discharged from the United States Coast Guard.
I was okay with family because they knew me and loved me anyway. I still got strange looks from people in town I’d known for decades. My messy beard, man-bun, and my tats surely didn’t help matters. There was no way I could bring a stranger into this life. I had too many demons for one man to cast out on his own. “Never,” I muttered under my breath.
“You know, I thought the same thing before I met Gunnar.” Kennedy’s look turned wistful.
“You’re different. You don’t have the same kind of baggage I do.” Kennedy was also more outgoing than me. I didn’t mind being a hermit, err, Uncle Hermit, rather.
“Oh no? I listened as my mother’s boyfriend murdered her in the next room before coming to kill me. I was a gay foster kid. No, I’ve got no baggage at all.” Kennedy shook his head as if he couldn’t believe how stupid I was being.
“Okay, fine, you have a few small suitcases. I fill that luggage cart they use at the airport to load the planes.” Christ, it would take decades to unpack my baggage, so I just let it sit, collecting dust.
“Did you know I went to therapy when Mom and Dad adopted me?” There was no snark in Kennedy’s voice.
I shook my head. “No, I had no idea.” Kennedy’s news didn’t surprise me. Mom and Dad were all for us being one big, happy family, but they also knew each of us was entitled to keep our own counsel.
“Mom said she was taking me to swimming lessons, but she was really taking me to a shrink who specialized in kids like me who’d been through trauma.”
I was stunned. Never, in all the years I’d known Kennedy, had he said a word about this. Mom and Dad were experts at ensuring their kids had the tools they needed to be successful, but also that every kid had the privacy they deserved.
“When I first started going, I was just like you. I felt unlovable. Like no one would ever be my friend once they found out I’d stood by and done nothing while my mother was killed.” Kennedy’s blue eyes darkened as if he were reliving that awful night in his mind.
“You were twelve years old! There was nothing you could have done to save her.” I’d heard bits and pieces over the years about what happened the night Kennedy came to live with us. It wasn’t until I Googled his mother’s name that I got the full story. The history of abuse. The number of times neighbors had called the police over the goings-on at Kitty Lynch’s apartment. How many times her boyfriend stabbed her before coming after Kennedy.
My brother shook his head, hopefully knocking away that painful night. “Yeah, well, I always figured I could have helped, but that’s not the point.”
“Oh good. The point.” At long last. Kennedy wasn’t usually this long-winded. I’d figured he must have something important to say. I wasn’t a fan of talking about my feelings, to say the least.
Kennedy lifted an eyebrow that seemed to ask, are you finished?
I reined in my sarcasm. Kennedy was only trying to help me. “What is the point?”
“The shrink said something that changed my entire life. She told me I needed to see myself the way other people see me. It was sort of funny, she was standing up in front of me and took an oversized step forward like she was literally stepping outside herself. My homework for the week was to try it and write down what other people saw when they looked at me.”
For once I was going to keep my fool mouth shut. Obviously, the mind game had helped Kennedy, and that was all that mattered. I knew something that simple would never be able to help me.
“I can see you’re doubtful.” Kennedy chuckled. “Here’s the kicker. When I went back the next week with my list of things, she asked me a very important question. This was what changed my entire life.”
My brother had my attention now. “What was the question?”
“She asked what I would do if I met another boy who’d been through the same things I had. Would I be his friend, or would I shun him?” Kennedy paused for a few seconds. “I think if you ask yourself the same question, the answer might surprise you.”
“Lola?” Mandy shouted from behind us. “Lola, where are you?”
Kennedy’s question forgotten, I took off toward