“I will.”
I don't get a word out before one of my ten-year-old twin nephews' faces fill the screen. “Ant-Ant!” The nickname the boys had called me since they could talk brings a smile to my face, even if Parker's volume makes me worry for the phone's mic.
“Hey! What's up?” The video takes a Blair Witch-esqueturn, all muffled sound and shaky camera work, for a solid minute. “Y'all still there?”
“Fine!” Parker says. “We can both be in it.” Parker and Asher, mirror images of my brother at their age, come into focus.
“Does your mom know you have her phone?” They exchange a conspiratorial look. “Thought so.”
“We can use it for important stuff, and this is important,” Asher reasons.
Parker nods in agreement.
I barely hold back a laugh. “Alright then. What important stuff do you need to talk to me about?”
What follows is an impassioned debate—one I take sole responsibility for—about who the best Star Trek captain is. Unsurprisingly, Asher, the more bookish of the boys, argues in favor of Picard while Parker is Team Kirk.
Once I knew I'd be moving to Somerville, I decided to save money and take up my brother's offer to stay with his family in New Orleans for a few months. To say the least, it had been an experience.
Not a bad one. I just didn't know how to do the whole family thing.
The last time I'd spent any significant time cohabitating with a blood relation, I’d been seventeen. While I wasn't nursing several bruised ribs and a fractured orbital bone this time, I felt just as shattered. Yet again, seeking some kind of shelter with the brother I hardly knew.
I hated it . . . for all of a week.
It was hard to be too miserable with two funny, sweet, loud swamp gremlins around. Sure, I'd seen them for holidays and a few long weekends here and there, but never enough time to really get to know them. But this time, I threw myself into full auntie mode, finding that I kind of loved it.
As an added bonus, hanging out with them made things alittle less awkward between Ben and me. We still struggled, but it felt less like we were well-acquainted strangers and a little more like we were brother and sister.
“Ok,” I cut into their tirade. “You've both presented solid arguments. But you're wrong.”
“Which one of us?” Asher asks.
“Both of you.” They look flabbergasted. “You haven't even gotten to the best captain yet.”
“Boys, have you seen your mama's phone?” I hear Ben's deep drawl call out.
“Busted,” I taunt.
“Why're y'all botherin' your Ant-Ant?”
I laugh. “They're fine. We were just discussing who the superior Star Trek captain is.”
“You've ruined my children.” He takes the phone, my brother’s face replacing the boy's. There was little denying the resemblance between us. For better or worse, the Devereaux blood ran strong. “Say bye to Ant-Ant and go help your mama with dinner, please.”
“Bye Ant-Ant! Love you!”
“Love y'all, too!” I call back.
Ben waits until the thunder of their retreat fades before asking, “How are you?”
I shrug, a twinge of guilt at not checking in with him souring my stomach. “Not bad. Settling in.”
“Given any thought to where you're going next?”
Why was everybody obsessed with asking me this fucking question?
“I haven't even unpacked all my boxes, Ben.” Or practically any of them.
