Ty is, predictably, late for dinner, but I'm actually glad to get some time alone with my middle brother. He's friendly and outgoing like Ty, only Thatcher is an artist. He's got his own glass studio just north of the city, and he's making a pretty good name for himself in the art world. From what I understand, he's also making good on his goal to screw every single woman in the city. Or at least all the ones who will swoon for his long hair and hipster beard.
Thatcher and I snag a booth in a dark corner and order drinks while we wait for Ty. Thatcher can always tell when something's off with me, and right away he says, "What's got you all messed up, bro? You look like you're about to lose in court."
I exhale, trying to decide how much to tell him. But this is more than a week I've been off my game, unable to focus. Distracted. I was so sure fucking Alice would just get it out of my system, but as the day wore on, and I kept thinking of her with those construction workers, I was more distracted than ever. Not just the idea of them staring at her, but the idea of her bossing them around, making plans. Organizing her space. She's in total control in there, even if her lighthearted demeanor suggests otherwise. "Thatcher…I'm in a predicament."
He laughs and drains his beer, signaling to the waiter to bring us another round. "What's her name, Tim?"
"What makes you think it's a woman?"
"If it was related to work, you'd say, 'this fucking case, man,' and if it was about the family, I'd already have heard about it from Gran." He reaches for the chips and salsa and settles back into the bench. "So tell me about this girl."
"She…distracts me." Thatcher laughs again, and I wish I hadn't said anything. "Fuck you, man. I don't know if a woman has ever gotten in my head like this before." I decide not to tell him her name, that she grew up in the neighborhood, or that she works for me. Instead, I settle on just describing her as someone, professionally speaking, I should not get involved with.
He nods and taps his chips on the table, meeting my eyes. All three of us have the same gray eyes. We got them from our mother. "So you went and got involved anyway, hm?"
"Something like that." I look over my shoulder to make sure Ty hasn't gotten here yet. If he caught wind of my situation, I just know he'd make the association with Alice from earlier. He has a sixth sense for about these things. "It's not just that she's sexy. She's responsible and organized and--"
"Woah." He puts a hand up. "Organized is like porn for you, Tim-bo."
I shake my head. "Thatch, I thought if I slept with her, I'd get her out of my system. You know? Just succumb to the sexual energy and be able to move on with my life?"
"But now you just want her more?"
I exhale deeply. "Yes. Shit, Thatcher, I didn't even use a condom. You know me! I've never in my life slept with a woman without a condom." His eyes go wide at this revelation, because that was something I drilled into all my brothers' heads all through our teenage years. Do not, under any circumstances, get a girl pregnant. Always cover it up, always. No exceptions.
"You were like a broken record about that," Thatcher says. "You know, Ty and I used to joke that you were going to become a health teacher and spend your days scaring teenagers away from sex." I drag my hands through my hair, not feeling a bit better after this discussion with my brother. He grins, then, and asks, "So what are you going to do?"
My eyes go wide at this. "I thought you were going to give me advice! What the hell am I telling you any of this for?"
He shrugs, and then kicks my foot, because Ty comes slinking into the booth, looking guilty as sin. Thatcher laughs and throws his arms around both of us. "Ty," he says, grabbing our youngest brother by the chin. "Tell me you at least used a condom?" And all of us break out laughing.