Leo:There’s a flu bug going around her office, so she’s playing it safe and staying in. How’s sunny Florida?
Pete:Is she taking her meds?
Leo: Of course she is. Go enjoy the sunshine, you lucky bastard.
Henry: Tell him the truth, Leo. She hasn’t taken them in days. We sold them to the highest bidder. But the good news is, we got enough cash to join you on your vacation. Hope you’ve got bunk beds!
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a calming breath. People wonder how I can wrangle my teammates and never lose my temper. They marvel at the fact that I’m going to make a career out of teaching science to middle schoolers. They want to know where my patience comes from.
Henry Martin Santos.
That’s where.
My brothers and I follow the textbook definition of birth order. I’m the responsible one, the one who acts more like a dad than a brother. Leo is the consummate middle child. He’s the voice of reason and the mediator. And Henry? He’s the baby. The charmer. The jokester.
He’s always cracking one-liners or spinning tales. It annoys the shit out of me, to be honest, but he makes Ma laugh, and she needs that, so I settle for giving him side-eyes and noogies at every opportunity.
Henry: You still there, big guy? You didn’t stroke out on us, did you?
Leo: Nice going, Hen. He’s probably boarding a plane as I type.
Pete: I’m still here. Leo, you’ve got practice tonight while Gram has card club, right? Is Mrs. Saltzman coming over?
Leo:Yep.
Pete: Good. Hen, how’s French? Did you catch up on your missing work?
Henry: Nah. But my tutor’s hot. We’re probly gonna run off to Paris and elope. So I won’t need the credit because I’m dropping out. On the plus side, I bet I’ll learn French when I live in France.
Pete: At least you’ve got a plan. Tell Ma and Gram I love them and I’ll call tonight.
Leo: Dude. We got this. Just go have fun. Or swim with manatees or whatever.
Pete:I’ll call tonight.
The boys don’t respond, and that’s fine. I know they get pissed at me because I hover, but I won’t apologize for that. Over the last several years, I’ve watched Ma go through hell. She was first diagnosed with breast cancer when I was even younger than Henry is now. Dad left about six months later, and I became the unofficial head of the family. It’s a role I don’t take lightly. So yeah, I micromanage and piss my brothers off, but if they knew how close we came to losing Ma back then, or even last fall when her cancer returned, they’d cut me a little slack.
I feel a headache coming on, so I chug some water andcheck the time. I’ve got eight minutes left on my break, so I pull up my contacts and make a call.
Van answers on the second ring.
“Hey, man, how’s it going?” my best friend asks.
“Can’t complain. It’s sunny and warm and I’m getting paid to play in the water. Life could definitely be worse. How about you?”
He knows what I’m asking. I want to know if he’s seen another doc or if there’s been any change in his prognosis. Life can be pretty fucking unfair sometimes. That’s a fact I know well. Just over a month ago, Van was getting looks from scouts and planning for a future in the NHL. In a split second, everything changed. A dirty hit shattered his knee and the career he had his heart set on.
“Surgery’s scheduled for the week after next. But I’m good. I’ve got the world’s best nurse taking care of me.”
“Tell Josie I say hi.”
“Will do. She’s in the shower now. We had a… um… I mean, I had a PT session, and?—”
“Anyway,” I interrupt, cutting him off. I’m damn glad Van and Josie sorted their shit out. They’re two of my favorite people in the world and there’s no doubt they belong together. But I don’t need to hear about their exercise regimen, or whatever they’re calling it. It’s bad enough that in a few weeks when Van and I are back at school and living in the hockey house, I’ll have to hear whatever it is they’re up to because the walls are so damn thin. That alone will be torturous enough. No need to start now.
Van just laughs as I gather up my trash and toss my containers back in my bag so I can re-use them tomorrow.
“Got any big plans for tonight?” he asks. “Half the baseball team is on your trip, right? You know Lanza’s probably got a freaking bar set up in his dorm room.”
