Chapter 2

On my way to the front door, my father called out from the living room where he was watching TV. “At least take some leftovers.” He looked over at my brother. “Vince, stuff some of the rice and a few pieces of chicken in a Tupperware for him.”

Vincent sighed and stood, dusting imaginary particles off his black silk shirt. “Jesus,” he said with a sly smile. “What is he? Five years old?”

I dropped the bag by the door and grabbed my running shoes. “No, Dad, give the leftovers to Vincent. You know he can’t cook for shit.”

My brother cracked his knuckles. “And here I thought I wouldn’t have to kick your ass tonight.”

“Boys.” My father’s eyes were fixed to the television. “No rough talk around me.”

When I was ready, I picked up my bag. “Bye, Dad.” I looked around and heard dishes clanking in the sink. “Bye, Mom!” I shouted.

“Hey, wait.” Vincent was walking up to me. Downhearted or not, he looked fantastic, as always. He’d definitely been lucky with the Payne genes. My brother had gotten our father’s svelte and tall build, whileIwas five foot seven in dress shoes. He’d inherited my father’s lively brown eyes, while mine were cornflower blue, small and too gentle, and to add to his good looks, Vincent had thick chestnut brown hair that waved naturally into a Superman haircut. Hewas the gorgeous brother, not me.

No, I was the cute blond, at best. Whenever we visited relatives, people would shake Vincent’s hand. And me? They’d pinch my cheeks.

“I wanna give you something,” Vincent said, meeting me at the door.

“What? I’m a little too old for your wedgies.”

“Funny.” Vincent checked over his shoulder. Dad was dozing off in front of the screen. At seventy-three, he should have been retired, but Dad was way too obsessed with his work as an urban planning engineer to stay away. Vincent took out his wallet. “Early birthday present.”

“My birthday is in March. Of next year.” It was August.

“Just take it, will you?” He shoved two brown bills into my hand. Hundred dollar bills.

“No, no.” I pushed the money back into his fingers. “Give it to Justin.”

“I’m not gonna give my five-year-old son two hundred dollars. Would you just take it already? Buy yourself something nice. I don’t know, a tie, for instance. Or take Nash out for a steak or something.”

Not a bad idea. But no. I couldn’t take his money. I didn’t even need it. Well, not thatmuch, anyway. “Thank you, but no, Vincent, I can’t take your money.”

“Steven,” my mother shouted from the kitchen. “Micah is leaving. Give him a hug!”

Vincent and I stared at each other. “How does she see through walls?” he asked with a smirk.

My father made a move to get up, but I hurried to him before he got out of his chair. Bending to him, I kissed his head. “Don’t get up. I’ll see you soon.”

He squished my cheeks. “Don’t work too hard. Okay? And call your mother this week.”

“Yep.” I walked back to the entrance and stepped out on the porch. Outside, the street was quiet, as it usually was on Sunday evenings. I’d grown up in this high end neighborhood in the burbs, but didn’t miss it much. I preferred the hustle and bustle of the city. I descended the stairs and looked up at my brother, who was still standing there with the money in his hand. “You think maybe you’ll bring Justin next week?” I asked him.

Vincent nodded briskly. “We’re fine-tuning the details of the divorce. The custody, I mean.”

“Oh…”

“Melissa’s being difficult.”

“And I’m sure you’re being agreeable and smooth.”

My brother flipped me off and entered the house, but then poked his head out. “I’m trying to be nice to people.”

“Okay…”

He tossed his chin up at my Hyundai. “When was the last time you got your brakes checked?”

“Vincent.” I popped the driver’s door open. “Always a pleasure.”

He waved my comment off and smiled a little, going back into the house.

I tossed my bag on the passenger seat of the car and slipped in behind the wheel, exhaling a long sigh. I’d survived another Sunday night dinner with my family without having a secret meltdown in the bathroom. Finally, I took out my phone. I had a text message from Lou, my recently hired and only employee. Actually, in all fairness, Lou was much more than an employee. She was turning into a good friend. Happy to hear from her, I clicked on her message.