“Wow. I can’t remember the last time I talked to her. It was a holiday, I think, but not a big one. Labor Day or something.” I shake my head, figuring it doesn’t matter. “What did she want?”
“To tell me she and Todd have been married for a year and it’s going to last. And…” He takes a very deep breath. “She’s pregnant.”
“What?” My voice is a desolate whisper. While she is mathematically able to be pregnant, she’s nowhere near emotionally capable of dealing with a baby.
“My first question was who is raising it,” Manuel says.
“Did you ask?”
“Yep. She said she was, then made excuses about how and why she moved to Vegas. She swore she loved me, loved all of us, and promised her having this baby won’t take away from the love she has for her other children.” Arms dangling at his sides, he sits back in the kitchen chair and regards me dubiously.
It’s the same chair Benji repaired after he came over for fajitas not so long ago. He drilled a screw into the leg and voila, the frame didn’t wobble anymore.
“Can you believe that shit?” Manuel says, bringing my attention back to the news I didn’t want to hear. “I want to understand her, but in so many ways she’s a stranger.”
“I know, honey.” Guilt pierces my heart. I tried to make up for her absence. I tried to involve my brothers’ dads and their extended family members as much as possible. Other than a random visit from an aunt here or a cousin there, everyone seemed content to leave us on our own. “I tried to make your lives as normal as possible.”
“Our childhoods were not normal.”
I wring my hands. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head. The smile he gives me is amused. “This is what I’m talking about. You need to stop worrying about what you could have done better, or what you’re doing now.” There is a pause before he says, “You’re seeing Benji.”
I give him a pained smile. “I am.”
“And he’s making you happy.”
“He is.”
“For the first time in your life you’re doing what you want regardless of what anyone thinks. Enjoy it.”
My shoulders sag further. Not from relief this time, but from more guilt. Manuel believes Benji and I are in love. My brother knows me, and he knows I vowed over and over again to never be like our mother. I will get married once. Monogamy, I’ve said on numerous occasions, many of them while I was vocal about how Mom had let us down, is my middle name.
“Benji is a good guy,” Manuel continues. “And he has money, which isn’t the end-all, be-all, but it’s better than you dating a broke dude.”
I laugh.
“I hope it works out. Seriously. Stop hiding or trying to act like you’re not happy.” He slaps my knee. “Lighten up. Life is good.”
My smile is brittle. I can’t tell him the truth. That my relationship with Benji is as temporary as one of my mother’s many husbands. I suppose it’s possible the odds are in her favor this time. Maybe this Todd guy is cool and excited about having a baby, in spite of having it with a woman who abandoned four of her children already. I somehow doubt it.
“I’m going to mow the lawn while I’m here.” My brother stands. “And do the dishes.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I know.” He chucks his empty beer bottle into the recycling bin. “But you have a boyfriend now, so you don’t have time to do as much around here.”
“I was planning on hanging out with you, not putting you to work.” Plus he’s not my boyfriend, I mentally tack on.
“You also said you had ‘a million’ errands to run and had no idea when you’d run them. How about now? I’m giving you the night off. I owe you a few.”
I’m moved by the offer and so proud I could burst. All my efforts to help my brothers become good humans are paying off. They’re not perfect, but they’re trying. What more could I ask for? Rather than be mushy and possibly discourage any further heart-to-hearts with the eldest of my younger brothers, I slip into parent mode. “If you have a second beer, no driving.”
“Yes, Momma Cris.” He bends and puts a smacking kiss on my forehead. “Where’s your list of shit that needs fixing? Wasn’t there a leak in the roof?”
“You’re not climbing on top of this roof without supervision,” I tell him curtly.
“I am a grown man.”