Page 116 of The Other Brother

Before I second guess myself, I put an arm around her. “I don’t think it’s supposed to be easy,” I say. “There’s a reason everyone moans about being a parent.”

She leans into me and starts to sob. Full, horrible sobs that seem to come from a deep part of her.

“Hey, hey. It will be all right.” I pat her back awkwardly.

“It’s just so hard. I didn’t realize how hard it would be.”

I let her cry while making appropriate soothing sounds. Well, at least I hope they’re appropriate.

She finally pulls back after giving my T-shirt a good soaking. Tears and baby vomit. There’s an excess of body fluids being shared in this apartment today.

“You’re going to be an awesome mum,” I say.

Pulling a tissue out from her pocket, she blows her nose. “Thanks,” she says finally.

“I mean it. You’ll be like in the hall of fame for mothers, the mum that all other mother’s come to for advice.”

She manages half a grin. Then it fades, and she squints suspiciously at me. “Who are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s someone else’s brain in Ryan’s body, right?”

“This is my supportive brother act.”

She sniffs. “I’m not familiar with it.”

“Hey.” I pretend to be mock offended, but really I’m so happy she seems to have stopped crying.

She wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “God, I’m such a mess.”

“Yeah, you pretty much are,” I agree.

She punches me on the arm, and I shoulder nudge her back. We sit there for a while, shoulder to shoulder as Cody’s music continues to swirl around us.

I hangout at Kate’s place, helping her out as much as I can until Chris gets home.

As I drive home, I think about what else I can do to help Kate.

Maybe I should message Mel and tell her about my visit? Get her to talk to Frank and Heather, see how they can provide more support to Kate.

But I know it’s not Mel or Frank or Heather who Kate needs right now.

When I get home, Mum’s in the kitchen cutting up potatoes.

“Where have you been?” Mum asks. “How did the exam go?”

“The exam was fine. And I’ve been at Kate’s.”

Mum stiffens. “Oh.”

“Kate’s having a hard time. The baby is crying all the time, and she’s not sleeping much,” I say carefully.

“Yes, well, Kate has made it very clear she can manage without me,” Mum says.

I see the determined jut to her chin, and it’s so similar to how Kate gets, it’s almost funny.

Usually this is the point where I bow out. When I adopt my minimize conflict, why-bother-when-you-can’t-change-anything attitude and keep my mouth shut.