Page 20 of Breaking Rules

“Is everyone coming tonight?” I asked as we walked out to the parking garage.

“I think Xue is sick, but everyone else should be there.”

Xue was one of the middle daughters and was working on her doctorate in genetics. She was easily the smartest – and the quietest – of the bunch, which meant her absence wouldn’t be as prominent as, say, oldest son Chang and his three boys.

The sheer size of the Jin family astounded me because it wasn’t just siblings. Lihua’s parents both lived with her, and their stories of growing up in China were always one of my favorite parts of dinner. They’d been in their fifties when they’d moved here with Lihua and loved to talk about the legacy their family had forged through the generations.

As far as I was aware, I didn’t have grandparents or aunts or uncles. I certainly had no memory of them prior to being put in foster care, and there’d never been any mention of someone asking about me. Then again, if DCFS had found anyone, but they hadn’t wanted me, it didn’t necessarily mean that I would’ve been told.

“Did I tell you that Cal got early acceptance to Yale?” Mai asked as we got into her car. “I thought Bao was going to rent a billboard to announce it.”

As she pulled out of the garage and made the turn north, she kept up a steady stream of chatter, getting me up-to-date on what was going on with each of her siblings and their families. It took a few minutes for me to get my attention focused, but once I did, I made sure it stayed that way. I wasn’t going to let Alec’s silence dominate my thoughts. My life would not be ruled by the whim of a man.

Resolve in place, I smiled and asked Mai for details about her oldest niece’s ballet recital.

Twelve

Alec

I’d never dislikedspending time with my family, but I had always felt as if my time and attention would be better used elsewhere. Namely, at work.

I’d always known that I would take over MIRI one day, and quite without me realizing it, that had become my identity, even with my family. Instead of shifting that when Evanne was born, I’d worked even harder, seeing the family’s legacy as passing down to her instead of seeing that I could have a different part in that legacy.

Becoming a full-time father without warning had shown me things about my life and myself that I wanted to change, namely how I wanted to be involved in Evanne’s life. I hadn’t realized until this week, however, just how much that change would affect my relationships with my family.

I hadn’t completely ignored work this week, but I also hadn’t let it consume me either. I’d spent time with Evanne, but also with everyone else too. While I’d enjoyed myself, I’d also finally realized how little I actually knew about what Eoin had gone through this past year.

Our parents hadn’t talked to me about it, but being around them every day, I saw things that I either had missed before or that my parents had hidden. Little looks between the two of them, a hint of worry in their eyes, a tightening of their mouths. I might’ve thought that was a response to what had been going on with Evanne, but when I began paying attention, I caught that the pattern centered around my younger brother.

I knew he hadn’t been sleeping well, so it was no surprise to me, as I went to the kitchen for a late-night snack, to find Eoin sitting at the table in near darkness. This house had always had small lights to keep the numerous inhabitants from tripping over or running into things as we had moved around at all hours growing up. It seemed that having a mostly empty nest hadn’t changed much.

Eoin must’ve been in a mood to reminisce also, as all of his attention was focused on a picture in his hand. I only needed a glimpse to know what it was. I’d been the one to take it, after all. The day Eoin and his best friend, Leo McCormack, had left for basic training, they’d stood in front of this house, dressed in those khaki shorts and green shirts, and asked me to take their picture with the camera Da had bought Eoin for Christmas two years before.

I hadn’t been close to Leo, but the pang of grief I felt was sincere.

“Can’t sleep?” I kept my voice low in the hopes of not startling Eoin.

He shrugged, putting the picture face-down on the table and turning toward me. “It’s still too quiet.”

I doubted that was the entire story, but Eoin wasn’t the sort to share anything simply because he was asked. If he wanted us to know something, he’d tell us. If he wished to keep to himself, he would do just that.

“Mom made shorties.” He motioned to the plastic container next to the refrigerator.

“She’s spoiling you,” I said as I made for it.

The first New Year’s Eve that the Carideo and McCrae families spent together, Theresa had surprised us with the traditional Scottish shortbread. Even as hurt and confused as I’d been by my father’s sudden remarriage, my step-mother’s willingness to go beyond her comfort zone to provide familiarity to kids who were far from home had spoken volumes to me. With the exception of a couple vague memories of our Ma, Theresa was the only mother Eoin had ever known.

One corner of Eoin’s mouth ticked up. It wasn’t a smile, and it lasted no more than a few seconds, but it was a change from the mask he’d been wearing since he’d come home.

“She made them for Evanne,” he said. When I raised an eyebrow, I saw another flicker of humor. “And a bit for me.”

I didn’t know what he was going through, and I knew that me offering my help or a listening ear would be as awkward for him to hear as it would be for me to make, but he was in the right place to get whatever he needed, whenever he needed it. At the moment, I could offer him one thing, though.

“Shortie?”

* * *

“Now,don’t eat these all at once,” Theresa told Evanne. “And make sure your dad eats a few of them. He pretends he doesn’t like them, but I know he sneaks some whenever I have them around.”