22. Foster
FOSTER
“The doorman said I could let myself in,” my brother announces as he enters my living room. I called Patrick to come over when Sutton left.
I’ve been staring out my window at the night skyline of Chicago while nursing a whiskey.
Alcohol won’t calm my troubles, unfortunately.
My back is to him, but I can see his reflection in the window. He isn’t cocky; indifference is written all over his face.
“What the fuck did you do?” Hopefully, my tone conveys the fury I feel.
“Ah, putting the blame on me?” He saunters farther into the room. “I’m not the one who fucked up for once,” he taunts.
Pivoting on my feet, I stare at him directly; my gaze could cut through him.
“No. You’re the one who was insistent on explaining to my thirty-two-week-pregnant wife the detail I missed.
I messed up, but you could have told me to tell her, or I don’t know…
” I’m beyond frustrated. “But I have a strong inkling that you didn’t exactly deliver the news unintentionally or delicately.
Let me guess, you decided to take a swing so I could have a moment of downfall? ”
His wry grin seems bitter today. “An opportunity arose, right?” he replies mockingly.
“She’s thirty-two weeks pregnant,” I reiterate.
“Foster, take some damn responsibility for once. Not everything goes the way you want with the snap of your fingers.” He has the gall to be irritated with me.
We are in a standoff in the middle of the living room, and it feels like we’re about to fall down a mountain.
“The whole point of not telling her was to minimize her stress. That plan went to shit. Thank you for that,” I say sarcastically.
Walking to the wall with the built-in cabinet where I have a whiskey bottle open next to crystal tumblers, I pop the bottle's cork to pour myself another drink. “I would offer you a drink, but I’m not sure you’ll be staying that long.
Kick me when I’m down and leave with a win, right? That’s your play all the time.”
He scoffs. “Unbelievable. For once, assess the full picture and lay down all the facts.”
Turning to him, I walk and perch on the arm of a sofa, causing my brother to stand over me while he remains in the middle of the room.
“I wouldn’t even be in this situation if everyone in the family had let me be. Let me live my life, not involve myself in some damn game to keep a company. Guilt-tripping me has been a pleasant ride, too.”
“Imagine that. Our mom loved you so much that she had to put it into writing and blackmail you to make sure it happened.”
I hold my glass in the air and raise my voice from pure annoyance. “You’ve reminded me a few times. What was it? Oh yeah, just put a pin in the condoms, for all you care. Even when I don’t do something so fucked up, I now have a wife who has ideas in her head thanks to you.”
Patrick throws his hands in the air. “The blame game is getting real old, and if you can’t figure out why I’m acting like the bad guy, then you sure as hell are not as smart as we all think you are.”
“Enlighten me.”
“You get everything, Foster. That fucking stings. There is a theory, you know. People are at their worst when they envy something.” His words cause my neck to crane as they take me off guard.
“Do you know how jealous I am of the life you get? The career you wanted, the wife, the kid, the apple of our parents’ eye. You’re lucky.”
“Are you saying that all of your asshole tendencies are because you’re jealous?”
His eyes bug out. “Don’t make me say it again.”
“Your coping method needs improvement. I’m sorry you hit a rough patch, and at times, I think you’re turning your life around and are in a better place. You’re my brother, and I don’t take that for granted. But holy hell, my wife is now unraveling, and she is my priority.”
“Just don’t put it all on me… but fair enough.” His voice softens. “She got caught in the crossfire. I didn’t mean to upset her.”
Shaking my head, a sympathetic nerve is hit. “You don’t need to see me as competition or be jealous. Just don’t be the one who stirs up my life. Look, the company remains with us; it’s your show to run. I want nothing to do with it. You can have it.”
He sighs and walks to deposit himself onto the couch. “That’s great… but you do realize watching you create your own family kind of adds to the list of things you have that I wish I did too. You make it seem so easy to have, as though you didn’t even need to blink.”
“It’s not so simple. Sutton and I don’t do many things by the book.”
“Except for an honorable shotgun wedding,” he attempts to joke, and for once it isn’t a jab.
Setting my glass down on the side table, it causes a scraped clink against the glass. “The way we do things makes sense to us.”
“Then maybe you will find a way to make it sensible,” he says like he’s actually encouraging me.
I even have to narrow my eyes on him, checking if this is a trick, but it’s not. “I won’t allow any other choice.” I’m determined to make that true.
He nods gingerly. “Good. I would kind of like Thanksgiving to not be so awkward,” he quips.
I barely smile. “The baby will be a new page for all of us, I guess.”
“My whole ride over here, I debated if I should be an ass who takes pleasure in your current meltdown or actually be honest. But even I’m not that evil.
Your wife is upset, she’s pregnant, and you have fatherhood ahead of you.
I see the way Dad is with us. You may be his favorite, but he still treats me like a son.
Since you have his genes, you probably have the same skill to deal with me, too.
So I chose the calm and honest route. I might have tipped Sutton over the edge, but at the end of the day, you didn’t tell her.
Put the blame on me, but that’s the easy way.
For once, you don’t get to take that route,” he explains sincerely.
This is my life today. Confrontations on all fronts.
“You’re right.”
“I can be.” Now that smug grin of his makes an appearance.
“Promise that no matter what you feel about me or what is happening, just leave my wife alone,” I plead.
He pins his eyes to me for a long beat. “Okay.”
Our gaze holds for a long beat, then we give one another a curt understanding nod. My focus is on Sutton, but even I notice that this conversation might be a new stepping stone for us.
At least I don’t have to deal with him anymore this weekend. I’ll even turn a new leaf.
But as much as brotherly bonds run strong, the connection with Sutton runs deeper.
Wallowing for a little longer, I have to call it a day.
I'm giving Sutton the breather she asked for, but tomorrow, I'm driving out to Everhope because I’m not going to let the strain between us last long.
Maybe she can't forgive me. Then I'll grovel.
Maybe she can move on with us. Then I’ll never make such a profound mistake again.
Either way, our lives are entwined more than ever.
Walking down the hall to our bedroom, the closed door to the nursery taunts me.
Sometimes small secrets are the best surprises. But those ones were never intended to be secrets for long.
However, right now, I can't bear anything hidden between us.
I wrap my hand around the handle of the door, hesitating. This was her project. But I need something to hope for right now.
Turning the knob, I switch on the lights, and my heart melts, desperately wanting to hold on to Sutton and never let her go. I’ll shackle her if I must.
Because the room is light blue and beige, everything is perfectly set up except for a few boxes of clothes in the corner. It also clicks why she was talking to my dad at his birthday party.
She asked for the model planes I made with him when I was a kid. I mentioned it once. Sutton, with her full heart, has now hung them in the nursery.
Because she knows how to fill my soul.