“I know. I scare myself sometimes.”
There was less than six feet between them, but it felt like a gorge when Tripp looked over at his brother, who refused to look at anything but the sky, even when the cart with their meal on it was wheeled out to them.
“Do you even know why you do some of the things you do?” Tripp asked as he stood and retrieved their plates.
“Nope.”
He popped the ‘p’ when he said it, like it was all a joke, which left Tripp bristling for a moment, until he remembered the yogi’s instructions to inhale, exhale and pause. That pause was something he needed before he snapped and said something he shouldn’t, especially not when his twin was having a civil conversation with him.
“And it doesn’t bother you that there is no rhyme or reason for the things you do?” Tripp said at last, trying to leave it like an open-ended question.
“I didn’t say that.”
“So, it does bother you?”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“You’re not saying much of anything.”
“Been waiting for you to finish.”
“Oh.”
“I want you to get everything off your chest that you need to so we can leave it all here at the end of the month,” Winter said, accepting the plate and bottled juice Tripp passed him.
“There’s nothing more to say,” Tripp said as he retrieved his own and sat down across from his brother.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m starting to realize that the reason I’ve spent so much time focused on you and what you’ve been doing is that I’ve never had anything going on in my life besides the music. That’s not your fault. It’s mine and sometimes, I feel like I’ve been critical of you and your choices because I was jealous.”
“Shouldn’t it be the other way around.”
“How do you figure?”
Winter took his time cutting the first bite of his pancake before he answered. Steam wafted up from the hole he’d made, a view of the inside of his pancake revealing chunks or real strawberries. “You always know the right thing to say and do. Meanwhile, I’m standing there looking like an asshole because I blurted out the first thing that came to mind and accidently offended someone. Remember our first tour of Japan?”
Tripp did remember that, and the multitude of faux pas Winter had made, many of which landed in the dirt rags, along with his photo engaging in seemingly minor things like eating a sandwich as he walked down the street, pointing excitedly at something that caught his attention, constantly refilling his empty teacup but not anyone else’s, and visibly showing off all his tattoos while relaxing in a public bath. He’d been asked to leave the establishment over that, and protested, not understanding that it was a cultural norm there to keep tattoos covered in such spaces. Then there had been the tipping issue, which Winter had done several times before it was pointed out to him that it was considered rude to tip in Japan, where a tip could be taken as a suggestion that you felt the establishment wasn’t prosperous.
You only pay what you owe here.Tripp remembered telling him.
But that was a huge meal we ordered. Look at all the trips the server made back and forth to our table.
Yes, and they are paid properly for that, unlike back home, where they don’t even make minimum wage. Just, stop doing it.
He’d snapped that last part at his brother, his impatience with Winter shining through even then.
“You learned from it though,” Tripp pointed out after swallowing a mouth full of his pancake. With whipped cream dotting the top it tasted more like strawberry shortcake, which was perfect as far as he was concerned. “You never traveled anywhere else without researching the customs first.”
“Which I should have done then, like you did.”
Tripp sat his fork down with a clank. “We need to stop comparing ourselves to each other. We’re twins, but we’re different people too. I need to do a better job of remembering that.”
Winter flashed him the ghost of a smile, the look of relief in his eyes evident. “You were my best friend once. I hope we can get back to that place someday. I know I have to do better about certain things, but I can only say that I’ll try, and I’ll probably fail a couple times before I get it right. I’m going to apologize in advance and make you a promise.”
“Okay. Let’s hear it.”
“While I’m on the road with Wild Child, even though we are touring together, I will be responsible for anything and everything I get into. Good or bad. I don’t want you to comment or try to answer questions for me or try and smooth anything over. I’m going to do it. All of it. It’s gotten too easy for me to rely on you to clean up my messes. I literally step back into the shadows after I fuck up and leave you to handle the fallout. That shit ain’t cool. I know, in the past, I’ve told you to leave shit be and you’ve gone and handled it anyway.”