heard the news; tracing over the etched letters with my fingernail. Granddaddy, the man who was as big an influence as my own father, was dead.
“Do you remember the day he gave them to us?” Chase was my youngest brother, yet wiser in maturity than all of us combined. He was born with an old soul, as the old-timers say. He always knew what he wanted out of life. Always so sure about his choices—he’d been a Marine in his heart since he knew what they were.
“Sure, it was right before I left for Parris Island.”
Chase was currently stationed at Camp Leatherneck, in Afghanistan. Dad sent Granddaddy’s private jet to get him. A move which would have been cast away for anyone, who wasn’t the grandson of one of the country’s most loved US Senators. Chase told us yesterday the General himself drove him over to the airstrip.
“Strange, I was just thinking about what he told us that day.”
I took a swig of my now-warm beer, constant thoughts of him running around in my mind.
I had sat in his house as fellow mourners gave me words of condolences and gratitude for things he had done for them. It all became too much at one point. I kissed Mom’s cheek and headed out, my brothers falling in line silently behind me, just as they always did. That was how we ended up here, drinking beer and commiserating together.
“I won’t even date a girl named Faith.”
Austin, my middle brother was book smart as fuck, but without a speck of common sense. He attended MIT straight out of high school and lived in New York City where he built firewalls for big money companies.
“At least you’re willing to take a young lady on a date, unlike this one.” Carson pointed at me. When my brothers and I had walked into the bar a half hour earlier, I heard someone call my name and looked over. There sat Carson and his wife, Ms. Georgia. The first time I introduced him to my brothers, he fit seamlessly into the fold.
“You know, I have never been able to believe the three of you are not natural brothers,” Ms. Georgia spoke, her sweet southern dialect as warm as my own momma’s. Georgia had given her opinion on my lack of a steady love life a few times in the past, although she had sense to never try and set me up. She’d warned me on numerous occasions that one day I would meet a young and proper lady who would toss me on my ass.
“Every one of you is cuter than a toe sack full of puppies.”
I hadn’t been referred to as cute since I was a little boy. If Ms. Georgia said it, though, I wasn’t about to argue.
“All of you have the same sharp jaw as your daddy.” She was tracing her own face as she spoke. Carson looked at her with such admiration, the same way my daddy regarded my momma. “Eyes so blue the ocean is surely jealous.” She waved her hand in the air. Nana VanBuren once told us angels took a drop of the ocean to give us the color of our eyes. I guessed Ms. Georgia knew what she was sayin’. “The only real difference between y’all is the color of your hair.” She ended as she leaned back in her chair, wine glass to her lips.
There was more than hair color that separated me and my brothers. There were three different mothers who gave birth to us, but then they either didn’t want or couldn’t keep us. My brother Austin was the type of man you brought home to meet your father, with his Master’s degree and gentlemanly ways. Chase, the all American hero, carried more men out of battlefields than he would ever admit. The kind of boyfriend, who would write to you every day, and keep his promise of loving only one girl at a time.
“Austin, honey. You work behind a desk all day and yet your arms are as big as these two.” She pointed to Chase and me.
“Yes, Ma’am. I have to keep up with them. They’d never let me forget if I didn’t.” His smile flashed in her direction, the one our momma said was lethal if we weren’t careful.
“Chase, do you have anyone special?”
Where my little brother
“Do you remember the day he gave them to us?” Chase was my youngest brother, yet wiser in maturity than all of us combined. He was born with an old soul, as the old-timers say. He always knew what he wanted out of life. Always so sure about his choices—he’d been a Marine in his heart since he knew what they were.
“Sure, it was right before I left for Parris Island.”
Chase was currently stationed at Camp Leatherneck, in Afghanistan. Dad sent Granddaddy’s private jet to get him. A move which would have been cast away for anyone, who wasn’t the grandson of one of the country’s most loved US Senators. Chase told us yesterday the General himself drove him over to the airstrip.
“Strange, I was just thinking about what he told us that day.”
I took a swig of my now-warm beer, constant thoughts of him running around in my mind.
I had sat in his house as fellow mourners gave me words of condolences and gratitude for things he had done for them. It all became too much at one point. I kissed Mom’s cheek and headed out, my brothers falling in line silently behind me, just as they always did. That was how we ended up here, drinking beer and commiserating together.
“I won’t even date a girl named Faith.”
Austin, my middle brother was book smart as fuck, but without a speck of common sense. He attended MIT straight out of high school and lived in New York City where he built firewalls for big money companies.
“At least you’re willing to take a young lady on a date, unlike this one.” Carson pointed at me. When my brothers and I had walked into the bar a half hour earlier, I heard someone call my name and looked over. There sat Carson and his wife, Ms. Georgia. The first time I introduced him to my brothers, he fit seamlessly into the fold.
“You know, I have never been able to believe the three of you are not natural brothers,” Ms. Georgia spoke, her sweet southern dialect as warm as my own momma’s. Georgia had given her opinion on my lack of a steady love life a few times in the past, although she had sense to never try and set me up. She’d warned me on numerous occasions that one day I would meet a young and proper lady who would toss me on my ass.
“Every one of you is cuter than a toe sack full of puppies.”
I hadn’t been referred to as cute since I was a little boy. If Ms. Georgia said it, though, I wasn’t about to argue.
“All of you have the same sharp jaw as your daddy.” She was tracing her own face as she spoke. Carson looked at her with such admiration, the same way my daddy regarded my momma. “Eyes so blue the ocean is surely jealous.” She waved her hand in the air. Nana VanBuren once told us angels took a drop of the ocean to give us the color of our eyes. I guessed Ms. Georgia knew what she was sayin’. “The only real difference between y’all is the color of your hair.” She ended as she leaned back in her chair, wine glass to her lips.
There was more than hair color that separated me and my brothers. There were three different mothers who gave birth to us, but then they either didn’t want or couldn’t keep us. My brother Austin was the type of man you brought home to meet your father, with his Master’s degree and gentlemanly ways. Chase, the all American hero, carried more men out of battlefields than he would ever admit. The kind of boyfriend, who would write to you every day, and keep his promise of loving only one girl at a time.
“Austin, honey. You work behind a desk all day and yet your arms are as big as these two.” She pointed to Chase and me.
“Yes, Ma’am. I have to keep up with them. They’d never let me forget if I didn’t.” His smile flashed in her direction, the one our momma said was lethal if we weren’t careful.
“Chase, do you have anyone special?”
Where my little brother
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