Page 2 of Necessary Space

The glass could wait, I decided.

Storming back into the house, I yanked the slider closed behind me and locked it. I drew the curtains closed, as if it mattered. The back yard and the door weren’t visible to anyone, least of all the annoying man-child who lived next door.

In all the months I’d been at the rental, I’d never met him. There were occasions that I’d seen him in passing, either as we drove in opposite directions or from afar when he was checking his mail and I was getting home. But I’d never gotten a good look at him, and we’d never even bothered to exchange pleasantries.

And now the man had the audacity to call mebuddy, like we were friends or he was older than me, or had any semblance of authority. The idea made me scoff, and I went into the kitchen to pour myself a fresh glass of wine. When I opened the cabinet, I realized my hands were shaking. And when my phone buzzed to life in my pocket, I nearly fell into the fridge.

Pulling it out of my pocket, I found a shattered screen, no doubt the result of all my weight landing on it when the chair gave out. I swiped the screen to answer the call and my younger brother Wesley’s face filled the screen.

“Please don’t make me FaceTime you right now,” I said, opening the cabinet again and taking out a plastic water cup instead of my last wine glass.

“I miss you,” Wes whined.

Over and over until I gave in and tapped on the video icon.

I propped him up against the sugar canister while I filled the water cup with what was left of the red wine.

“There’s my favorite brother,” he said.

“I’m your only brother.”

“You’re more like a boring uncle,” he offered, giving me a broad and crooked smile. Even given the splintered screen of my phone, I could feel the happiness—and the brattiness—oozing through the connection.

“It’s not my fault Mom and Dad waited until I was in college to decide they wanted a second chance at raising a winner. I never asked for you.”

“But here we are. And honestly, Henny, maybe if you’d done better at basically everything, I wouldn’t be here.”

“What a loss for us all.” I rolled my eyes and tossed the empty wine bottle in the garbage.

“You being so lackluster as a child really paved the way for me, so if I haven’t told you lately…thank you.” Wes did some other gesture that moved so quickly across my screen, I couldn’t even make out whatever he did with his hands or his face.

“I broke my phone earlier. I can barely see you,” I told him.

I picked up my phone and carried it, along with my wine, into the living room. The couch that came with the house was comfortable enough, not quite as worn as the patio set, and I settled into the cushions and did what I could to see my brother’s face on the screen.

“Glad to hear California is treating you well. Good thing the new gig pays you enough to buy a new one.”

My brother wasn’t wrong. My new job did pay extremely well, but without having rent due on the company house, I’d been funneling it all into savings for the following year.

“I’m still not sure I like it here.”

“What’s not to like? Sunshine, palm trees, the beach.” Wes gestured with his hands in front of his face. “Hollywood.”

“I haven’t been to Hollywood yet,” I admitted.

“You sent me that postcard!” Wes’s expression morphed into fragmented slices of abject horror.

“I got it at a gas station.”

“You’re the worst older brother ever.”

“I thought I was like the fun uncle?” I asked.

“I said boring uncle.”

“You’re so mean.” I shook my head and let out a sigh, shifting my weight. The fall through the chair had been rough on me, and my hip throbbed from the impact. “Why are you calling me, Wesley? It’s like almost midnight for you, and it’s a Friday.”

“Are you implying you think I should have a robust social life?” Wes laughed. “This is Brixton after all.”