Hi! I haven't posted anything in a long time, but I just wrote this, and would like to see what you guys think. I don't think I'm going to continue it, even though I'm not sure I like the ending. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. And if you have a suggestion for the title, please tell me. I was stumped on what to call it.
I glance over at Jim as he gazes out at the lake. He has bright red hair, and I’ve never seen anything like it before. He starts to turn his head and I flick my eyes forward again. He doesn’t notice that I was looking at him.
“You- You come here often?” I ask my brother softly, without looking at him. He doesn’t lift his eyes from the water.
We sit at the edge of the lake, our toes almost touching the water. All around us are pine trees, slowly closing in. I shift on the hard boulder we sit on, hoping my new dress doesn’t tear. I can’t bring myself to look back at Jim, so I watch my feet as I wiggle them back and forth. The sand is dusted cheerfully over my sad funeral shoes.
I wonder why Jim brought me out here, if he doesn’t want to talk. I think about my father’s funeral, and try to cry, so Jim will talk to me. Everyone was crying at the funeral, even Mom, and she hadn’t talked to Dad in years and years. But I can’t bring myself to shed a tear. I don’t even feel that sad.
“Yeah. Yeah, I like it here.” His voice strains to be casual, but wobbles as he reaches the end. He blushes, then like a warrior picking himself up after a blow, he speaks again. “I know this is weird for you, Trinny. It is for me. But he was my father too, and I think that should bring us together.”
He was my father first, I think, then remember that’s not true. Jim is much older than me, even though Daddy was married to Mom before he married Jim’s mom. I blink in confusion. I’m nine, Jim is thirteen, which means he’s four years older than me. But Mom and Daddy were married when he was born.
“Jim, how are you Daddy’s son if you were born when Daddy was married to my Mommy?”
“Wha-” he says, pulling himself out of a reverie. He pauses, darting his eyes around at everything but me, then says “Uh, complicated grown-up stuff?” It sounds more like a question than an answer. He shifts away from me and turns back towards the water, looking nervous.
“Oh... I miss Daddy,” I announce suddenly. “Even if he wasn’t at home a lot. I miss his suits.”
“His suits?” Jim asks, almost smiling.
“Yeah. His suits were soft, and they smelled nice. I miss playing with his bald spot, too.”
Jim puts his arm around me, and that is when I start to cry, just a few hot tears that I don’t quite understand. They make spots on Jim’s fancy white shirt.
“I’m confused.” I say. Jim nods and swallows, but doesn’t say anything. He tightens his arm around me, and I wrap my arms around his midsection. I smile a little, and wipe my eyes. Just as suddenly as I felt sad, I feel kind of happy.
“Jim,” I say. “I like you. How come we never met before?”
Silence, and I start to say his name when he interrupts. “More complicated grown-up stuff, I-I guess.”
I snuggle closer to him, and something warm and wet hits my shoulder. I look up, and Jim is crying.
I look down again and hug him even tighter, because there’s nothing else to do.
