take control of your emotions.” Gregory had become used to Mitchel’s mood swings. He didn’t like the idea of having to deal with his brother’s emotional state, but at the moment, there wasn’t much he could do other than abandon his brother in his time of need.
“Yeah, right. Control my emotions.” Mitchel took a swig of his beer and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He pointed to the can with his other hand. “This, my brother, is how I control my emotions.” He chugged the rest of the beer, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed another one.
Greg put his arm on his brother’s shoulder. “Maybe you should slow down, eh?”
Mitchel pulled away from Greg violently. “Don’t you be telling me what to do also!”
Greg could see Mitchel’s anger increasing, and he had to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. And especially before Elaine got home. If she saw Mitchel in this frame of mind and on his way to a bender, both men might be out on the street.
“Come on. Let’s go watch some baseball. I just finished putting the new console together for the TV downstairs. I wanna see how it looks from the sofa.” Gregory opened the basement door and gestured for Mitchel to go down.
When Greg and Elaine had bought the house, it had a finished basement that Greg had converted into a game and TV room. He built a bar on one side and arranged a seating area on the other, with a pool table in the middle. It was supposed to be a playroom for the kids they had planned on. But after several attempts, Elaine had been unable to carry a pregnancy to full term, so they gave up on trying to have a family. Elaine sought solace by working at a children’s art center that focused on kids with learning disabilities. Several evenings a week, she would volunteer at the library.
Greg and Elaine had led a relatively quiet life until they opened their home to Mitchel. One of their bedrooms was for guests, another was a den. Elaine was uneasy with Mitchel sleeping in the room next to theirs, so Greg set up an area in the basement where Mitchel could have his privacy and leave them with theirs. He put up a couple of bookcases as a room divider and moved one of the futons over. The only rule was no smoking in the house, a rule that Mitchel seemed to forget every time he lit up.
Mitchel begrudgingly descended the steps to his new temporary home. “How about a round of pool instead?” Before Greg could give him an answer, Mitchel started racking up the balls. He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “It ain’t lit,” he said through clenched teeth. He pulled a cue stick and hit the ball with such force it flew off the table.
“Whoa! Easy there!” Greg walked over to where the ball landed and picked it up. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Screw it.” He threw the pool cue on top of the table and headed toward the bar. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured himself a large dose.
Greg knew Mitchel had gone beyond the point of reason and decided to leave him alone with his miserable mood. By now, the scotch seemed like a good idea to him as well, so he poured himself two fingers’ worth and headed toward the stairs.
“Where you goin’?” Mitchel was being snarky.
“I need to clean up before Elaine gets home. I promised I’d heat up the manicotti. You want any?”
“Nah. I’m fine.” Mitchel had his back to Greg, and he waved his glass in the air.
“OK. There’s plenty if you change your mind.” Greg knew Mitchel wouldn’t change his mind. He’d get totally smashed and pass out on the sofa. That seemed to be the routine since he had come to stay with them. He never once made it over to the futon that Greg had unfolded into a bed.
Greg knew that Elaine was going to be asking how much longer Mitchel would be staying with them. She had argued that he could stay with their mother, who was alone, in a much bigger house. But Elaine also knew that Vivian Haywood could be as impossible to deal with as Mitchel. At least she knew where he got his attitude from.
Gregory and Mitchel’s dad had been a farmer. He worked at least twelve hours a day until late one afternoon, when he