Jack: Can you get doughnuts on your way home?
Prudence: I’m on my way. Will be there around 6:30.
Jack: With doughnuts?
Prudence: Yes, with doughnuts.
Prudence: I’ll get them at the docks before coming home.
Jack: What are you doing at the docks?
Jack: Wait, does Hot grumpy guy live on a boat or something?
Jack: Did you have sex on a boat?
Jack: If the boat sways too much, can you get sea-sick in the middle of sex?
Jack: That would be mortifying.
Prudence: Not on a boat.
Prudence: The docks are just a little detour.
Jack: So you did have sex. Just not on the boat.
Prudence: Be there soon.
PRUDENCE
When I open the front door of our house with a box of four glazed doughnuts, I’m not expecting to see Jack waiting for me on his electric wheelchair, six feet from the entrance, still wearing his pajamas, his shoulder length blond hair in the messiest bun I’ve ever seen.
The door barely closed, he wheels to stop right in front of me, grabs the box from my hand, placing it on his narrow thighs and studies me intensely, ignoring my shocked face.
“Oh. My. God,” he says with a wicked grin.
“What?”
“Have you seen all the bruises on your neck? Was Hot Grumpy Guy an animal or something?”
I roll my eyes and move past him towards our kitchen, walking right through our spacious living room. His chuckle follows me and he reaches me just as I turn the espresso machine on.
“You little minx. Having sexual intercourse outside of wedlock… Daddy dearest would be so disappointed.” I give him a pointed glare. “But at least it was with a member of the opposite gender… So I guess you’re not out of the will yet.”
My jaw hurts from the sudden gritting of my teeth. He can joke about it now, but he doesn’t fool me. When our parents disowned him after he came out to them at twenty-one, it took him months to manage a simple smile. It was even worse when our three other siblings also turned their backs on him for it. Now, it’s only the two of us against the world. Against his disease.Against the sad fate that awaits him—and me, when he’ll be gone.
I tried to talk to our parents once, when he had started to get worse two years after graduating from university. When our father had the nerve to tell me that it was God’s way of punishing him for his sins, I knew I wanted nothing to do with that family ever again. How can you believe that? How is any of this okay? Jack has been sick forever with a disease that was slowly attacking his muscles and nerves. They never were perfect, but in their own way, they did love and care for him. At least at first. I think. How can him being gay could change all that? How was I the only one vouching for him in our supposedly perfect family?
“I don’t want to be on that stupid will,” I mutter.
He doesn’t know that our dear father already threatened to take me off it. But if I have to leave my brother behind to get money? Forget it; I don’t want it. Their money doesn’t mean shit to me anyway. It might be hypocritical to say that now since they did pay for my university degree in full. But, oh well, look how I care. I’ve got my degree now, and I would have gotten it even if I had to take a student loan.
“Do you want a coffee?” I look for the cups at their usual spot but can’t find any.
“Yes please. Cups are in the dishwasher. It’s clean but I didn’t empty it yet.”
I grab two of them and press the button to start pouring. One sugar for him, none for me. He starts drinking while I put the clean dishes away.
“So… How was your night?” He asks with a grin, opening the doughnut box on his knees to start placing them on a small plate, and picks up one.
