Every Other Weekend(56)

With my head bent, all I could see were his feet. They’d been pointing away from me when he stood, but then, then turned back.

He started talking about Greg.





   ADAM

I hadn’t meant to bring up Greg. I’d promised to tell her about him sometime, and it wasn’t like he was a secret. Most of my friends had been my friends back before Greg died, so I’d never needed to try to explain how amazing he was to someone who’d never know him. It felt like an impossible task.

But seeing Daniel again had made me realize that, with Jolene, I wanted to try.

“Greg was five years older than me and three years older than Jeremy, but we were close—closer than I’ll ever be with Jeremy.” That was a sad thing to admit even though it was true. Having the role of oldest thrust upon my remaining brother didn’t suit him. Or me. Jeremy never knew the right thing to say or when to say it. He couldn’t get away with half the stuff our brother had without even trying. He wasn’t Greg, and it was a toss-up on any given day which of us felt his lack more keenly.

“He died a week shy of his eighteenth birthday. My brother was—” I broke off, because no matter what I said about Greg, it wouldn’t be enough.

“What did he like to do?” Jolene asked, giving me a place to start when I couldn’t find one on my own.

“Animals,” I said. “He rescued animals, ones that were hurt and would have died without help, and not just the cute, cuddly kind either. He’d get Daniel and they would come home bleeding from scratches and bite marks, barely hanging on to some filthy, furry monster that was still trying to claw their faces off...and Greg would laugh.” I laughed, too, at the memory, and it felt good to be able to remember something that didn’t hurt. “He’d promise the little—and often not-so-little—terror that he was going to take care of them. Daniel wasn’t as lighthearted as my brother, but he never complained about the injuries he got rescuing a hurt and scared animal. They were never as bad as the ones he got from his—” I closed my mouth, and Jolene pretended not to notice. She’d met Daniel, but she didn’t know him. Plus, I was supposed to be telling her about Greg, not Daniel.

Mimicking Daniel’s favorite pose, I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Anyway, Greg always kept his promises. He’d get the animals clean and fed, pay vet bills with money he got from hustling pool with Daniel, and he’d set up places for them in our barn that looked more comfortable than my bed. He even slept out there next to some of the more hurt and skittish ones.”

Jolene’s face lit up as I talked about my brother. She laughed when I told her how Greg had stolen our dad’s truck once when he was fifteen because he wanted to pull a buck out of a sinkhole, only he ended up falling in himself as he tried to get a rope around its antlers.

“He had to call home for Dad to get him out. Our dad was so mad, and Greg didn’t even care how long he was grounded, because they pulled the buck out, too.”

“How long was he grounded?” she asked.

“It was supposed to be a month, but I think my parents let him off after a week. He was hard to stay mad at.” My smile slipped, but I kept talking.

Jolene watched me break apart piece by piece from the inside as I told her about the best person who’d ever lived. I heard the step squeak as she stood and moved toward me. My heart didn’t race like it normally would have when she slipped her arms around my waist and rested her head against my chest; it slowed and steadied.

Later, I’d care that she saw me like that.

Later, I’d care that she was pressed that close to me.

Later.

“The last one, a wolf-bear-hybrid-looking dog that Greg dubbed Fozzie, took such a big chunk out of his leg that my parents had to take him to the ER. Nobody but my brother could have convinced them—while he was bleeding and limping across the kitchen—that Fozzie just needed a little TLC instead of a call to animal control. To this day, I don’t know how he did it, but when they got home from the hospital, Mom was carrying a chew toy and Dad had a bag of dog food in his arms.”

Jolene looked up at me and smiled, but her expression held a twinge of sadness.

“The compromise was that Fozzie had to be tethered to the oak tree in the yard and Greg wasn’t allowed to sleep outside with him until his leg healed. Daniel said he’d stay over with the dog, but something happened with his mom and he never showed.”

There was a pause before Jolene said, “I’m guessing your brother didn’t sleep inside.”

I shook my head and felt my chin quiver.

“Adam.” Jolene’s voice was soft, drawing my gaze back when I tried to look away.

“We don’t know exactly what happened. Maybe Greg untied the dog, or he got loose on his own. Greg was blind to anything but the animal in front of him. He’d belly crawled across frozen ponds before, climbed trees so high that I got dizzy watching him to save them—he wouldn’t have blinked at following a dog down a dark stretch of road at night.”

My chest felt like it was on fire. I’d never done this, never said these words out loud before.

“The driver who hit my brother wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t speeding or driving recklessly. He said he narrowly missed a dark shape darting in front of his car, and Greg was about half a second behind.”