Chapter 4
Four
Lucas
W alking up the steps to my house, another day of draining and unfulfilling work so heavy on my body that it feels like it’s dragging me down, I tell myself this is the last year. Even if I don’t make the program at Oxford, I won’t be here. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve never been more miserable.
After unlocking the front door, I slip inside and drop my bag on the bench at the entrance. My mind is so preoccupied that I almost don’t notice that something feels off. Instead, I mindlessly pull off my shoes, sliding them neatly into their place. My keys go into the dish on the table.
I’m two steps into the house when I freeze. Turning back, I stare at the weathered brown boots discarded by the door.
“You’re out of milk.”
My heart nearly flies out of my chest as I spin to stare at the man in my kitchen, leaning against the island with a bowl of cereal in his hand. He lifts a spoon to his mouth and crunches on the dry flakes with a smirk on his face.
“Jesus, Isaac. You scared the shit out of me!” I bark, clutching my chest. My heart is hammering against my rib cage as I wait for my blood pressure to return to normal.
“Sorry.” My brother laughs. “I would have called, but this was more fun.”
I roll my eyes as I walk farther into my house. “I don’t drink milk. And that cereal has been in my pantry since you bought it six—no, seven—months ago.”
“It’s still good,” he mumbles around the food in his mouth.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, going to the fridge for a sparkling water. “I thought you were going to stay in Nashville with that teacher.”
He shrugs. His now brown hair is wet, so he must have already showered. I’m willing to bet his bedroom is already in disarray, too. It usually takes him less than an hour to make a mess of it when he comes home.
“Things didn’t work out with him. Or the bartender,” he replies, setting the cereal down.
“There was a bartender?” I ask, leaning my back against the refrigerator.
He picks up a handful of his cereal and tosses it at me. “Don’t slut-shame me.”
When I hear the sugary flakes landing on the floor, I give him a terse glare. “You’re cleaning that up.”
He tries to act rebellious, staring at me as if he’s not going to do what I just said. Finally, with a huff, he goes into the laundry room and comes back out a moment later with the broom.
At the sink, I rinse his dirty dishes and lather up the sponge with soap.
“That’s your problem, Isaac,” I say over the sound. “You need to grow up. Stop acting like such a kid all the time.”
He groans with frustration. “And that’s your problem, Luke. You grew up too fast. You’re no fun, and you take everything too seriously. No one is ever going to want to settle down with you. You’re impossible to live with.”
“And yet, you keep coming back,” I say over my shoulder. “ Besides,” I add. “I had to grow up fast because someone had to take care of your immature ass.”
“Oh please,” he argues. “You were already an uptight bore by the time I left home. So don’t blame your lameness on me.”
“You should be thankful I’m such an uptight bore. Who else would have taken you in when you decided to run away at seventeen?” I bark in return. “And for your information, I have no interest in settling down with anyone anyway, so I’m perfectly content being impossible to live with.”
“God, how do you walk around all day with that stick so far up your ass?” he shouts as he dumps the dustpan full of cereal into the trash.
“Alone. That’s how I do it,” I shout back.
He huffs as he walks toward the laundry room to put the broom back where it belongs. When he doesn’t argue back, I smile to myself. Not because I won this argument or because I’m right and he’s wrong, but because it is kind of nice having Isaac back. I missed these little arguments.
Of course, in true brotherly fashion, the fights aren’t real. We’re not really mad at each other. Not mad like Adam was when he found out Caleb took a meeting with our bastard of a father. Not mad like I’m sure both of them would be at me if they found out I’ve been caring for our “estranged” brother since the day he disappeared ten years ago.
“You hungry?” he asks nonchalantly as he returns to the kitchen. “I’m thinking about ordering Thai.”
“Thai sounds good,” I reply as I set the cereal bowl on the drying rack before using a paper towel to dry the stainless steel sink.
While we’re waiting for the food delivery, I retreat into my bedroom and change into a pair of joggers and a T-shirt. A run to clear my mind is exactly what I need. I only get about two and a half miles on the treadmill before the front door buzzes and the scent of spicy tofu and noodles wafts into my room.
Isaac is sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone and eating with a pair of chopsticks when I finally come out. I glare at him because he knows how I feel about food in the living room, but he slurps a noodle instead of apologizing or offering to move. When I take a seat at the table, though, he eventually joins me.
We eat in silence for a bit, each of us staring at our devices. Finally, I look up and ask, “How long are you staying this time?”
Normally, he’ll respond with something funny or casual. But this time, I notice he tenses.
“Just a few days,” he mumbles without looking up.
“Going back to Nashville?” I ask.
He clears his throat. “No.”
I don’t pick up another bite of food as I stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
“I didn’t renew my lease at my apartment there,” he says as he finally meets my gaze.
“Is everything okay?”
Once Isaac became more focused on his career, I moved back to Austin for work. He was uncomfortable with living here again, so he kept a place in Nashville to escape to. For the past few years, I’ve been helping Isaac afford it while he worked to get his music career off the ground. He used to come home every month, but with time, his returns became less and less frequent.
Since he built his following online and went on tour, he’s had enough money to cover the apartment himself. But if he hasn’t renewed his lease, that must mean…
“I signed with a label.”
The words fly out of his mouth so fast it takes me a moment to register what he’s saying.
“Wait…what?”
“They’re not based in Nashville, though. They’re based in Austin.”
I shake my head in confusion. “Whoa. Slow down. You signed a deal with a record label?”
“Yeah. ”
I drop my chopsticks and nearly bolt out of my seat. “Isaac!” I shout.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?”
“Don’t make a big deal?” I echo in astonishment. He’s been trying to secure a publishing deal since he was seventeen. We must have sent out a thousand demo tapes that first year he came to live with me in New York.
“And they’re here in Austin?” I add with a grin. “This is amazing!”
“Is it?” he asks with a wince.
“What are you talking about? It’s perfect. You can stay here and save up for your own place?—”
“Actually…I’m moving out.”
It’s like his words slice through mine. Or right through me .
“You don’t…have to…” I stammer as my mood begins to settle from elation to anxiety. “I can take care of you. I’ll sign on for another year at Austin State.”
Any plans to leave Austin seem like a pipe dream now. If Isaac is staying, he needs me, and I’ll stay.
“They’re putting me up in my own apartment.”
“Why do you look so upset about that?”
He shrugs. “Because I think you like having me around. If I’m gone, what are you going to do?”
When I laugh, I admit it feels forced. “I’ll have you know, I could be moving to England next year, so, uh…this is…perfect.”
Pressing his lips together, he’s giving me a look like maybe he’s not buying it. And yeah, maybe I am tamping down the rising feeling of discomfort at the idea that Isaac won’t need me anymore. He won’t show up out of the blue in need of laundry or money or guidance. He won’t have a safe place to land when he gets tired of the world.
He is twenty-seven now. Did I really think he’d have a room here forever?
“Of course I like having you around,” I add under my breath. The more I speak, the harder it is to hold back my emotions. Squeezing my molars together, I struggle to keep myself in check. “But I’m proud of you.”
Looking up at me, his mouth lifts in a crooked smile. “Awww…” he teases. “You love me.”
Rolling my eyes, I stand from the table. “Grow up.”
“You can say it, Lucas. You love me, and you’ll miss having me around.”
As I set my food container on the kitchen island, I glance over at my little brother. He’s grinning up at me like a fool, and I simply shake my head. Sometimes I feel bad that I got so much time with Isaac that my other brothers didn’t get.
I’ve never asked Isaac if he’s been in contact with our brothers. He talks to Mom, and that’s all I need to know. Part of me suspects Adam or Caleb have reached out or found him, but that’s not up to me.
Growing up, Caleb and Adam were stuck in their own ignorance to be any good for Isaac. They never meant our little brother any harm, but I was the only one standing up to the miserable bigot that is our father. Caleb was too busy looking out for me and Adam was following in the old man’s footsteps.
And yet, getting to watch Isaac grow up has felt like a privilege I don’t deserve.
At least he had someone. At least Isaac got to keep one brother. Even if it is the lame, boring, uptight, no-fun brother.
Even if it is all about to come to an end.
But if the one person I’ve focused on caring for doesn’t need me anymore, what the hell am I going to do now?