Chapter 12
“Here we go,” Izaac mutters, and it feels like he’s gearing up for battle after Audra has a quick exchange with another bartender, then comes around the bar, headed our way.
It occurs to me now—way too late—that I don’t know all the details of what has been going on between Izaac and his sister.
We asked so many questions about Audra’s decision and their parents’ reaction in the spring, and we know Izaac has been dealing with the fallout with his parents’ fighting, but until yesterday there wasn’t much discussion about the relationship between brother and sister.
Plus, I’ve been so wrapped up in my own family drama, and the holidays, and the future of it all…
Now not only do I feel bad for not asking more questions and giving Izaac the space to talk, but I’m totally unprepared to witness this reunion—which may not be nearly as happy as I envisioned.
“Z? What are you doing here?” Audra asks, her voice low. Izaac has at least five inches on her, but she’s three years older and has serious presence, even in a T-shirt. She looks at him and then around the bar, before her eyes land on me.
“Hey, Bennie,” she says, her demeanor warming slightly.
“Hey, Audra,” I reply as brightly as I can. But now I wish I could disappear, just dissolve like a candy cane in hot cocoa.
“Well, it’s nice to see you, too,” Izaac replies.
“I mean, of course it’s nice to see you—both of you,” Audra says. “But ya know, a little surprising, Z.”
“Well, I’m a little surprised too,” he says. “We stopped by your apartment—or I guess, your old apartment—and you weren’t there.”
“Izaac, what are you doing chasing me around Brooklyn the weekend before Christmas, on the day of a massive blizzard?” she asks, then pauses and adds, “Wait, did they send you? Because if this is some mission to convince me to go back to school—”
“What? Who?” Izaac asks, before the answer dawns on him. “Mom and Dad?” Now he gives a dry laugh and looks actually offended. “No, Audra, Mom and Dad did not send me. And if their relentless fighting is any indication, I’m pretty sure they don’t actually remember I exist.”
Now there’s an awkward silence, and Audra purses her lips, looking remorseful.
“Shit, Z,” she says, and her shoulders drop. “I’m sorry. They never change, do they…”
It’s not a question, so Izaac doesn’t try to answer.
Audra looks at her watch, then back at the bar, where a man who is maybe her boss is shelving glassware with one eye on Audra. She’s obviously in the middle of her shift, and having an argument with random customers is probably not a good look.
“Listen, I’m due for a break. Can you hang for a second?” she asks.
“Not long,” Izaac says, still looking like a stone wall.
“We have a few minutes,” I amend.
Izaac shoots me a look but doesn’t object. Maybe I’m meddling, but it’s the truth, and we’ve come all the way here. Deep down, Izaac misses Audra. And just yesterday he expressly told me that he could use her help… I can’t let him walk away too proud to ask and then regret it later.
“Thanks, Bennie. Have a seat and I’ll join you in a minute—just going to let my boy know.” She points to a corner high-top table beneath one of the TV screens. “I’ll grab us drinks too. Coffee for Izaac, I know. Bennie? Hot cocoa? Best in Brooklyn right here.”
Audra smiles now. She’s just like Izaac that way, attentive to everyone’s needs. She probably makes a great bartender.
“Actually, I’ll go for the, uh, matcha,” I say, after a quick scan of the menu board.
“O kay , I see you!” she says, and pulls an impressed face. I like this version of me who’s capable of being a little unpredictable. Maybe it’s the same one who can have a solo meal at the bar.
“You know that’s like literal grass, right?” Izaac says skeptically.
“Well, I’m not sure you know this, Izaac Evans, but new things can be good sometimes…” I look pointedly in Audra’s direction.
“Nice try.”
A few minutes later, we’re sitting at a table with Audra, and there’s a Grinch-green drink in front of me that I’m not sure I’m ready to try after all. Instead, I fidget with a plastic tabletop sign that says this bar has the best wings in Brooklyn.
“So, you come for the wings?” Audra nods to it, obviously trying to lighten the mood.
“I hear they’re the best in Brooklyn!” I respond, playing along.
“I thought you were vegan ,” Izaac says, sounding more like he’s accusing her of being a witch.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t serve customers their wings.” Audra shrugs.
“Way to stand on principle.”
“Wow, Z, you never change either.”
“Apparently you do,” he says. “Anyway, we’re not here for the food. Or the ambiance.”
He takes another deliberate look around.
Audra looks Izaac up and down, clearly clocking his pristine white sweater, along with the lintless black wool overcoat and red Coach scarf draped over the back of his chair.
“Right, I imagine this place isn’t really your style, is it, baby bro?”
“And it’s yours now?” he asks.
“Hate to tell you, but this is the best job I’ve ever had.” she says.
As they volley back and forth, other differences in Audra become clear. Her hair, yes. But also, she’s wearing less makeup, and her nails—which were always perfectly manicured—are short and plain. Izaac notices too.
“When did you stop doing your nails?” He points at them.
Rather than hiding them, Audra spreads her hands on the table.
“Well, I had to cut back on some things.”
“And is that why you moved?” Izaac asks. “To cut back on things?”
“That’s part of it,” she says. “Plus, this way I’m closer to work, and my creative partners.”
“And by creative partners, you mean… in making video games.”
If Izaac is going to try to get Audra’s help with their family—or reconnect with her at all, he’s going to have to lighten up and be a little less judgmental.
“?’Fraid so,” Audra says. Now she’s smirking at him. “I know you are deeply uncomfortable with all this, but you will eventually find that life is about a lot more than what our parents think.”
“Is that why you didn’t tell me you moved? Or anything, for that matter? Because I’d be uncomfortable and you think I can’t handle it?”
I try to follow the back-and-forth.
“I’m confused, Z. You don’t talk to me for months, and now you show up here at my job , totally out of the blue, and act like I’m putting you out? What is going on?”
“Are you serious? I don’t talk to you ? You’re the one who went MIA. I waited to hear from you, for you to tell me yourself, but you never said a word to me. I had to hear everything from Mom and Dad. Do you know how that felt?”
Okay, nowwwww I’m starting to see the problem here.
“Wait,” Audra says, and starts laughing. “Oh, this is so classic.”
“What?” Izaac asks. “What’s so funny?”
“I told them about school, and they completely freaked out, as expected. And then the next day when they finally calmed down a little, they called me back. That’s when I asked them not to tell you—I wanted to tell you myself.
But they said they already told you, that you were disappointed in me, and that you didn’t want to talk to me.
They said you felt like you had to carry the family name now, that I gave up on our dream. They used the word betrayed .”
She pauses. Clearly, this has been hurting Audra.
“They said I should just give you some space, that you’d come around in your own time,” she finishes.
“And you believed that?” Izaac asks, and Audra sighs.
“I wish I hadn’t. But… I was so nervous you were going to be upset with me, or embarrassed by me… I guess it was already in my head, so yeah. I did.”
“Damn,” Izaac says.
“Why would they do that?” I ask, and it’s an almost involuntary outburst, because I seriously cannot compute.
They both look at me like they forgot I was here, but it’s Audra who speaks.
“I’m not surprised,” she says. “They were always trying to make sure I didn’t ‘corrupt’ Izaac. I knew leaving school, ditching the Plan, being honest about how I felt—they weren’t about to let me have that kind of influence.”
“Well, so what did happen?” Izaac asks. “You seemed so good here when I visited last year.”
“Well, yeah, I didn’t want to tell you how much I hated it. I had been saying for so long that I was going to be a lawyer and a politician, because Mom and Dad wanted that for us, and because I did really want to make an impact. But then I started school and just… nothing about it was for me.”
Izaac and I are quiet.
“Moving here, I got to see really quickly just how big the world is—how many cool ways there are to make a difference—that maybe I didn’t have to be a politician to have a purpose, you know?
And here I was, committed to something so big and scary and expensive , ya know?
I was having doubts and racking up debt I’d have for the rest of my life. And without being sure…”
I listen closely now. I’ve recently had that same thought about film school.
“I realized that those weren’t my dreams. Or at least, not anymore. To be honest, it was a little… embarrassing. Like I should have known myself better.”
Izaac’s arms are crossed, but I know him well enough to see that he’s been convinced. Audra shakes her head, switching between her regret and her anger with their parents.
“God, and to think of all the times I wanted to reach out.”
“Same,” Izaac says, but his response still has a touch of edge to it, like he’s not quite ready to let go of the gripe he’s been holding on to—or he doesn’t know how. He’ll come around, I’m sure of it—and Audra seems to be too.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” Audra says, and puts a hand over his.
“Me too.”
I see an open window now—where we can convince Audra to come back to Ripton for the holidays.
I originally thought it might be to act as a buffer for Izaac, but maybe with everything all out in the open, they can talk to their parents and the family can get on the same page.
Whatever it was that Izaac was hoping Audra could help with, she could be there for him. Just have to find the right moment…
“Anyway, it just means there’s a lot to catch up on,” Audra says.