“You would have stayed dead, Bobby. There's a reason why people don't come back from the dead. It takes a long time to move on. People can't just pick up where they left off.”
Bobby looked down and sighed, finally relaying a twinge of shame.
“You come back to life and you bring back all the things that died with you. All the things we buried. It's not fair. Everything is always on your terms—”
“Lil. Lil.” Bobby repeated calmly.
“Don't you—”
“Lil!” Bobby raised his voice. Not a threat, but just a way to get through my own protestations.
I finally stopped, and allowed myself to look Bobby in the eyes for the first time since he showed up at my doorstep. I mean really look into them. Not just at them as a target for my soliloquy of betrayal. In them I could see all the stories he had collected, all the regret, all the mistakes he would admit to.
The standoff only lasted a few seconds as the front door slammed and Rory strode into the kitchen. Bobby smiled and rose to his feet.
“Brother?” Rory uttered in disbelief, his face as white as if he had seen a ghost.
“Yeah, man. I'm here.”
Their bodies crashed into each other as they embraced, Rory slapping Bobby's back so hard his chest echoed. Just like that, Bobby was back in Rory's good graces. Rory was so happy just to have him alive, he was willing to forget the selfish cruelty. But this wasn't someone who awoke from a coma, this was someone who willingly let us believe he was gone for good. No, we didn't issue a death certificate, we kept his portion of the inheritance from their parents safely locked away on the off chance he would be back, but those were empty hopes of people who just wanted to leave a light on in remembrance.
“Christ it's hot. Lilly, have you even offered our brother anything to drink?”
“It's okay. Lil, you don't have to get me anything.”
“Well, I'd like something,” Rory said. “And he's just being polite,” he added, as if I didn't know his brother.
I was glad for Rory to arrive as a buffer, so I went to the fridge to pour them some lemonade. I placed the glasses down in front of each of them.
“Thank you,” Bobby said, trying to catch my eyes again.
“So Bobby, tell me about where you've been, you son of a bitch. We thought something terrible had happened. But, we're just so happy to have you back. I can't—this is just unbelievable.”
“I'm going to take a shower. Cool off a bit.”
My words fell on deaf ears as Rory grilled Bobby about where he had been for the past six years.
“Actually, Rory, can I speak to you for a second?”
“What? Huh?” Rory turned to me, clearly annoyed by my interruption. “Yeah, honey.” He turned to face Bobby. “Make yourself at home. Did Lilly show you to your room?”
Bobby shot me a glance as if he didn't want to snitch on me. “I just got here. We were catching up.”
“Alright, we'll do it later,” Rory said as he followed me into our bedroom.
I shut the door. “What's going on here?” I demanded.
“What? What do you mean?” Rory was visibly confused.
“Did you just invite him to stay here? For how long?”
“For however long he wants, Lilly. He's family.”
“Are you going to cancel your business trips?”
“You know I can't do that...I'm up for a promotion.”
“So you're just going to leave him here with me? I have to tend to someone who thinks he can just trounce into our lives?”
“No one said you had to tend to anyone. And Lilly you've known him since you were, what—eight?”
“I don't know that Bobby.” I speared my index finger towards the door. “Rory, have you forgotten what he did to us? Why do you think he's here? He's been traveling and he probably needs money.”
“He has money and he does have his inheritance here, which he is welcome to.”
“Of course, he couldn't come to their funeral, but he could come collect.”
Rory leaned in. “Lilly, he went to war. He couldn't just come back.”
I paced away when I realized my disdain was getting in the way of the greater point. Rory was right. Bobby was likely still in Korea when their parents died. My callous accusation that he was here only to collect money from their deaths was a low blow. That wasn’t Bobby.
“Fine, so he can stay at a hotel with all the money he already has and his inheritance.” I crossed my arms.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Huh? You never liked Bobby. He's done nothing to you.” Rory’s protectiveness towards his younger brother hadn’t diminished one bit during the years of Bobby’s absence.
“He hurt you, Rory. He didn't even say goodbye. I watched you suffer, wondering where he was.”
Rory's eyes softened with sympathy. For so long we had been at odds, that my declaration of empathy towards him eased his combativeness.
“Listen, hon,” he placed a gentle hand on my elbow. “I know. I get it. Bobby is . . . well, Bobby.” Rory let out a heavy sigh. “But he's here, and you and I don't have a lot of family. He's here now. He came back. That took balls and I don't want to badger him with the whys and the whats. I just want to have my brother back for a while. Eventually, we’ll get answers. I just don’t want to push him away.”
That small exchange between us had been the most decent conversation we had had with each other in a long time. No false apologies or accusations, just honest pleading. Rory's need for his brother took me back to all the laughter we shared growing up and how Rory and Bobby defended each other at all costs. I couldn't allow my issues to come between that. I would stay out of their way for now.
“Fine. Fine. He can stay.”
“Thank you,” Rory said, placing a soft kiss on my shoulder before heading back out to resume playing catch-up with his prodigal brother.
I stared at my foggy reflection in the mirror as I ran the shower. Finally alone, the overwhelming reality of Bobby's return began to sink in. While I fully intended on taking the shower, my main goal was the privacy the bathroom afforded me as I rummaged through the medicine cabinet for something to ease my nerves. My shaky hands slipped as I opened the bottle of Miltown and it tumbled, letting the only two pills left fall into the drain. Those pills were what got me through particularly rough days. Lately, I had been taking them more frequently.
Suddenly, I found myself throwing the empty bottle across the bathroom. Covering my mouth with my forearm as I let out a desperate scream. I ripped off my dress, flung the shower curtain open and stepped in, but the water was no relief from the heat that seared me from the inside out.
Bobby was alive.
The reality of those words sunk in. All the implications of his return flooded me. All the things Bobby did and didn't do and what that meant. I finally allowed myself to feel it all, and I collapsed onto the floor of the shower and wept with a mixture of joy and regret.
Against my will, I listened to the men converse at the table as I prepared dinner.
Bobby had been shot in the shoulder while in Korea and honorably discharged. Then he traveled the world, using his skills in carpentry and mechanics, along with money he had stowed away before being deployed, to support himself. Stories of adventure, food, and travel filled the hours since the brothers reunited. And yet, Bobby never offered why. Rory never demanded it. He wanted to hear his younger brother speak, that was good enough for now.
I put the meatloaf and potatoes down on the table, which was my cost of admission into the conversation.
“This is delicious, Lil,” Bobby declared after taking the first bite.