Love,

June

P.S. It was especially amusing because, although he and I only went to the dance as friends, I believe he may have wet himself.

Dear Bob:

I can’ t thank you enough for keeping a photo of me wearing my eye patch in your wallet and showing it around as often as possible. How many girls have a brother who carries a photo of them? I’ m flattered and, it goes without saying, grateful.

Shiver me timbers,

June

Dear Bob:

Please accept my most humble gratitude for the people you brought into my life-especially all the girls who pretended to be my friends, only to spend the entire time fawning over you once they got to the house. Your popularity and magnetism remain an inspiration.

Yours in family and friendship,

June

Dear Bob:

Words cannot express my appreciation for my recent weekend visit to your home, during which you took off for a golf outing the second I arrived. It was a great chance for Charlotte and me to bond. She cooked delicious meals, and we went shopping and watched movies together and did girl stuff, even though, at least according to birth records, you are my actual relative.

Warmest regards from your sister,

June

Dear Bob:

How on earth did you ever get Charlotte to marry you? She’ s so genuine and warm, and I like her a lot. Did you blackmail her?

June

‘ HELLO?’  My mom sounded wary when she answered the phone.

‘ What’ s wrong?’  I asked. ‘ Did I catch you at a bad time?’

‘ Oh, it’ s you, honey. No, it’ s fine. I thought you were somebody calling to cancel. This is always the point when guests start pooping out. The Kolesars just called to say they’ re going up north. Your father and I have been holding this party the exact same weekend for ten years, and they RSVPed a month ago.’

‘ I’ ll be there,’  I assured her.

‘ Well, then that’ s one for certain. Hope you’ re hungry.’

The party was the annual fund-raiser for a scholarship my dad helped start in memory of his best friend, George Ku, a teacher who died of cancer. It’ s fifty bucks a head and all the food and drinks you can stuff down. It usually draws a crowd of a hundred or so. I was feeling guilty because normally I’ d help out with the chopping and dicing and whatnot-I’ m not much of a cook, but I make a fine scullery maid. But I’ d been avoiding my parents as of late, tempted to blurt that I was going to adopt Deedee’ s baby but not wanting to say anything until it was certain.

‘ I know you’ re busy,’  I said, ‘ but can I run something by you?’

‘ Sure. I’ m spinning the lettuce. I can do that and talk at the same time.’

‘ I’ m working on the letter for Bob that I told you about. And I’ m having trouble coming up with memories to share.’

‘ Tell me what you have so far.’

‘ ‘ Dear Bob.’ ‘

Silence.

‘ That’ s it?’

‘ I was hoping you could fill in the blanks.’

She sighed. ‘ Was I such a horrible mother? How could you not have a single happy memory from your childhood?’

‘ I have plenty of happy memories. Remember that time we went to New York and realized that we’ d accidentally left Bob home alone? And then we& Oh, wait& that was a movie.’

‘ You love your brother!’  she insisted.

‘ Sure I love him. He’ s my brother. Only there are times I don’ t particularly like him.’

‘ Bob was a wonderful brother to you.’

My hands were poised at my computer keyboard. ‘ In what way,’  I asked cagily, ‘ would you say he was a wonderful brother? And try to speak in complete sentences.’

‘ Oh, for Pete’ s sake. Okay. How about when he signed you up for softball?’

‘ That was one of the worst experiences in my life!’

‘ I thought it was sweet how he went to all your games.’

‘ He went to my games?’

‘ Didn’ t miss a one. It wasn’ t his fault you were terrible. No offense. I’ m only going by what you told me.’

My fingers typed away: Bob, I’ ll never forget seeing your face there in the stands, cheering me on.& ‘ What else you got?’

‘ Oh, hold on.’  She shouted away from the phone. ‘ Martin! The water’ s boiling!’  Then back: ‘ Let’ s see& there were so many things. You always put on those cute plays for us& charged a dollar admission. And how about that time we saw the movie The Birds? He walked you home from school every day for a week because you had this crazy idea that you were going to get attacked.’

‘ That movie was terrifying!’  As I typed, Bob, you’ ve always been my protector, I made a mental note to never let my child watch such a scary film. What were my parents thinking?

‘ Goodness& Oh, hang on again, the pan’ s boiling over.’  The phone was set down, and I heard clattering and shouting to my dad about whether or not he wanted the stove turned off.

When she finally came back, I said, ‘ Sounds like you have things to handle there. I’ ll let you go.’

‘ I do need to run to the store again.’  There was a pause, and then she said, ‘ But sweetie? Give your brother a chance. I know he wasn’ t always overly affectionate when you were growing up. He could be a bit of a pill. But the two of you had your moments. You were always watching TV or playing games or listening to those albums. You know, he’ s changed over the years. You should see him with Charlotte. He dotes on her, treats her like a queen. I don’ t know, maybe he needed to grow up. And-now, don’ t be mad at me for saying this-but maybe you don’ t always give him a fair shake.’

After hanging up, I went back to typing the letter, wishing I’ d set out to show my gratitude to my brother in an easier way-like baking him a pan of brownies or offering to wash his car. Still, I managed to scrape together a few reasons I was grateful to have him as a brother. Turned out Sebastian Forbes wasn’ t the only one around here who could write fiction.

MRS. MANKOWSKI waved a shrimp in the air. ‘ If I were going to die tomorrow, I’ d go skydiving.’

‘ Good heavens!’  my dad replied, clearly horrified. ‘ I’ d much rather die in my sleep.’

My mom had to explain, ‘ Martin, I believe she meant before she died.’

The list was the talk of the annual Ku party. I’ d been there since two o’ clock, and in that time I’ d learned more than I ever wanted to know about my parents’  friends’  unfulfilled dreams. Lots of skydiving, traveling, scuba diving, ballroom dancing, and novel writing has gone undone, I’ ll tell you that. Poor old Mrs. Gorman said she wanted to learn a foreign language, and her husband-who’ d taken to finishing her sentences because she kept forgetting what she was going to say-snorted, ‘ Why don’ t you start with English?’

As soon as I saw my brother’ s wife, Charlotte, I was glad I hadn’ t brought up the adoption yet. She was easily thirty pounds heavier than I’ d seen her last. More than that, she looked dour and bloated. Her normally heart-shaped face seemed to have tipped upside down, and her blond hair hung limp and dull. I’ ve heard those hormone shots are miserable. If you’ re going through that and are, to date, still childless, I’ m assuming babies in general are a sore subject. I’ d called Susan before the party and told her to remind Chase that the subject was off-limits. I knew he got the message, because as soon as he walked in, he caught my eye and pantomimed turning a key at his lips.

After a few hours, the party had dwindled to immediate family, Susan and Chase, and a few assorted neighbors. The sun was going down, and the blazing Valley heat was finally ebbing. My parents had fans and misters going all day-it’ d been a scorcher. We sat on lawn chairs in a circle on the patio, that lazy party-almost-over feeling setting in.

I took a swig of my light beer, my beverage of choice for the day. My dad makes a killer mai tai, but I don’ t go near them. Those babies sneak up on you. ‘ I don’ t get the attraction to skydiving,’  I said. ‘ Knowing me, I’ d leap into midair and then realize I forgot to wear my parachute. Or I’ d be wearing my parachute, but I wouldn’ t even have fun because I’ d be so worried about pulling my cord on time.’

Susan-who apparently didn’ t get the memo about the mai tais-slurred, ‘ As shoon ash the boysh are grown, I’ m gonna shkydive. Ish my life’ sh dream.’  Chase caught my eye and winked. The wink said, Bet I’ m going to get booty tonight-and it’ s not even a holiday.

‘ How about you, Bob?’  my mom asked. ‘ What would be on your list?’

‘ Hard to say. At this point in my life, I don’ t worry about those sorts of things. I’ ve got Charlotte, a great house, a solid job& I don’ t need to ‘ do’  things to feel fulfilled.’

Hello-was that my brother who said that? It looked like my brother. Same brown, short-cropped hair, same Delaney nose, same teen idol dimples. It was starting to make sense why Charlotte couldn’ t get pregnant-aliens had obviously kidnapped my brother and were wearing his body as a disguise.

My mom shot me a look. See?

Charlotte beamed. ‘ Can you believe this guy?’

Susan lifted her mai tai to take a sip but missed her mouth. ‘ That’ sh beautiful, Bob. Jush beautiful.’

‘ That’ s what I’ m always trying to tell my brother,’  my dad chimed in. ‘ He’ s always boasting about how his kids did this and that& one’ s a doctor& one’ s a big la-de-da producer. And I think, What a blowhard. My kids won’ t wind up doing a damn important thing in their lives! They won’ t save anybody’ s life! Won’ t write a novel! Hell, my daughter’ s pushing forty and she’ s not even married!’

‘ I’ m thirty-four!’  I sputtered.

‘ And you know what?’  he continued. ‘ That’ s because we Parkers know what life’ s about. It’ s about being with your friends, drinking and having a good meal, listening to Roy Orbison on the stereo. It’ s not about your silly doctorates and your 4.0 grade-point averages.’