“Too loud?” he asked that time when he caught me lying there staring at him from the pillow beside him.
I shook my head and closed my eyes again.
We spent all of Sunday in bed, me drifting in and out, until he wakes me at seven at night to ask me to eat something.
He wakes me by kissing my eyelids.
“I don’t want food.”
“What about dessert?”
Hm.
“Okay. What?’
“I’ll see what we’ve got.”
“Pudding. Fancy pudding.”
He leans over and drops a kiss on my lips.
“You want some fancy shit-brand pudding?”
“Yeah.”
A few minutes later, he’s back.
“Fancy shit-brand pudding sundaes.”
I sit up.
He’s layered pudding, bananas, whipped cream, and M&M candies. And he’s topped it off with an Oreo cookie instead of a cherry.
It’s the best shit-brand pudding sundae I’ve ever eaten.
When I’m done, he pulls me close and I watch four or five hours of renovation TV shows until I fall asleep again.
Before I fall asleep, I finally let my brain wander to the fact that he read the whole smut file. I wrote about us moving to California. About him taking me on his boat. I wrote about not just erotic sex games and him being bossy and me doing whatever he wanted me to do, I got to a point in the story where I mulled over a special dinner we were about to have and in the story, I’d pondered whether or not he was about to propose. And that’s where I stopped writing.
My face heats in memory.
He read all that and he’s not running. He’s doing the opposite of running.
The way he behaved just days ago had me thinking he’d be the type to go running at the first sign of a crisis that I couldn’t handle on my own. That he wanted nothing but uncomplicated sex games.
Instead, he’s here for me, being everything I’d want if I picked someone to be my person in a crisis.
But, I don’t think I’m going to be happy-go-lucky overnight. I can’t even begin to know how it’s going to feel to go tomorrow and make funeral arrangements and then break it to Shane that our father is gone, that our mother is also gone and has been gone for so long. And that Dad kept it from us.
How long before he gets tired of this crisis? And is he only here because he feels guilty about what I’m going through?
***
In my conversation with Shane’s doctor, a female doctor who has put my mind at ease about my brother finally getting the right care, she tells me I should be honest with Shane. Only by letting him deal will he be able to learn coping methods for his emotions.
She tells me he’s already showing signs of improvement after just a few days there in a new environment, on a new medication regimen. It’s progress. He’s no longer despondent. He’s emotional. And she says that’s a good sign.
She takes me through the place, a place that looks like a hospital from outside but that feels more like a residence inside with a huge dining room, with television and game room, exercise room, even a library. We find him in a TV room with a few other people. They’re all dressed in regular clothes and the room has games, puzzles, and some people are reading books or playing cards. She tells me they have massage therapists, visiting hair stylists, and are set up with a more spa-like environment without an emphasis on pampering but more on self-care with a helping hand.
Shane is playing Chess with a pretty girl in her mid to late twenties. He’s wearing jeans and a hoodie as well as tennis shoes that I’ve never seen. It dawns he has no regular clothes with him; I should get his stuff to him.
Shane’s eyes bounce up and he spots me.
This place is a lot better than I’d have expected, especially given what my brother being is in jail for.
Dr. Lexington told me there’s a good chance Shane will get approved to spend a few months here and then go onto probation with very stringent rules about drug use and staying on his prescribed regimen. He could thrive here; I can see it.
She’s working with his lawyer and the prosecutor, and they’re talking about coming to a deal after an assessment at his thirty-day mark. She says her superiors will analyze his progress and make recommendations to the court for review. She told me he’ll probably be here at least six months getting intensive counseling for his emotional issues as well as his substance abuse before he can leave, but that after four months he might be able to have weekend passes to visit with me, though drug and alcohol testing for when he comes back. He must stay 100% clean. He has to participate. His participation and progress are essential or his deal can be revoked. His first group therapy session happens tomorrow.