Barb was honestly delighted. She disappeared into the bedroom, with the disconcerted maid in pursuit, and came back with a padded jacket and gloves—and Ikaro.
“You’re sure you’ll be all right?” Toby said, getting to his feet.
“I’ll be perfectly fine,” she said, and proceeded to mortally embarrass the maid by kissing Toby on the mouth, not briefly either, and with a lingering touch on Toby’s cheek. “You be good while I’m gone.”
“I have no choice,” Toby said with a laugh, and the little party got out the door—which shut, and left a small silence behind.
“You’re sure she’ll be all right,” Toby said.
“My staff would die before they let harm come to her,” he said, and sat down and poured a little warmup into his teacup. He had a sip, as Toby settled. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you, not really. We’ve been in rapid motion—certainly were, the last time we met. It’s been a little chaotic, this time.”
Toby wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He gave an assessing kind of look, beyond a doubt knowing that he’d just maneuvered Barb out the door. “Something serious?”
“Just family business. Not much of it. Nothing I could have done but what I did, but I am lastingly sorry, Toby, for leaving you when I did. I don’t know what more to say. But I am sorry. I had two years out and back to think about that.”
“Hey, you have your job.”
“I am what I am. I don’t regret much, except I know what you went through. I say I know. I intellectually know. I wasn’t there, that’s the point, isn’t it?”
“I read the journal you gave me,” Toby said. “I read every word of it.”
Bren gave an uneasy laugh. “The five-hundred page epic?” It was, in fact, hundreds of pages, uncondensed, but deeply edited—compared to what Tabini had gotten: the whole account of his two years in deep space, hauling back unwilling human colonists from where they had run into serious trouble, trying to prevent a culture clash—the one that might eventually land on their doorstep.
The kyo would arrive as promised, he had every anticipation— a species that had come scarily close to war with a colony that hadn’t asked before it had established itself too near. A colony their own station had had to swallow—a large and unruly item to try to assimilate, given the attitudes in that bundle of humanity.
But that had nothing to do with the situation he’d left Toby in—their mother’s last illness and Toby’s wife walking out, with the kids. Two years. Two years, and no more house with the white picket fence, no more wife, no more kids. Barb and the boat, the Brighter Daysc
“It’s no excuse,” Bren said. “Not from your vantage. Go ahead and say it. I have it coming.
“Say what?” Toby shot back. “Don’t put words in my mouth, brother. Don’t tell me what I think.”
“Maybe you’d tell me.”
“Which is why you maneuvered Barb out of here? She ismy life, Bren. Not just your old girlfriend. She’s my life.”
He didn’t like hearing it. But he nodded, accepting it. All of it. “Good for both of you. If she makes you happy—that’s all that matters.”
“You’re not still in love with her.”
God. He composed himself and said quietly, “No. Definitely I’m not.” And then on to a gentle half-truth. “I hurt her feelings when I broke it off. I was rough about it. She’s still mad at me. And she probably doesn’t want to admit it.” It didn’taccount for Barb making a ridiculous marriage on the rebound, divorcing that man and attaching herself to his and Toby’s mother, and then to Toby. And lying to his brother regarding the evident tension between them wasn’t a good idea. Toby knew him too well, even if Toby didn’t wantto read Barb, in that regard. The hell of it was, Toby wasn’tblind, or stupid, and Toby couldread Barb, which was exactly the problem. “I have every confidence in Barb, when I’m not there provoking her to her worst behavior. Is that honest enough?”
Toby didn’t look happy with the assessment. “It’s probably accurate.”
“Doesn’t mean she loves me. You want my opinion?”
“I have a feeling I’m going to get it.”
“Not if you don’t want it.”
“Damn it, Bren. Fire away.”
“Barb doesn’t turn loose of emotions. She doesn’t always identify them accurately. That’s always been a problem. She’s still charged up about me, but it doesn’t add up to love. There was a time we were really close. I’ve tried to figure what I felt about it, but I’m not sure we ever did get to the love part. Just need-you. A lot of need-you. That was all there ever was. Not healthy for either of us. Now it’s done. Over. Completely. Where you take it from there—I have no control over. I don’t want any.”
Toby nodded. Just nodded. How much, Bren asked himself, how much did Toby add up for himself? How far did he see— when he wanted to?
“I don’t want to lose my brother,” Bren said, as honest as he’d been hedging on the last. “Bottom line. I want you around. As much as can be. I don’t make conditions.”
Second nod.
“You’re mad at me,” Bren said. “You don’t want to be, but you are. Do you want to talk about it?”
Toby shook his head.
“Is it going to go away?” Bren asked. “I’m not so sure it will, until we do talk about it. Is it Mum?”
Toby didn’t look at him on that question.
“It is,” Bren said. “I wasn’t there. Not only at the last. I wasn’t there for years and years before that. Flitting in for a crisis. But you were there every time she needed something. You want my opinion again? You shouldn’t have done it.”
Toby stopped looking at him. Didn’t want to hear it. Never had wanted to hear it.
“Toby, I know it makes you mad. But you were there too often. I’m saying this because I love you. I’m saying this because I was sitting safe and collected on this side of the strait and you were getting the midnight phone calls. I shouldn’t say it, maybe. But I think it and I’m being honest.”
“Think what you like. How was I going to say no?”
“I wish you had. I wish you had, Toby.”
“Shut up. You don’t know a thing about it.”
He nodded. “All right. I’ve said enough.”
“I deserve a woman who was there when I needed her. Barb was there, at the hospital. She was always there. She wasn’t throwing a tantrum every time I had to go and see about Mum. She wasn’t pitching a fit in front of the kids. She wasn’t talking to them about me while I was in Jackson at the hospital. You want the bloody truth, Bren, it was better there than with Jill.”
There was a revelation. The happy home on the beach, the white picket fence, the tidy house and the two kidsc
Toby went home to mother. No matter how rough “home” got, home wasn’t with Jill, not the way Toby remembered things now.
It was also true their mother had had a knack for finding the right psychological moment and ratcheting up the emotional pressurec I need you. Oh, I’ll get along. I had palpitations, is all. Well, go to the doctor, Mother. Oh, no, I don’t need the doctor. Smiles and sunbeams. I’m feeling better. You know I always feel better when you’re herec
After he’d flown home from the continent in the middle of some crisis, because she had one of her own; and she’d hover right over the breakfast table and praise him to the skies and tell Toby what a good son his brother was—salt in the wounds. Absolute salt in the wounds. She’d had Toby rushing to her side because he never loved her enough, never could equal the sacrifices brother Bren made for her, oh, it was so good when Bren was there. She just sparkled.
Hell.
“I love you,” he said to Toby, outright. “I love you even when you’re mad at me—which I don’t blame you for being. You can take a swing at me, if you like.”