“Nah, man, can’t a guy call his little brother?”
“No, because you don’t ever call me,” August said. “You’re a text and email kinda guy. Now I’m worried. What’s going on?”
Laughing, I sat down at the table. “Nothing, man. There’s just news I don’t want to text you with. First and foremost, Aubrey is here with me. She brought the kids.”
“No! That’s awesome. Isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” I said. “She’s moved in and she’s divorcing the shitstain.”
“Oh, my God. That’s great! Can I actually get to know my big sister now? And niece and nephew?”
“Yes, totally, anytime you like. This summer? I have bedrooms. Well, one more bedroom and a pull out if you want anyone to stay over.”
August cleared his throat. “Well, we’d be sharing if she agrees to visit.”
“Oh ho, the little bro is hooked up,” I teased him.
“Tessa and I have been dating for six months,” he said, quietly. “We’re thinking about getting an apartment together next year.”
“Hey, hey, no rush man. You’re just twenty-one. You have time.”
I could almost see him smirking. “When you know, you know, man.”
“Agreed.” I nodded. “Have you told her?”
August coughed a bit. “No. I haven’t told anyone.”
The laughter bubbled out of me. “Really? Three years you’ve been there and it’s never slipped once?”
“Not once,” he said, proud.
“What is she studying?”
The chuckle was clear through the phone. “You ready for this?”
“Yes.”
“Music.”
We both burst out laughing. “You’re so mean to your girl, Gus! You’d better tell her!”
“I’m going to. By the time it comes to getting a place, we’ll have to put the finances on the table and she’s going to need to know where the moola is coming from. Especially since I work part time as a barista.”
“Well, tell her and come out so you can meet Carly and Devon and get to know Aubrey. Ooh, family portrait!”
“Uh, no…”
“Loosen up,” I said. “So, there’s one other thing I have to tell you before the world finds out tomorrow in the interview.”
He gasped, “Don’t tell me the band is breaking up?”
“Not even close, man. We have big plans, huge, enormous ideas going forward. No. This is personal stuff.”
It was quiet on the phone for a moment, and when August spoke, his voice was small, “Please don’t tell me you’re sick.”
“No! Oh, God, no. August, no, I’m fine. Perfectly healthy.” I heard him release a breath on the other end of the connection. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done it that way. Yikes, I suck at this. August, I’m gay.”
“Oh.” He paused. “You are?”
