Page 13 of The Wrong Sister
I raise my hand towards her and say quietly, to no one in particular, “I’m going to head home and shower. This sand is starting to itch.”
I let myself out and don’t stop jogging until I get to my door. Once inside I go straight to the bathroom, stripping off my sandy suit and t-shirt. Seeing them in a dirty pile makes me feel guilty for sitting on Mina’s couch in them, which makes me think of Mina again, which makes me spiral more. I stand under the spray, not waiting for it to warm up. My thoughts are swirling and it’s all making me angry. I feel like I don’t have a handle on myself, on my own life. I’ve never struggled to do what is right and I’ve never had any problems abiding by my values. It hasn’t escaped my notice that my issues have arisen with the reappearance of Mina in my life. Before Mina, everything with Catherine was easy and natural and progressing on schedule. Before Mina, I could easily accept the direction my life was supposed to be headed. Before Mina, I didn’t struggle, at all, to remain steady and reliable. It seems to me that the obvious solution is to keep my distance from her. It’s already been established that she’s not the right one for me. She’s too wild, too spontaneous, too passionate. I’ve always avoided that kind of woman, avoided those things full stop. It’s all too much for my small, tidy life.
I’m not the guy that thinks about another woman while I’m on a date. I’m not the guy that gets jealous and suspicious of his own brother’s relationships. I don’t want to be that guy. Remembering the feel of Mina’s full, round tits in my hands has me hard again, but I refuse to seek release thinking of her. I amnotthat guy. I finish showering and dry off, uncomfortable and annoyed, padding to my bedroom to get dressed.
I’m the guy that does the right thing, the trustworthy guy, the guy that does what is expected of him. I know all too well what happens when I try to shake free from those expectations. I don’t need life to throw a new reminder of the expectations on me. I need to get my head on straight and talk to Catherine. Above all else, I need to stay away from Mina.
10
mina
I come back from putting on my new record, an album Griffin seemed to be interested in, and he’s gone. I’m not sure what happened, but I’m going to assume it’s the same shit that’s been happening a lot lately. His loss. Raff has the coffee brewing and Catherine offers to walk over to Arvo and bring back breakfast. I excuse myself to take a quick shower while she’s gone.
I’m thinking about Griffin as I shower, rinsing off the leftover sand and the salt that has dried onto my skin. Running into him was electric. I was going to tell him to make himself comfortable while I rinsed off, but somehow ended up with his hands on my boobs! I don’t even get how it happened, but I wanted more. I would have been embarrassed, maybe, except I saw his expression. He wanted me. Desire poured from his eyes and he was turned on. Again! Maybe, just maybe, he could be into me. I’m not going to try to make a move on someone my sister is dating. Or whatever it is they’re doing. I love Catherine and I’m not like that! I am a patient woman, though. I can wait until they both figure out that they’re not into each other. And it’s obvious by their behavior that they’re not. I can wait and see if there’s any world in which he would have all the options available and still choose me. Stupid or not, there’s a tiny glimmer of hope. In the meantime, I can talk to her about it. Feel her out. See where she’s at in all of this.
Clean and dressed, I enter the kitchen at the same time that Catherine is coming in with our breakfast.
“I got them loaded, I hope that’s ok! I cannot say ‘no’ to a poached egg. If that’s a flaw, I’m fine with it,” she jokes.
“Up high, Empress!” Rafferty gives Catherine a high five. “Poached eggs are the shit.” He smiles at her and Catherine blushes, a light wash of pink rising under her freckles. She’s been doing that a lot lately—blushing. I hope social anxiety hasn’t cropped up again. It’s been a while since that has bothered her. Shit, that probably means I haven’t been paying close enough attention or been too caught up in my own stuff. I need to be a better sister!
Rafferty grabs the boxes out of her arms and takes them to my little table. “I had to press another pot, Mina. I hope that’s ok. It doesn’t really make enough.” I carry over the two mugs Rafferty filled, pour myself one, and sit across from them.
“Good call on the fully loaded avocado toast, Catherine. This hits the spot!” I dig in, not minding the oozing yolk one bit. The arugula is peppery, the egg is still warm and red pepper flakes add just the right amount of heat. I don’t care how bougie it is, I love fancy toast. “What do you have going on today, Raff?”
“I had a group cancellation so I surfed this morning and I was going to hang around Kaka‘ako until I have to meet a client not far from Catherine’s condo for a session this afternoon.”
“You should spend the day with us then,” I say.
Catherine looks up from her breakfast abruptly. I’d almost say she looks worried. “Right. Of course. You should.” She continues between dainty bites, “We’re going to my place. We haven’t made definite plans beyond being together, but you’re more than welcome to come and you can shower at mine if you want.”
I nod in agreement, eating my toast enthusiastically, far less prettily than Catherine.
“Sweet! A cozy hang with the Brookner sisters? I’m in.”
We clean up quickly and walk together. It’s less than a mile and the guest parking at Catherine’s building is annoying. My phone rings as we’re approaching her building. I signal to Catherine that I need to take it and drop back behind, following but walking more slowly.
“Mina Brookner.”
It’s my contact with HPD. I have cross-training in Emergency Response in Child Abuse and Neglect. My stomach tightens and I can feel the spike of adrenaline hit as he fills me in. Fucking garbage adults.
“I can be there in less than 15 minutes.”
I hang up as we enter Catherine’s condo, she and Rafferty both looking at me expectantly.
“Sorry guys, I’ve gotta run to the ER at Kapiolani. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, I don’t have a lot of details on the case, but I’ll come back here as soon as I’m done.”
Catherine pulls me into a hug. She has such a tender heart and worries about me and my “kids” when I’m at work. I whisper a thank you as I’m kissing her cheek, squeeze Raff’s forearm, and run out the door. And then I immediately have to run back in.
“Shit! Catherine, we walked here!” She tosses me the keys to her car and I leave for real.
It’s a hard afternoon. A neighbor called the police and an ambulance after he saw the little girl land at the bottom of the stairs. She needed to be seen—her arm is broken in three places—but once she got to the ER they noticed clear signs of abuse and neglect. I’ve spent the last few hours in the ER, with the HPD officer who was called in. Her injuries have been photographed and she’s being moved to a private room. She’s malnourished, dehydrated, and covered in bruises. I did my best with the initial interview but I’ve got to call in a child psychologist. She’s going to need a light, professional touch—someone who is trained to help her in the way she’ll need in the coming months. Situations like this is when my job is vital but it’s also when my job is the hardest. It makes me burn up with anger. How does someone carry a child in their body then treat them so shamefully?
I get back to Catherine’s almost four hours later, emotionally drained and exhausted. I feel like I’m dragging myself through the door. The vibe is very weird. Catherine and Rafferty are sitting on opposite sides of her couch. Catherine looks stiff and awkward, but Raff looks almost smug. He sees me first and that expression drops from his face. He’s up from his seat and over at the door before I’ve dropped my bag in the entryway. He scoops me up in a hug, wrapping me in his strong arms and lifting me off of the floor.
“You look dead on your feet, Teeny. What can I get you? Coffee? A snack?”
“Maybe a seat would be good, Raff.” He doesn’t put me down though, he keeps holding me up and walks over to the sofa, placing me next to Catherine. “But also coffee would be nice, now that I think about it. I could use the caffeine.” Catherine pulls my head down into her lap, stroking my hair with one hand and clasping my hand in her other. She’s the only person I’d allow to baby me like this. It’s nice, truth be told.
