Telling the Two Apart
011
Silence fell.
It fell with night, with headlights coming on and leaves shining with the streetlights instead of the gloom. The traffic did not slow down as the working class dispelled and the kids came out to play—in bars, in clubs, in house parties one neighborhood over, thankfully, not this one. Here, dining room lights flicked off and were replaced with lights in dens and living rooms as books were read and TV dramas were soaked in by the vegetative sponge of humanity.
Mikey had nothing.
Kelly and Gerard were only an hour late, but it was an hour nonetheless. They had even accounted for time Gerard needed to take the bus home (Kelly’s house, not home, Mikey mentally grumbled).
Nina, ad idem, chose to shun National Geographic and think of an interesting conversation piece, for her new roommate’s sake.
“How did you like Jersey?” she asked, and her voice fell on all four of their ears with a crack of broken silence.
Mikey tucked his feet under himself and shrugged. “It was good. I love Jersey. Bad neighborhoods, though, everywhere you go.”
“That’s a commonly known thing.”
“Yeah.”
“You grew up there?”
“Yep. I’ve moved around a little, but not like this. I guess I can get used to it.”
Nina nodded thoughtfully. “We have bad neighborhoods here, too, if you ever feel out of place.”
This elicited a chuckle from Mikey. He rubbed his eyes before they wandered around the open space of the living room. Painfully immaculate, every surface clean and smooth. Oh, right. Shut-in, Mikey thought, immediately stung with guilt.
“What about you?”
“Hmm?” Nina raised her head; she’d been watching Orion’s tail move around the cushion beside her.
“Did you grow up in Chicago?”
“Oh, yes. It’s a nice way to start, rough and dirty, right at the roots of society’s slime.”
“I hear you on that.”
“We haven’t changed much from the era of Charles Dickens when it comes to places like the projects.”
Mikey licked his upper lip. “You look like you’ve come a long way.” He gave his head a jerk toward the center of the large room, a gesture surrounding their surroundings.
“I have. I guess. I don’t really deserve it.”
“Self-pity or low self-esteem?”
“A little of both,” Nina admitted. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“I don’t, really,” he replied, and they both knew it, smiling.
“Your brother does. I’ve dumped about as much of my brain out on the table as I can stand for now.” A warning, also a reminder. “Where is he?”
Mikey wished for a thick blanket, a movie on this unfamiliar TV, a cup of cocoa as New Year’s Eve swung around the corner, looming. Maybe not cocoa. Maybe Coke.
Coke reminded him of Frank as the doorbell rang. And, as expected, Frank was not at the door waiting to be let into the exclusive warmth of the apartment. Gerard stood, wobbling, cold fingers unsteadily gripping two large boxes. His smile widened when Mikey reached to help. “We’re late. Sorry,” he breathed as they moved inside and set the boxes on the floor.
Kelly was heading up the stairs, looking unsure in her business casual. Gerard took the box from her arms.
“We went out to eat,” she admitted sheepishly, embarrassment and cold flushing her cheeks. Nina waved her hand dismissively. Mikey elbowed Gerard in passing. “It was this Japanese place we were talking about a week or two ago. We brought some takeout, and we didn’t eat much. Gerard—it’s probably getting cold. Go get it so they can eat something.”
Orion, ever assertive, ran between legs and pushed his way onto laps as the four settled down in the dining room, which had been uselessly furnished with a table large enough for six. There, they ate microwaved noodles and vegetables and cold gomoku-zushi, feeding Orion frequent scraps.
“So what did Mom say?” asked Gerard some minutes into the meal, smacking his lips after a mouthful of snap peas.
Mikey sighed. “She wasn’t as upset—no, she wad really upset. But you know.” He shrugged, reached for the soy sauce. “She gets it. We’re not homebodies. And we can travel.”
“Was she mad?”
“I think she was surprised.”
“Mmm.”
“She knew you’d stay here. Frank was upset, though.”
Gerard swallowed. Of course there had been confrontations with old friends—he and Mikey shared friends and they would have been none too happy to lose both of the Way brothers, if they liked them as much as they claimed. There was closeness, a family tie between all of them.
Or there had been.
“He said he’d call you later; you’ll probably hear from him tomorrow.”
Nina shot Gerard a look that said she expected some sort of debate with Frank, whom she’d never even heard of. Gerard suspected that meant he must really be in for it. “Well, he can’t say anything to me. It’s nobody’s fault.”
Mikey nodded, focusing on tuna and rice on his plate. Kelly half-smiled.
“Hell, he could move here too,” chuckled Gerard. “At this rate, we’ll have the whole state of Jersey on this street before next year.”
“Would be quite a problem for the economy.”
“As long as we have friends.”
It fell with night, with headlights coming on and leaves shining with the streetlights instead of the gloom. The traffic did not slow down as the working class dispelled and the kids came out to play—in bars, in clubs, in house parties one neighborhood over, thankfully, not this one. Here, dining room lights flicked off and were replaced with lights in dens and living rooms as books were read and TV dramas were soaked in by the vegetative sponge of humanity.
Mikey had nothing.
Kelly and Gerard were only an hour late, but it was an hour nonetheless. They had even accounted for time Gerard needed to take the bus home (Kelly’s house, not home, Mikey mentally grumbled).
Nina, ad idem, chose to shun National Geographic and think of an interesting conversation piece, for her new roommate’s sake.
“How did you like Jersey?” she asked, and her voice fell on all four of their ears with a crack of broken silence.
Mikey tucked his feet under himself and shrugged. “It was good. I love Jersey. Bad neighborhoods, though, everywhere you go.”
“That’s a commonly known thing.”
“Yeah.”
“You grew up there?”
“Yep. I’ve moved around a little, but not like this. I guess I can get used to it.”
Nina nodded thoughtfully. “We have bad neighborhoods here, too, if you ever feel out of place.”
This elicited a chuckle from Mikey. He rubbed his eyes before they wandered around the open space of the living room. Painfully immaculate, every surface clean and smooth. Oh, right. Shut-in, Mikey thought, immediately stung with guilt.
“What about you?”
“Hmm?” Nina raised her head; she’d been watching Orion’s tail move around the cushion beside her.
“Did you grow up in Chicago?”
“Oh, yes. It’s a nice way to start, rough and dirty, right at the roots of society’s slime.”
“I hear you on that.”
“We haven’t changed much from the era of Charles Dickens when it comes to places like the projects.”
Mikey licked his upper lip. “You look like you’ve come a long way.” He gave his head a jerk toward the center of the large room, a gesture surrounding their surroundings.
“I have. I guess. I don’t really deserve it.”
“Self-pity or low self-esteem?”
“A little of both,” Nina admitted. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“I don’t, really,” he replied, and they both knew it, smiling.
“Your brother does. I’ve dumped about as much of my brain out on the table as I can stand for now.” A warning, also a reminder. “Where is he?”
Mikey wished for a thick blanket, a movie on this unfamiliar TV, a cup of cocoa as New Year’s Eve swung around the corner, looming. Maybe not cocoa. Maybe Coke.
Coke reminded him of Frank as the doorbell rang. And, as expected, Frank was not at the door waiting to be let into the exclusive warmth of the apartment. Gerard stood, wobbling, cold fingers unsteadily gripping two large boxes. His smile widened when Mikey reached to help. “We’re late. Sorry,” he breathed as they moved inside and set the boxes on the floor.
Kelly was heading up the stairs, looking unsure in her business casual. Gerard took the box from her arms.
“We went out to eat,” she admitted sheepishly, embarrassment and cold flushing her cheeks. Nina waved her hand dismissively. Mikey elbowed Gerard in passing. “It was this Japanese place we were talking about a week or two ago. We brought some takeout, and we didn’t eat much. Gerard—it’s probably getting cold. Go get it so they can eat something.”
Orion, ever assertive, ran between legs and pushed his way onto laps as the four settled down in the dining room, which had been uselessly furnished with a table large enough for six. There, they ate microwaved noodles and vegetables and cold gomoku-zushi, feeding Orion frequent scraps.
“So what did Mom say?” asked Gerard some minutes into the meal, smacking his lips after a mouthful of snap peas.
Mikey sighed. “She wasn’t as upset—no, she wad really upset. But you know.” He shrugged, reached for the soy sauce. “She gets it. We’re not homebodies. And we can travel.”
“Was she mad?”
“I think she was surprised.”
“Mmm.”
“She knew you’d stay here. Frank was upset, though.”
Gerard swallowed. Of course there had been confrontations with old friends—he and Mikey shared friends and they would have been none too happy to lose both of the Way brothers, if they liked them as much as they claimed. There was closeness, a family tie between all of them.
Or there had been.
“He said he’d call you later; you’ll probably hear from him tomorrow.”
Nina shot Gerard a look that said she expected some sort of debate with Frank, whom she’d never even heard of. Gerard suspected that meant he must really be in for it. “Well, he can’t say anything to me. It’s nobody’s fault.”
Mikey nodded, focusing on tuna and rice on his plate. Kelly half-smiled.
“Hell, he could move here too,” chuckled Gerard. “At this rate, we’ll have the whole state of Jersey on this street before next year.”
“Would be quite a problem for the economy.”
“As long as we have friends.”