My knees buckled when I saw him standing on my doorstep. “Brandon.”
“Marissa, I know I probably shouldn’t have come here, but I don’t know, you’ve just… you’ve just got me crazy worried about you.” He looked a bit like he was shaking. I moved to the side so he could come in. “Just tell me if you’re all right?”
I shut the door but couldn’t turn to face him. “I’m all right.”
“That’s funny, because yesterday you came to my house all heated up, acting all weird, then you take off.” He moved my body so I was facing him now. “You don’t call me. You don’t return my texts.” He took in a big breath and exhaled it slowly. “You leave me hanging in the dark wondering if you’ve been in a car wreck or you’ve just lost your mind.” He paused. “And then some dude answers your phone, and I’m thinking what’s up with the girl?”
“Brandon, I—” In my peripheral vision, I saw Marc walking down the hall. I wanted to wave my arms wildly to motion for him to go back to his bedroom.
But it was too late. Marc walked right past us, in his pajama bottoms, yawning and scratching his head. “Morning,” he mumbled as he meandered to the kitchen.
“Brandon,” I started again.
“Oh I see.” Brandon moved to the door. “I see perfectly now.” He opened the door. “Thanks, Marissa.” A puff of air blew in my face as he slammed the door behind him.
No! I ran after him. “Brandon you don’t get it!” I had trouble keeping up with his long strides.
“I understand everything now, Marissa.” His hand was on his car door handle, and I thrust myself in front of him.
“He’s my brother!” The words were loud and hot on my tongue. I watched Brandon’s eyes change from anger to confusion.
“Your brother?” He cocked his head to the side. “You never told me you had a brother.” His eyes were now filled with questions.
“I know.” Like a timid rabbit, I moved closer to him. “It’s a long story.” I pushed myself into his chest and prayed he’d wrap his arms around me. And he did.
****
Zoe was sitting at the end of my bed with my left foot in her hand. She was painting my toenails a bright fuchsia color. I tried to stay still, but when someone is touching your feet, and those feet happen to be ticklish, it could sometimes be hard.
“Stop fidgeting!” She pulled on my big toe.
“Sorry.”
Zoe cleaned up the mess she made on my pinky toe with a cotton swab. “So, what happened after you told him about Marc?” She started to blow on my toes to help dry them, but that just made me giggle, so she stopped.
Zoe had come over about ten minutes after Brandon had left. I gave her the friend-9-1-1 text. Brandon and I had driven to the coffee shop to talk. I told him stories about Marc, funny stories from when we were growing up together. Then, I told him about how Marc had taken off on his own. He wondered why we didn’t call the cops, and I explained that he was eighteen at the time and that my family knew what was going on. Marc had told us he was leaving, but we just didn’t think he was leaving permanently. When he asked what my family thought was the reason for him taking off, I just spun it like he was a rebel and wanted out of this small town for bigger, better things. I never actually mentioned my mom. Instead, I used the phrase ‘my family’ and nothing more specific. It just seemed like too much information to plop down all at once. I needed to drop the bombs in chunks, for his sake. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. First, I’d get out my dysfunctional family dynamic with my brother, and then I’d mention that I didn’t have a mom. That just couldn’t be told all at once, not today.
“He was totally supportive. He said all families are different and that no family is totally normal.” I said as Zoe started painting the toes on my right foot.
“So what happened when you mentioned your mom?” She raised an eyebrow at me.
I fidgeted a bit. “That kind of… didn’t come up.”
She tossed my foot off her and plopped herself right next to me. “Marissa!”
“What?” I pushed back from her.
“You had the prime opportunity to get out everything about your life, and you didn’t do it?” She shook her head.
I glanced down at my toes that had brushed up against my sheets, leaving bright fuchsia stains on them. “I’m sorry. It just… wasn’t the right time.”
“Marissa! Seriously! I mean, seriously? Like, you’re acting like a baby at this point!” Now she was standing with her hands on her head, pretending to pull her hair out.
“A baby? That’s pretty harsh.” I felt a lump form in the back of my throat, and I fought to swallow it down. “You know what I’ve been through.” The lump reappeared.
“Yes, Marissa, I do.” She sat next to me on my bed. “And that’s why now is the time. Seriously, I love you Marissa, but this is it. I’m going to say something here that you won’t want to hear.” I could see the tears in her eyes.
“I’m listening,” I said, even though I was trying not to.
“You’re letting your mom’s death, like, destroy you.” A tear ran down her cheek, ruining her perfectly applied makeup.
She was right. I felt like all my bones were breaking and my body was an unconnected lump. Zoe stretched out her arms, and I cried on her shoulder for a long time. When she had to
