Distant relative

[Lucas: eighteen years old]

It has been too long since I last saw my brother. And even longer since he last spoke to me. I think the last time we talked properly, was that night as children. The night he told me about his mum, and mum caught us kissing. She seemed worried. Now I’m older I understand, it was because I didn’t see the kiss as she did. I explained, and she warned us not to do it again. It wasn’t brother-ly.

The morning after I spoke to Robert. I repeated what Ricky told me, so he wouldn’t worry. Except then Ricky stopped speaking to me. I’d betrayed his trust, and even among seven-year-olds there’s such a thing as secrets. And I didn’t keep his.

We still played together, or I played and he drew, but we did it together. He just never spoke. Or shared his pictures. The one time we played with each other since that, he tried to kiss me when he was happy with his painting and I pushed away. Then that was it. Boarding school at 11 and never seen again. He didn’t come home at Christmas or any other time. Five years since I’ve seen him. Who is he now?

“Get ready, Ricky is coming home. Finally.” Mum grinned. “I want everything to be perfect.”

My dad just patted her shoulders, “Sandra, relax, we’ve all missed him. I’m sure he’s missed us.”

Not me. Letters to mum. Letters to dad. Letters to Dr Daniels. He even sent a letter to the maid in charge because she helped him draw. But none for me. His own fucking brother.

He was supposed to catch an afternoon train, so I could drive mum and dad to pick him up. I agreed. It would give me a chance to give him a piece of my mind when we were in the car alone. Mum and dad would get out at the petrol station and I’d lock him in to demand he explain shutting me out. He can not like me for sharing his secrets, but I’m his brother and he won’t ignore me. Not now or ever.

But he ruined that. Walked into the kitchen during breakfast. He’d caught an earlier train, wanted to surprise everyone without being a bother. Didn’t want to waste my fuel. As if he cared.

He looked different. He’d left a cute, quiet boy. Ginger hair to his shoulders, green eyes that were too frightened to look at you. A shy boy hiding behind a sketchbook like a shield, wearing designer clothes like a model of children’s wear. Now he was an edgy teen. His hair was short, dyed red at the ends. He looked me in the eyes when he greeted me, and everyone else. No sketchbook in his hands, maybe in his messenger bag. And he dressed like a film noir character, all black and grey even though they were still designer. Gothic, like the twilight-crazed vampire wannabes from high school.

“I’ve been called to the office.” Robert frowned, “I wanted more time. I’ll try to be quick.”

I never understood where his money came from as kid. The demanding life of being a top class lawyer. Always being called away, day or night, to hear about clients who insisted they needed the best for their cases. And that was him.

Mum needed to leave too, being paged to the hospital for a big emergency. She knew she wasn’t coming home for a while, surgeons had timetables as unsteady as lawyers. But it meant alone time with Ricky. He wasn’t trapped in a small space, like the car, where he was forced to listen to me. But it would do.

“Just you and me, Ricky.”

He stared at me. I searched for a hint to his thoughts. Happy to see me? Wanted to run away? But his eyes showed nothing. And then he turned away and left the dining room. I followed him through familiar corridors, the route we made as children to the old playroom. Though it was now my office, my silent sanctuary for studying. But I offered to hang out here. It would be the same, but more adult. I wouldn’t play with dolls. He said nothing, and he didn’t make a move to relax.

“Ricky, it’s been five years. I can’t take my eyes off you, so why can’t you look at me?” I scowled.

He shrugged.

That was it. He just shrugged. Didn’t give an explanation, or apology for shutting me out for years. This was all new to me, and I had a week with a younger brother to care for and keep me sane. Then I had nothing. I was nine years old, and I had nobody. Mum had Rob, and he had her. Rick was supposed to be my family, my support system. And he left first chance he got, like that cousin from the wedding.

He tried to leave the room, but I stood in the doorway. I wanted to know why I didn’t matter to him, why he spoke to everyone and had sent letter and looked so happy to see them, while he barely looked at me at all. I wanted my brother back, not a distant relative.

“You do matter.”

At some point, I’d started looking at the floor. It wasn’t his words that startled me, it was his voice. I looked to his face, trying to close off pain I didn’t see. His voice was tight, holding in what he could and trying to not acknowledge the things that slipped free. He looked into my eyes, pain and something deeper drowning in the green. He looked so desperate, but for what? I didn’t know. But not for long.

[Ricky: sixteen years old]

“You do matter to me. You matter the most to me. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me, not a clue.” I choked, holding back tears as best I could.

I confided in him about my mum, what happened before dad met Sandra. And he told everyone. I didn’t trust him anymore, I couldn’t talk to him anymore. Then he pulled away too.

“It was my fault for thinking you’d stay by me while I ignored you. Stupid thoughts of a child. But I couldn’t be around when you didn’t want me. So I left. You might have missed me for five years, but you don’t even know wants happened to me. I’m trying to be your brother, but it’s hard. So just leave me to it.”

I tried to get passed him. He was in such shock that I thought it would be easy to slip passed him. But he didn’t budge. I was taller than him, I could probably overpower him if it came to that. But I didn’t want to touch him, I couldn’t.

“You abandoned me. You were all I had, and you shut me off. Of course I’d think you don’t care. And crying about how hard it is to be my brother makes that point. I want to know about school, I want you to catch me up on five years worth of letters. Don’t bitch that I don’t know when you said nothing, just tell me.”

“You want to know why I shut you off? Because I had to.” I glared, “The boys in my class were thinking about girls. I was thinking about you. My best friend invited a girl to spend my fifteenth birthday with me, and it was the little kisses you used to give me that I thought of while she was on me. I’m still a fucking ****** because I’m the freak who wants to **** my step brother. I can’t send you letters without writing that I miss your lips. I can’t come home during summer because I can’t bare seeing you with all your fawning girlfriends. I can’t stand here talking to you about this because all I want is the contents of your desk on the floor because I’m using it study you.

“But you want a brother, you miss having that family support system, so I’m trying. I’m not using my height advantage to pin you to the door, I’m keeping my distance and being your brother because that’s what will make you happy. So yes, it’s hard to be your brother.”

“Rock hard.”

I tried to see what made him mock my pain, but his eyes were on my body. A particular part of my body. I refused to flee from his gaze, I was serious and I wanted him to know. I needed him to accept I felt like this, that I was here because it was the first holiday opportunity that he didn’t have a girlfriend. He needed to see the extent that I wanted him.

He peaked back up to me. I’d missed his sweet chocolate eyes, like warm freshly-baked brownies. They dragged me into their depths, drawing me forward like a magnet, connecting our lips before I could think to stop myself. And after that I couldn’t. I was his, and he was mine. And I needed a him more than anyone else. I loved him.

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