it out.” His voice was firm, directive.
“I can’t have you upsetting her. It’s not good for her or the baby,” Edie said, but she didn’t move any closer. Her gaze darted back and forth between Sam and me, and indecision was etched around her eyes.
I stood there, panting. I tried to stay quiet — I wanted to stay quiet, but the words kept coming. “Yeah, let me get it out! I’ll talk even though you never had the decency
to say one word to me in the last eight years! Not one stupid word!”
Sam rose from the couch and took a step closer. I jerked back and nearly spat at him. “Stay away from me! Stay away!”
“I did write. I wrote you all the first year, but you never answered.” His face was intent, staring, as he inched closer.
“Liar! You didn’t write. I got nothing!”
“Farah, I did. I swear I did.”
I gulped in air and swiped at the tears running down my face. “Liar,” I said again, but the word fizzled and fell to the rug.
“I swear I wrote. I stopped because I got scared.”
I crinkled my face. “Scared? Of what?”
“Scared Mother would take it out on you.”
I blinked the tears away and stared at him. Mother, of course. It all clicked into place. He was telling the truth.
I fell into him and sobbed. His arms went around me, and with a gentle tug, he pulled me down to the couch. I lay my head on his shoulder while the tears flowed. Edie stepped back until she faded out of the room.
“I’m sorry.” I hiccupped. “I’m sorry.”
He patted my hair. “No reason to be. You were a little kid. How could you know?”
I shifted and concentrated on taking slow breaths. His heart beat hard beneath his shirt. I closed my eyes and listened to its steady rhythm, offering me comfort and warmth.
“Are you mad at me?” I mumbled into his shoulder.
“Never.”
We stayed silent for a moment, and then I sat up and faced him. “What happened to your letters?”
“I think we can guess.”
“Mother.”
He nodded. “Probably. She was furious with me. She hated me and never wanted to hear from me, so I guess she decided you shouldn’t hear from me either.”
“Maybe she thought being gay was contagious.”
We looked at each other and both gave a half-hearted laugh at the same time.
“It’s like the flu, you know,” Sam said with another sad laugh.
“I’ve missed you all these years, Sam. Where’d you go? Were you okay?”
“It’d take me a whole week to tell you what happened after I left. At least a week, maybe a month. I’m in Chicago, I got my GED, and I’m working at a small tech start-up. I’m doing okay, not rich or anything, but okay.”
I pushed my hair back from my face and tucked it behind my ears. “Do you live alone?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do. I haven’t always, but I do now.”
“Any room for visitors?”
“Why? You wanting to come visit your big brother?” he asked, his voice teasing. He caressed my cheek with his warm fingers and then squeezed my shoulder.
I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Did I dare tell him what I wanted? He was gazing at me with such loving attention, I decided to take the chance.
“Can I bring the baby and come live with you?” I saw his shocked face and hurried on. “If I can’t get Pete to take us in.”
Sam licked his lips and inhaled deeply. “Is this Pete the father?”
I nodded.
“Is he involved at all?”
“We’re going through kind of a thing right now, but he’ll come around. He’s a good guy, I promise. I haven’t had much chance to talk with him.” I looked around the room. “It’s a prison here.”
Sam narrowed his eyes, and his lower lip stuck out a bit. “Edie seems nice enough.”
“She is nice, but I can’t use the phone when I want to, or go where I want to, or see Pete when I want to.”
“Does he come here?”
I shook my head and my determination fired up. “Not yet, but he will. You’ll see.”
Sam grabbed my arm. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Farah. If you like him, I’m sure he’s fine. Although, how he could leave you in a mess like this…”
“I’m not a mess,” I snapped. He flinched, and I rushed on. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“You weren’t rude. My apartment only has one bedroom. The couch pulls down into a crummy bed with a huge dip running down the middle of it, but it can be slept on. It’s Chicago, Farah, so I think I have about four hundred square feet is all.” His eyes were solemn, but he smiled. “If you need a place, it’s yours.”
Tears stung my eyes, and I tried to blink them away. “Thank you, Sammy. I won’t need to, though. I only asked in case.”
“So you’re keeping the baby.”
“It’s Pete’s and mine. I have to keep it.”
“What do you mean, have to?”
I rubbed my stomach. “This little guy is my ticket out.” I glanced up quickly and went on. “I know that sounds terrible, and I don’t mean it that way. But this baby will put Pete and me back together and give me a home. I know I’m only sixteen, but I’m almost seventeen, and I have it all planned out.”
Sam was silent, but the sadness in his eyes deepened.
“Don’t look at me like that. Everything’s okay. I have some time to get the bugs worked out.” I put on a smile and attempted a laugh.
“Even as a little squirt you had everything all planned out. I remember when you re-organized all my CD’s.” He whistled. “Took me days to figure out where they all were, but you were so proud, standing there with your chest sticking out and this happy grin on your face.”
“I remember…” I hadn’t thought of those days for years, but now the memory swept over me with tenderness. I tugged on Sam’s sleeve. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me too. And I’m sorry. I should have come sooner, but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me.”
“I’ve always wanted to see you.”
Someone cleared her throat in the doorway, and I glanced over to see Lizbet and Ned. Lizbet’s eyes were wide and eager. “Farah, can we come in?”
I struggled to switch gears as she walked in with Ned a pace behind her. “Are you Sam?” she asked, sticking out her hand. “I’m excited to meet you.”
Sam shook her hand. “Same here.”
Ned stood back, and when my eyes met his, I couldn’t read what he was thinking. For a minute, I thought I saw warm affection, but I must have been mistaken. Why would he feel tender toward me? In his eyes, I was a sinner.
Sam stood and leaned around Lizbet to Ned. “I’m Sam, Farah’s brother.”
Ned shook hands with him. “I’m Ned, Lizbet’s brother.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt, but I couldn’t wait to meet you,” Lizbet said. “Farah and I are roommates if she hasn’t told you. Maybe sometime the four of us could do something.”
I stared at Lizbet. I was having trouble catching up. Was she arranging a double date? With our brothers?
Sam sat back down, and his shoulder was right up against mine. “Maybe sometime.”
“Lizbet, let’s go back to the living room and leave these guys alone,” Ned said and took her hand. He led her out of the room, but Lizbet’s eyes didn’t leave Sam and me until the two of them cleared the door.
The front door slammed, echoing through the home, and my bones froze when I heard Dad’s voice. “Where is he?”
Sam tensed and his eyes flew to mine. “Dad?”
My throat went dry, and I nodded.
Steve said, “Mr. Menins, slow down. Is there a problem?”
I jumped off the couch and ran toward the living room. Dad was pulling away from Steve, and when he saw me, he looked past me, his eyes searching.
“Where is he?”
I rushed to him and grabbed him by the arms. “What are you doing here? This is my time with him, my time, do you hear?”
Dad stopped scuffling and fixed his focus on me. “I’m sorry, Farah, I want to see him. Please let me pass.”
His eyes were so pooled with desperation, my heart went silent. I stepped back and to the side, opening his way.
Dad nodded at me and peered into the den where Sam stood waiting, tension emanating from him like noise from
a speaker. Dad didn’t move, only stared, his face twisted into a mixture of shock and yearning.
A weight pressed on my chest, forcing my breath out in short gasps. I was frozen along with Dad and Sam — we were a cold steel triangle. The furnace kicked on, and the swoosh of hot air tumbled through the room, breaking the stalemate.
“Dad.”
“Sam.”
I hadn’t been with Sam for years, but I read the nervousness in the twitch of his left eye in an instant. I scrambled to stand next to him, facing Dad.
Dad’s mouth spasmed, and confusion flashed across his face. He took a step toward us then paused, as if waiting for permission.
I wasn’t about to give it. I put my arm through Sam’s and felt a tightness in his muscles, but then in a quick switch, they relaxed and went smooth.
“How are you, Dad?” Sam asked.
My eyes darted to his face. Was he asking Dad for real? Was he forgiving him so easily?
Tears sprang to Dad’s eyes and he closed them, causing the tears to drip down his face. He tipped his head back and let out a huge breath, then straightened again and looked at Sam with such relief I had to pinch back the tears in my own eyes.
I wouldn’t cry.
I would not. Dad didn’t deserve it.
Sam loosened my grip on his arm and moved toward Dad with slow, deliberate steps. Dad groaned and rushed to Sam, gathering him in a huge hug. I watched from the sidelines like a newly-rejected girl at a school dance.
Both Sam and Dad were crying now. I swallowed past the brick in my throat. Sam raised his head from Dad’s shoulder and stretched out his arm to me. I shook my head and averted my eyes.
Right then Ariel came flying around the corner from the hallway. When she saw us, she skidded to a halt. Her eyes darted from Dad to Sam to me, and I saw the question mark in her expression.
I knew my face was chiseled into a harsh grimness. Ariel tip-toed to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
“What’s going on?” she whispered close to my ear.
“Happy family reunion,” I said, hating how the bitterness rolled off each word.
“Do you need me?”
I put my hand over hers. “Thanks, but no.”
She squeezed my shoulder and left. I considered following her down the hallway back to my room, but I didn’t want to leave Sam. How dared Dad force himself into my reunion? He had no right.
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