Page 40 of The Other Brother

Cody seems to pick up on how I’m feeling, and he’s more subdued as we surf together. Then after lunch he disappears off to practice while I muck around downstairs doing the other type of surfing on my phone. Because I have ears, I can’t help but hear Cody as he practices. Which is hardly a hardship. My opinion of classical music has done a U-turn this summer, diverting from theGod this is as boring as shitstreet, toSometimes this stuff is pretty awesomehighway.

I’ve learned to tell if Cody’s had a good day by how often he stops and starts while practicing and the deepness of the crease on his forehead when he comes down to dinner.

Today, it’s a stuttering day, and I don’t even need to look at the crevasse on his forehead when he comes into the kitchen because his whole body is almost vibrating with frustration.

He sits at the breakfast bar cutting avocados into slices while I turn into a one-man comedic show as part of my mission to cheer him up.

Mel comes home when I’m halfway through my repertoire of "Yo mama" jokes. So I immediately turn them into "Yo sister" jokes.

“Your sister is so stupid she thought Dunkin Donuts was a basketball team.”

“You realize that "Your sister" jokes don’t really work between us, right?” Cody says with a glance at Mel.

“What do you mean? “Your sister" jokes always work.” I continue to grate the cheese nonchalantly.

“But you’re insulting your own sisters.”

“So?”

Mel just rolls her eyes. “Ryan’s never had a problem insulting his sisters.”

“No. One might even say I’m a natural at it,” I say. “But then, you and Kate make it so easy.”

“I swear I need to run an intervention between you guys sometimes,” Cody says.

“How far away is dinner? I’m starving,” Mel takes a seat next to Cody at the breakfast bar.

“Busy day?” Cody asks.

“Yeah. I’ve got this massive assignment that I’m trying to finish.”

“I can’t believe you’ve spent the summer studying when you don’t have to,” I say as I assemble the tacos. Tacos are the best invention ever. Easy to prepare components. Easy to put together. Yet somehow they taste better combined than the sum of their individual parts.

“I love design. It’s been great to learn more about it,” Mel replies.

“Why don’t you just study it at university then? Why bother with law?” I ask as I slide a plate of tacos over to her. Mel immediately stands and heads for the table. I’ve suggested previously that we should just eat at the breakfast bar, but apparently Heather always insists on everyone eating dinner together at the table properly. Cody and Mel feel obliged to continue that even when she’s not here.

“Because law is a much more reliable career path than design. But I don’t know, I’m hoping I can incorporate both somehow,” Mel says as she plops down.

“That’s a good idea.” Cody takes his plate, following us to the table.

“Law and design, 'cause that’s a natural fit.” I settle myself in the chair. “Why don’t you just follow your passion?”

“Yeah, you don’t have our dad,” Mel says. “If you think Mum and Max give you a hard time about not knowing what to do, you should see what our dad’s like. He’s on another level when it comes to planning his kid’s futures. He’s had my glittering law career planned out since I won that debate competition in year four.”

“His approach didn’t work for Kate, did it?” I say. Because Kate is someone who got an impressive university degree majoring in finance but has jumped from job to job since, never sticking with anything before getting accidentally pregnant.

“I think that means Dad’s just going to try even harder with us,” Mel says glumly.

Cody doesn’t seem to be paying attention to the conversation. Instead, he’s inspecting something hidden under his lettuce in the taco shell.

“Raisins?” he asks as he removes the bundle of grapey goodness.

It’s been a while since I’ve done the raisin thing. “I was feeling nostalgic,” I say.

He grins at me, and a spark flares in my chest, bright and sharp.

I crunch down on my taco to distract myself.