Chapter Twenty-Two
Cris
The eldest of my three younger brothers is sitting at the head of the kitchen table, his hand wrapped around a bottle of beer. Manuel has been trying to pin me down for over a week, but I’ve been busy doing…well, Benji, quite frankly.
Finally, Manuel and I carved out time to have dinner together. It involved me leaving work instead of going on a run with my boss, but Benji understood. I came home and cooked a simple dinner of macaroni and cheese and tuna steaks. I also steamed a large side of broccoli both Manuel and I ignored.
“I love you,” my brother tells me.
“I love you too,” I respond brightly. I suspect that’s not the end of his sentence. I’m not sure I want to hear the rest of it. Regardless, I prompt, “But?”
“No but, Cris. I love you. You’re my sister. Half-sister, but you know that shit doesn’t matter to me.”
It doesn’t matter to me either. Not that his skin is darker than mine or his father is crazy wealthy or Manuel has the worst habit of leaving his socks scattered through the house. When he lived here, anyway. I miss him.
“It threw me seeing Benji kiss you.” He makes a face like he ate a stalk of disregarded broccoli.
“I know.” I try not to cringe, but I’m not sure I’m successful. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him.”
I nod. That’s true. I have always spent a lot of time with him, but it’s been more than usual lately. Since Manuel has been visiting me more often, he’s noticed when I’m not here.
“I didn’t intend for you to know,” I tell him. “I’ve always tried my best to set a better example for you and Dennis and Timothy than Mom did. Which is why I haven’t dated much. Like you needed one more woman bringing men into your life and then taking them out again.”
It wasn’t lost on me that the boys suffered, if not more than I did, through each of those transitions. I tried to help them withstand the blow, but I also knew my limits.
He leans forward on his chair. His fingers curl around mine and gently squeeze. “You’re not Mom. Will you let me finish what I have to say?”
I nod, making a motion like I’m zipping my lips.
“I’m happy for you.” He grins. Big, bold, and so unexpected.
“You are?” My shoulders drop a few inches.
“Yes,” he says patiently. “You sacrificed your twenties for Dennis, Timothy, and me—”
“It wasn’t a sacrifice.”
“Cris.”
“Sorry.” I press my lips together again.
“I’m twenty-four and I can’t imagine taking care of three kids while trying to work and have a personal life.” He shakes his head. “I took you for granted when I was younger. Den and Tim still take you for granted, but they’ll come around. I’ll see to it. What I’m saying is you deserve some time for yourself to worry about yourself instead of worrying about everyone else.”
“That’s what Benji keeps telling me.”
My brother nods, so young and yet so wise already. Tears threaten as pride engulfs my being, but I stamp it down.
“Benji’s smart,” he says, serious once again. “Worrying about her kids was supposed to be our mother’s job. And our fathers’ jobs. There should be more people dedicated to the survival of our little family than the four of us.”
Ain’t it the truth. My nose tingles as emotion surges up my throat.
He lets out a sigh and sits back in the chair once again. “She called me.”
“Mom?” She rarely calls anyone.
“Yeah.”