I ping-pong my gaze between Mom, Dad and Drew. A soft hand wraps around the knee I have crossed over my other leg and my eyes drift shut briefly at the reassuring contact. Connor’s breaking the rules and I don’t even care.
“There’s actually something I need to tell you guys.” I push against the nerves threatening to take hold of my words. “I didn’t go to Arizona to celebrate graduation or my birthday.”
Mom looks like she wants to quiz me, but she doesn’t rush to speak. Looking at Dad, I see the gentle father he’s always been. Endlessly patient, he’s never one to push me.
Connor’s hand slides around to my upper calf to run a knuckle up and down in smooth strokes. The lulling movement saysyou got thiswith every sweep of his fingers.
I steel my spine, fixing my eyes on Mom and Dad. Silverware clatters to the hardwood floor somewhere nearby and I register Drew shifting in my periphery, as I begin. “I went to Arizona because,” I take in a deep breath, my anxious thoughts narrowing in on Connor’s touch to anchor me, “I found my birth parents.”
Stares.
Silence.
“What the fuck!” Drew’s booming voice draws every head to turn. He rises to his feet from a crouched position beside the table, burning with anger as he slams a fistful of silverware on the tabletop. Connor removes his hand from my leg and…I know.
Drew towers over him as Connor raises both of his hands and says, “Drew, calm down.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Vining,” Drew seethes.
“Honey, sit down and let Gretchen explain,” Mom tries to interject, but it goes in one ear and out the other. Drew’s attention is laser-locked on the man beside me.
“I can explain,” Connor says, voice resigned.
No, no, no.This is all wrong. I need to say something, but I’m stunned speechless, terrified of the brother standing in front of me who fumes with a level of restrained aggression I’ve never seen from him before.
“I trusted you to look out for her.”
“Andrew, you’re blowing this out of proportion and you’re making a scene. Sit. Down.” But Dad’s reprimand falls on deaf ears.
“Outside. Now.”
Connor’s shoulders drop before he turns to me with regret in his eyes as he reads the panic in mine. He reaches for my hand. No use hiding the truth now.
“Don’t fucking touch her! Outside.”
Connor pulls his hand away and my vision narrows to a tunnel. The restaurant fades into obscurity along the blurred edges as the mumbled words and labored exhales from my parents tell me theyknow, too. They realize what Drew has discovered—what we’ve been hiding. But I can’t seem to find focus on anything other than the man sitting to my right, broken, despondent and looking like he wishes for one big do-over.
Connor winces, jaw tight like it’s the only thing stopping him from lashing out. With a pained look at my parents, he says, “I’m sorry,” before he gets up and follows my brother to the front door.
I’m unmoving as I watch them walk away. Like a coward, I say nothing.
“Gretchen.” Mom’s calm voice and gentle hand on my arm are a softtap tap tapon the soundproof box I find myself in. “Sweetie?”
I turn to look at her, unseeing, no words to be found.
The three of us shift our attention to the windows at the front of the restaurant in time to see Drew storm on to the sidewalk, Connor on his heels.
My brother flings his arms and lands an accusatory finger hard onto Connor’s chest, heads pivoting throughout restaurant, everyone with a front row seat.
Connor’s hands come up in surrender.
Their mouths are moving, my brother’s faster and more animated than Connor’s steady, more stoic expression and tight-lipped responses.
Drew says something.
Connor replies.
I’m out of my seat, racing for the door, the moment Drew’s fist connects with Connor’s jaw.
