“Thanks.”
# # #
After dinner, the brothers cleaned up the kitchen while their parents went off to watch TV. Usually, one of them was reading a book and the other was working on some sort of hobby, but because the TV was on they always called it “watching TV.”
“You want a ride back?” Ricky asked.
“No, I think I’ll stay here. My roommate is having company this weekend and I could use a chance to catch up on some assignments and reading.”
Ricky nodded. Their mother had predicted as much. Somehow just talking to George on the phone she had come to the conclusion that he needed some time away from school to actually do some schoolwork. It turned out that she was right.
“I really studied them at dinner,” George said as he dried a plate. “I think you’re wrong. They’re perfectly happy together right now.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant. Can I draw a rude conclusion?” George asked.
“When has my opinion ever stopped you from being rude?”
George smiled. He put the dry plate away and reached for the next one.
“You’re projecting. Something about that one summer is bothering you recently and it’s making you want to resolve something. What was it?”
Ricky sucked air through his teeth and looked through the window at the woods. They were filling up with snow, just like in that Robert Frost poem. He and Tucker were going to have to slog through it in the morning unless he…
“Ricky?”
“Sorry?”
“I asked why you’ve been so consumed with events that happened years ago.”
Ricky took a breath and let it out slowly as he glanced at the other room. Their mother was too perceptive. Ricky didn’t even want to talk about it when she was only a room away. He was starting to get superstitious just like the Harpers.
“Not here,” Ricky said. “Come to my place after they’ve gone to bed.”
George nodded.
While Ricky washed the bubbles down the drain, George went to the living room and announced his plans.
“I’m staying here this weekend. I want to catch up on some assignments.”
“You want a wakeup call in the morning for the breakfast buffet?” Mary asked.
“Turndown service in your suite?” Vernon added.
“Good night. I’ll be up late writing,” George said. He rolled his eyes as he and Ricky passed.
“What about you? Are you staying at Hotel de los Padres tonight as well?” his father asked.
“I thought me and Tucker would hang out for a bit before I head home.”
“You working this weekend?”
“Nope. Monday night is my next shift.”
“How about some ice fishing tomorrow? We’ll drag George out on the pond.”
“Yeah. I’m in,” Ricky said.
“Don’t count on George,” Mary said. She was still focused on her book even though she was following the conversation. “He has a lot of work to do. I don’t want him distracted.”
Vernon nodded. “Figures. Cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon, and whatnot.”
“Oh, poor you,” Mary said. “You spent every waking moment with those boys when they were growing up. Don’t pretend like you never got any time with them.”
Vernon kept going like she hadn’t said a word. “One day, he’ll be a famous professor or whatever and they’ll say, ‘You must have had good role models growing up. A father who loved you and took you ice fishing,’ and he’ll say, ‘I honestly don’t remember him.’”
“Oh, please,” Mary said. She made a point of tucking her nose into her book to show that she wasn’t interested in hearing any more of his nonsense.
Ricky picked up the remote control. Neither of his parents were really watching, so he felt it was okay to browse through the channels. Ricky was old enough to really remember when a person had to channel surf in order to pass the time. His brother had always had whatever entertainment he wanted at his fingertips, or so it seemed. It was impossible for people George’s age to really deal with boredom. They had never been subjected to it.
“What was that?” Vernon asked.
“What?” Ricky asked.
“That program about bathrooms. Put it back.”
“It was just a long commercial, Dad. They talk for thirty minutes about bathroom trends but then you find out they’re just trying to sell their tub inserts or whatever.”
“Well, put it back. I need to get some ideas.”
Ricky sighed and changed the channel back. He should have known—nobody cared about what was on until Ricky tried to find something more interesting. His father stopped focusing on his crossword puzzle and was now glued to the infomercial.
“Those are the kind of tiles I was thinking,” Vernon said.
Ricky watched for ten minutes and then saw that the next show was going to be more of the same. His father would want to watch that as well.
“I’m going to head home,” Ricky said. “I’ll see you in the morning for fishing.”
In response, he got a nod from his father and a wave from his mother. Tucker led the way to the car and waited at the rear door.
“You know, since we’re coming back in the morning, maybe we should walk home.”
The dog danced in a tight circle. He would have been happy no matter what Ricky said.
“You want to do that?”
The moment Ricky started to turn, Tucker sprinted off towards the trail and leapt over the snow bank. Ricky followed more slowly. He never shoveled the path between his house and his parents’. He and tucker just stomped down a path as the winter wore on. This winter, they had already had a few good warm days, so the snow was shallow and hard. Here and there along the path, it had little side trails that Tucker blazed in order to check out an interesting smell. Ricky turned back to look at the house that he grew up in before they started down the hill.
The house sat in a circle of warm yellow light, spilling from the windows. Upstairs, George’s light was on. That was nice to see. His brother was visiting less and less. It wouldn’t
