"So, spill," he said, heading straight for the coffeepot. "What's this? No coffee? It's after ten and you have no coffee?"
"I gave it up for Lent." Marilyn shut the door behind him and followed him back to the kitchen area.
"Newsflash, Big Sister. We're not Catholic. We don't do Lent." He paused in his snooping through her cabinets to cock his head in thought. "Doesn't Lent come after Mardi Gras? We haven't had Mardi Gras yet, have we? I don't want to miss any parties."
"Okay, will you accept that I'm doing brunch today? I slept late. Sue me." She handed Joey a mug and he substituted it for the coffee-maker carafe without spilling any of the dripping coffee on the hot plate.
Though only three years separated them, Joey had always seemed decades younger than Marilyn. Until lately. She wondered a minute whether he was growing up or she was reverting. Then she decided it didn't matter.
He pushed up the black "geek" glasses he wore mostly for effect and put the carafe back before turning around. "So?"
"So--what?" Marilyn got out sausage, eggs and onions, then a skillet, rattling the stack of pots more than necessary to hide bathroom noises. Joey probably could hear them, but he might not notice. That was a good thing about geeks.
"Mom said you had some guy in the apartment last night." He took a sip of coffee and held up a finger. "Correction, this morning. At two o'clock in the morning, to be precise. So now tell me she was hallucinating when she thinks she talked to him and I'll get out of your way."
"She wasn't hallucinating." She dumped the whole pound of sausage in the skillet and chopped it apart with a spatula.
Joey's eyebrows lifted above the heavy rim of his glasses. "There really was a guy here?"
"Mm-hmm."
"So show me your tattoo. Mom said you got a snake tattoo."
Marilyn laughed. "No tattoo. Eli was giving her a hard time because she wouldn't believe he was real."
"Maybe I should get a snake tattoo. Whattaya think? A little serpent wrapped around my wrist?" Joey pulled back his coat sleeve to study his wrist. His coat was black leather too, but somehow didn't have quite the same panache as Eli's.
"Are you trying to take back your title as most delinquent child?"
"Okay. No tattoo." He took another sip of his coffee, watching Marilyn stir onions into the crumbled sausage. "I think it was easier being the black sheep. I only had to receive visitations, not make them. Then again, Mom complains about you when she calls now, instead of lecturing me, so I guess overall it's a bonus. I don't get near as many phone calls, either."
She cracked eggs in a bowl, wondering if and how she could ask Eli to stall till Joey left. But Joey wouldn't leave if there was a chance for food, and Eli couldn't stay stuck in the bathroom forever.
"Tell me about Eli," Joey said. "Is he really a teenager?"
"No." Marilyn shook her head over Mom's talent for exaggeration.
"Is he a biker with enough pierced body parts to set off a metal detector?"
"I don't think so."
"Is he a serial killer who's going to murder you in your sleep and sever all your body parts?"
She had to laugh. "No." She handed Joey the bowl of eggs and a fork. "Scramble these. And don't spill any."
Marilyn went to the bathroom door and tapped. "You about done? Brunch will be ready in another minute."
"Yeah. Thanks." The door muffled Eli's voice.
Joey stared, his mouth open far enough to catch not only flies, but giant Luna moths in full wingspread. "He's still here?"
Four
***
Joey set the mixing bowl on the cabinet and met Marilyn halfway, putting his hand to her forehead.
She pushed him away, laughing. "I do not have a fever."
"Well, something's got to be wrong with you. My sisters do not have men for sleepovers."
Marilyn stirred the eggs into the cooked sausage and onions. "Maybe we should. Might get our blood to moving again. Put some bread in the toaster, will you?"
He did as she asked, even pushed the lever down. "Is that it? You're having a midlife crisis?"
She shrugged. "Why not? It's never seemed quite fair to me that men get to have them and women don't."
"That's because women have better sense."
"I do have better sense. Most men screw up their lives with their crises. My life is already screwed up. The way I see it, I can mess up all I want and be no worse off than I am now." She took up the eggs and handed the serving bowl to Joey. "Put this on the table and make some more toast. I'll go get Eli."
"You have to get him?"
Eli opened the door when she tapped on it. He'd put on a pair of her sweatpants and Marilyn had to admit he looked a whole lot better than she did in them. She'd seen him in nothing more than briefs, but the sweats draping low on his narrow hips drew her eyes like the briefs hadn't.
"You don't mind, do you?" Eli gestured at the pants she stared at. "They stretch over the cast, and I don't have to mess with buttons or zippers."
"No, it's fine. Help yourself." She pulled herself out of the spell he'd cast and offered her support.
Joey watched them all the way to the table where Eli eased himself into one of the armchairs.
Marilyn smacked her brother on the shoulder. "Weren't you doing something?"
"Oh, yeah." He set the eggs on the table, still staring.
"Joey, this is Eli," Marilyn said. "Eli, my brother Joey."
"Hey. Nice to meet ya." Eli put his left hand out.
Joey took it for a quick shake. "Likewise." He stepped aside when Marilyn moved him out of her way. "So, did my sister do all that?"
Eli grinned. "Nah. Marilyn's cool. This was three guys with baseball bats."
"And a tire iron," Marilyn added. "You want coffee, Eli?"
"That'd be good. You got milk for it?"
The knots in her stomach loosened a little
