The Other Brother

by Brandon Massey

"I think it's time for me to get to the point." Pops drained his beer and tossed the bottle in a recycling bin against the wall. Leaning against the jeep, he dug his hands deep in his pockets and bowed his head, gazing at a spot on the concrete floor. "I owe you an apology, Gabriel. I was wrong for how I treated you. I'm sorry."

  Gabriel's lips parted, but he didn't speak. He was stunned.

  Silence hung between them, thick as smoke.

  Pops wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, as though he could erase the memory of the words that had passed his lips.

  Gabriel waited for his father to continue. But Pops only raised his head and looked at Gabriel questioningly, and Gabriel realized that Pops was finished. It had taken a lot for Pops to humble himself enough to offer three contrite sentences. He wasn't going to say anything else.

  Gabriel would have to be happy with that.

  "Okay," Gabriel said. "Let's put this behind us then"

  Pops offered his hand and they exchanged a firm shake. Then Pops started toward the door and Gabriel followed him inside the house.

  As he viewed his father from behind, he noticed the slump in his father's shoulders and the slight forward incline in his stance, as though Pops were walking against a strong wind. Stress, Gabriel thought, had weakened his father. He was beginning to look frail. Before Isaiah had arrived, his father had seemed, to him, like the most powerful, commanding presence on Earth. But he was only a man. He wasn't invincible, and time and circumstance were wearing him down.

  It was such a sad realization that Gabriel blinked away a tear.

  Pops draped his suit jacket across his shoulder. "I wanted to tell you, we've had a change of plans for Father's Day. I know it's been our tradition to go to the cabin and go fishing. But I don't think I have the energy for that this year."

  "I understand. It wouldn't be a good idea for us to go away on a trip anyway, what with everything that's happened"

  "That, too," Pops said. "So we're going to have a family dinner at the house on Sunday. Four o'clock sharp"

  "We'll be there"

  Pops opened the door. Gabriel stopped his father with a hand on his shoulder.

  "Thanks, Pops," he said. "For you to say what you said, it means a lot to me"

  Pops smiled tightly, clasped Gabriel's hand, and then walked outside.

  Pops wasn't an emotionally expressive man, but he was Gabriel's father-and Gabriel loved him all the same.

  Later that night, lying beside Dana in bed after making love, Gabriel turned to her and said, "You know, Pops apologized to me today."

  "He did?" Dana propped her head on her elbow, regarded him with amazement. "What brought that on, I wonder?"

  "I think it's been eating him up inside. He knew he was wrong. He wanted to do the right thing."

  "You think that's it?" Dana said.

  "What else would it be?"

  "I don't know. But you've told me before that your dad never apologizes. Why this time?"

  "Nothing this serious has ever happened to our family," Gabriel said. "It stands to reason that the old way of doing things, not apologizing or whatever, has to change. At any rate, I'm happy with it."

  "That's all that matters then," she said. She laid her head on the pillow and traced her fingers across his bare chest.

  "You think there's another reason why he apologized?"

  "It doesn't matter what I think, Gabe. He's your father, and if you're happy with his apology, that's good enough for me.

  "I still want to know what you think."

  "Honestly?"

  "Yeah," he said. "Honestly."

  "I think your dad has a lot of secrets," she said. "Sure, I think he was apologizing partly for the disaster with Isaiah, but I also think he might've been apologizing out of guilt for what he's still keeping hidden from you."

  Gabriel thought about the secret his mother had almost revealed to him at the hospital. But that didn't involve Pops, did it? It was something Mom had concealed from him and had nothing to do with his father.

  Right?

  He asked Dana, "What else do you think he's kept hidden from me?"

  "If I had any idea, I'd tell you. But I don't know. Call it a gut feeling."

  That brought a chuckle out of him.

  "If you'd said that two weeks ago, I would've been insulted," he said. "But if I've learned anything after all this, it's that my father isn't perfect. He's human, he makes mistakes, and he's got skeletons in the closet just like anyone else. For all I know, you could be right. Am I going to press him about it? No. He apologized and I think he was sincere. I'm going to leave it at that"

  "Wow." Dana ran her finger along his cheek. "You don't sound like the Gabriel I met three years ago."

  "The Gabriel you met three years ago was a boy."

  She moved on top of him. She looked down at him and smiled.

  "I love you," she said. She'd told him those three words plenty of times recently, evidence that he was not the only one who had grown.

  "Love you, too" He kissed her.

  They made love again.

  Gabriel awoke from a nightmare. He swam to consciousness, shuddering. Cold sweat filmed his face and chest.

  "You okay?" Dana asked sleepily.

  "Yeah, it was only a dream"

  But the nightmare had been incredibly vivid. In it he'd been standing in front of the bathroom mirror, but he didn't see himself reflected; he saw Isaiah. Isaiah shouted at him, "This ain't done yet, motherfucker," and leaped through the mirror, glass shattering as if it were some kind of supernatural window. And then Isaiah grabbed Gabriel by the throat and flung him into the garden tub, which was full of hissing water moccasins....

  Gabriel shook his head, clearing the horrifying images from his thoughts. His bladder was full. He didn't want to use the bathroom, didn't want to look into that mirror. But he had no choice.

  He rose out of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. At the threshold, he paused. He gazed at the mirror. The glass was dappled with silvery moonlight. A shadowy figure regarded him.

  Trembling, he flicked on the light switch.

  Isaiah was not in the mirror. He was looking only at himself, his eyes red and anxious.

  "See?" he told himself. "Only a dream "

  But a chill gripped him, and it was slow to let go.

  Chapter 5 0

  i unday was an atypical June day in Atlanta: cool, overcast, 1 and windy. Severe thunderstorms were forecast for later in the evening, forcing families planning Father's Day barbecues to enjoy their feasts before the sky dumped its rain on their gatherings, and keeping eyes glancing warily at the thickening shroud of gray-black clouds.

  "I'm a little worried about this dinner," Gabriel said to Dana as he steered his jeep onto his parents' street. Brisk wind harried leaves and debris across the road in front of them. "So much is still up in the air, with Isaiah at large and Nicole recovering. I wonder if anyone will be in a mood to celebrate Father's Day, of all things."

  "Stay positive," Dana said. "We might have a great time. We deserve a little happiness after all we've been through lately."

  He parked in the driveway. Pops answered the door.

  "Happy Father's Day!" Gabriel and Dana said in unison. Gabriel thrust a wrapped gift and a card into his father's hands.

  "Thanks, kids," Pops said. He welcomed them inside, kissing Dana on the cheek and giving Gabriel a hearty handshake.

  Pops looked much better than he had a couple of days ago. His posture had improved, his shoulders once more thrown back, broad and proud. His eyes were clear and alert. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed. Dressed in a beige buttondown shirt and dark slacks, Pops resembled the dignified father and CEO Gabriel loved and admired.

  "Something smells good," Gabriel said. "What did Mom cook for dinner?"

  "Believe it or not, I cooked dinner," Pops said. "I put some filet mignons on the grill, and we'll have potatoes, salad, a couple other dishes. I admit it's not up to your mom's gourmetchef standards, but
I wanted to turn over a new leaf this year. Why shouldn't I cook for my family for Father's Day when I'm so blessed to have you?"

  "That's very nice of you," Dana said.

  "No kidding," Gabriel said. "The last time Pops cooked I think I was seventeen, when Mom had come down with a bad case of the flu"

  "What did he cook?" Dana asked.

  "Hamburger Helper," Gabriel said, and all of them laughed.

  They walked into the grand salon. Mom greeted them with hugs and kisses. Nicole sat in a chair near the fireplace and rose to hug them, too.

  Nicole looked good. Her skin was radiant and her eyes sparkled.

  "How've you been doing?" Gabriel asked her.

  "I'm fine during the day," she said. Her face darkened. "Nights are a challenge, though. I've been taking sleeping pills or else I wouldn't get any sleep at all. Nightmares."

  "I feel you," Gabriel said, remembering his dream from the other night.

  "I don't think they'll end until the police catch him," she said. "Until I know for sure that he's locked away and can't get to me again."

  Gabriel wished he could reassure her that Isaiah would be captured soon, but he didn't because he didn't entirely believe it. Isaiah was cunning, and with his talents, who knew how long he could evade arrest?

  "Whether they catch him or not, I won't let him do anything to you again," he said. "That's a promise."

  Nicole hugged him again. "Thanks, Gabe"

  He pinched her cheek. "That's what big brothers are for."

  "Dinner should be ready shortly," Pops said. He wrapped an apron around his waist and headed toward the patio door. "Marge, can you get drinks for the kids, please? I'm going to check the steaks"

  "What would you guys like?" Mom asked. "We have sweet tea, wine, beer, and soda"

  "Sweet tea's fine for me," Dana said.

  "Gabe?" Mom asked. She began to walk toward the kitchen. "What would you like?"

  "Let me see what kind of beer you have," Gabriel said and followed his mother.

  He trailed her to the kitchen on purpose. It was the first time, since visiting Nicole at the hospital, that he had been alone with her.

  They had unfinished business to discuss.

  As Mom filled a tall glass with ice and lifted the pitcher of sweet tea, Gabriel opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of Samuel Adams, and approached her at the counter.

  "We never finished our conversation at the hospital," he said in a lowered voice. "You were going to tell me something important."

  Mom spilled tea onto the countertop.

  "Oh, Lord," she said. She snatched a roll of paper towels, ripped one off, and began mopping up the spill. She avoided his gaze.

  "Mom?" Gabriel touched her shoulder. "Please. Tell me"

  She shook her head, eyes downturned. "Forget I said anything, baby. I never should have brought it up"

  "What are you hiding from me? If it's about me, I have a right to know."

  "I'm sorry I ever said anything. Let it go, Gabe. Please. It's better that way"

  You can't imagine the secrets I've kept hidden from you, most of all.

  Gabriel gritted his teeth. Mom put down the paper towels and placed her hand on top of his.

  "Please trust me, we should leave this alone," she said. "If you really must know-and, Lord help me, I don't think you should-then it's not my place to tell you"

  "Then whose is it?" Gabriel said.

  Pops bustled into the kitchen. He carried a large platter heaped with steaming filets. "The steaks are done!"

  Mom glanced at his father and then gave Gabriel a look that answered his question.

  They took dinner in the sunroom. Fine-mesh screen windows allowed cool air to filter inside, but kept annoying bugs at bay. Even if it began raining and the sky steadily darkened, proof that rain was near-they would stay dry.

  Dinner was delicious. They feasted on thick, juicy filet mignons. Baked potatoes. Tossed salad with blue-cheese dressing. Pops promised an equally delicious dessert, too.

  As they dined, their conversation was light and sprinkled with humor. Gabriel, like the rest of them, had endured enough hardship in the past couple of weeks to give him a newfound appreciation for the joys of a good meal in the company of loved ones, and he avoided any topics-namely, Isaiah-likely to stir controversy or discomfort.

  Nevertheless he was determined to have a private conversation with his father sometime that evening. In spite of Mom's warning that it would be best if he did not uncover the secrets, curiosity percolated in his stomach. What could be so terrible that he was better off not knowing about it? Al though he remained an active participant in the dinner talk, the question echoed in the chambers of his mind.

  Pops served dessert: New York-style cheesecake with fresh strawberry topping. It was superb.

  "Wow, Pops," Gabriel said. "You really put your foot in this. I'm amazed."

  "I have to confess that I didn't make the cheesecake" Pops grinned sheepishly. "I picked it up from the Cheesecake Factory."

  "And I was about to give you another compliment, too," Nicole said and laughed.

  "For real," Dana said. "I was about to ask you to cater the food at our wedding."

  Mention of Dana and Gabriel's upcoming October wedding sparked a new line of conversation among the women. They began talking about flower arrangements, bridal dresses, food, invitations ...

  Quickly losing interest, Gabriel found himself looking out the window at the backyard. A drizzle had begun to fall, droplets rippling across the swimming pool. The strengthening wind ruffled the trees and shrubbery. Distantly, thunder grumbled.

  Gabriel noticed that his father had bowed out of the conversation, too. Pops sipped coffee and, with dull interest, watched the women chattering.

  Gabriel caught his father's eye. "You up for a game of pool, Pops? They'll be talking about wedding stuff for a while."

  "Let's go," Pops said, rising from his chair.

  Mom glanced knowingly at Gabriel as he and his father left the table. She knew him well.

  He had to get to the bottom of this.

  Chapter 5 1

  n ops and Gabriel went downstairs to the recreation room l ' on the terrace level. The rec room had stack-stone walling, a fireplace, and a professional-quality rosewood billiards table. Floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors dominated one side of the room, providing a view of the flagstone patio and swimming pool.

  The rain had begun to fall in sheets; the pool now appeared to be boiling like a cauldron.

  "My game is rusty," Pops said. He took a cue from the rack on the wall. "It's been a couple of months since I've played."

  "Already making excuses, are we?" Gabriel said. He began placing the balls inside the wooden triangle on the woolen table surface.

  "But I'm sure I can still kick your butt," Pops said, ever the competitor. Pops hated to lose, a trait Gabriel had acquired from him. When Gabriel had been a teenager living at home, they'd used to shoot pool into the wee hours of the morning, neither of them wanting to accept defeat, calling it quits only when exhaustion forced them to a draw.

  "Rack 'em up, kid," Pops said. "You break first"

  Gabriel lifted the rack. Then he sharpened the tip of his favorite cue, aimed at the white cue ball, and pumped a smooth stroke, scattering the balls across the table with a satisfying clatter.

  "Seven in the left corner pocket," Gabriel said. He shotand missed.

  "Looks like I'm not the only one who's rusty," Pops said. He bent forward, surveying an angle for a possible shot.

  "I wanted to talk to you about something," Gabriel said.

  "Yeah?" Pops studied the balls.

  Gabriel checked the staircase, confirming that no one was nearby. "About a week ago, Mom said something about a secret she's kept hidden from me. Something really important. But she wouldn't tell me what it was-she said it wasn't her place to say. She hinted that I should ask you"

  Pops's lips were drawn in a firm line. He rose out of hi
s crouch, clutching the cue stick as though it were a weapon.

  "Your mother said that, did she?" he said. "Did she tell you you're better off not knowing?"

  "She did. But I want to know."

  "You don't need to know."

  Gabriel laid the cue across the table. "Pops, I'm a grown man. Whatever it is, I can handle it. And if it's about me, I have a right to know."

  "Shit, I thought you wanted to play pool," Pops said. He tried to rack the cue stick, ended up dropping it on the floor. Cursing, he kicked it away and snatched his handkerchief out of his pocket. He mopped his face.

  "What it is?" Gabriel asked softly but firmly. "I need to know."

  "Wasn't finding out about Isaiah bad enough?" Pops said. He balled the handkerchief in his fist. "Goddamn it, why the hell did Marge bring this up?"

  "She wants me to know the truth"

  "She should've talked to me about this first" Muttering, Pops leaned against the edge of the billiards table. He closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose, a gesture Gabriel had picked up from him.

  Quietly, Gabriel waited. On the other side of the room, rain beat against the windows, streamed down the doors. Lightning ripped across the angry purple-black sky, followed soon after by a burst of thunder.

  "Okay," Pops said. "Can you run upstairs and get us a couple beers? I'm going to need another one for this and so will you"

  "I'll be right back," Gabriel said.

  Theo watched his son ascend the stairs. He sighed.

  The truth could set you free. It also could give you a migraine.

  His son wanted to know the truth. But once Theo told him, he was going to wish he hadn't asked.

  Theo wanted to strangle Marge for bringing up this mess in the first place. They'd had an agreement: this was one secret they would never, ever divulge to anyone. She had broken her promise.

  In spite of his anger toward his wife, Theo had to admit that he-and he alone-ultimately bore responsibility for the situation. Gabriel would realize that and blame him. The thought of his son hating him forever, so soon after they had mended fences, intensified Theo's headache.

  He heard a footstep behind him. He looked over his shoulder.