the sink, eyeing the rows of bacon. My stomach grumbles.
“Dad has been really busy lately,” Ben pipes up. “We barely see him.”
I frown. “Really? I thought he was going to slow down.”
“Well, that’s what we all thought. He put Roger in charge of daily operations, so I really don’t know why he spends most of the time in the warehouse now.”
Mom’s bitterness is clear. I’ve been so busy lately that our phone conversations have been superficial. I didn’t realize this was going on.
Dad has a successful carpentry business. He designs luxurious furniture for the rich and famous in LA and other parts of the country. His beginnings were humble though, working out of the garage at our old house. It wasn’t until ten years ago that he sold a piece to a celebrity and his business boomed.
“Oh, before I forget, my boss is throwing a barbeque for his employees and family,” my mom says. “It’s two weeks from now. I hope you can make it.”
“Is it on Saturday or Sunday?” I grab a plate and begin to fill it with delicious food. I didn’t realize I was this hungry until I got here.
“It’s Saturday, and don’t worry, Charlie. We don’t have LARP that weekend,” Ben chimes in.
I sit across from him at the table, noticing his new hairdo. His blond hair is sticking out at odd angles, but it was done by design.
Pointing with my fork, I ask, “What’s up with the porcupine look?”
“Oh, do you like it? This is for when Sir Lorenzo gets hit by lightning and gains new powers.”
That’s his LARP character, and we usually drop them in conversation as if they were real people.
I furrow my eyebrows. “When does that happen? I didn’t write it.”
“Oh, Tammara did. I have to show it to you.” Ben gets a goofy grin on his face.
“Who is Tammara?”
Redness sneaks up Ben’s cheeks, and he lowers his gaze to the plate before answering, “My girlfriend.”
I hit the table with an open palm. “Shut up! You have a girlfriend? When did this happen?”
Ben just turned sixteen, so I shouldn’t be too surprised by the development. But he’s my baby brother, and I’m very protective of him. He was bullied when he was younger on account of his Down syndrome. I got into many fistfights to defend him. It wasn’t until we moved and he enrolled in a private school that things improved. Understandably, I really want to know who this Tammara person is.
“Relax, Charlie. Tammara is nice. I’ve met her,” Mom butts in.
“She’s like me.” Ben smiles from ear to ear.
I glance at Mom, and she confirms with a nod. When Ben says she’s like him, he means, she has Down syndrome too.
“All right. Does she want to be a writer then?”
“Well, she likes writing stories for LARP. She’s coming to the next event too. Isn’t it great?”
“Yeah, that’s awesome. Where did you meet?”
“Online.”
My jaw drops.
I glance at Mom, and she simply shrugs. “It’s how it is these days.”
I shake my head and smile. “Man, look at you. All grown up. I can’t believe my baby brother has a girlfriend, and I’m still single.”
“You’re only single by choice, sis.”
“You got that right,” I reply.
I tell Ben and Mom about my fiasco date, which leads to me also talking about my roommate from hell. Mom pulls up a chair and takes a seat with a cup of coffee in her hand.
“To sum up, most of the costumes are dirty or completely ruined, all thanks to Troy.”
“I think you should look for a new place to stay, Charlie. That roommate of yours sounds like an ass.”
“Mom! Language.” Ben laughs.
She rolls her eyes.
“The house is pretty nice though, and the rent is cheap.” I sigh. “I don’t know. The problems only arise when we bump into each other, which doesn’t happen often.”
“I think Charlie should stay, but she can’t let him get away with that. Raven the Sorceress would never let that slide.”
Ben loves to bring up my LARP character into conversation. To be fair, I do the same to him.
Mom frowns. “Revenge should never be the answer, Ben.”
“Okay, maybe not revenge, but a little prank never hurt anyone,” he replies.
I sit straighter, resting my forearms on the table. “Oh, I like the sound of that. What do you have in mind?”
Mom stands. “Okay, if you’re not going to listen to me, I’m out of here.”
We ignore her remark. Mom has her convictions, but she never tries to impose them on us. She believes we’re