I set the plates in the sink then rushed back to hug his enormous shoulders. “It’s not your fault,” I whispered to him. His eyes shut tight and he buried his head in my arm.
“I’m so sorry, sissy.”
“Don’t be, I’ve always blamed our sorry excuse for a dad. Well, he was always good to you, but me? I was a different story.” My gaze drifted to the last place I had seen him. In the living room, by the door, telling Mom he wouldn’t be back. Ever. Walking out just before he could witness her crumbling to the floor in tears. I knew the look on my face at this moment: flat face, brows slightly pinched, eyes dark, mouth on the verge of spewing a storm of immense hurt and anger. This was the only face my father ever received from me, the only one I ever wore when thinking about him.
Hannah—she really was a very sweet woman—put a hand on my knee and smiled. I gave her half a smile back. “Thanks,” my voice partially plugged by the sob I was holding back.
Donnie scanned me over, he looked guilty. I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I’m going to have to see him, won’t I?” He nodded. “Son of a-” I hardly caught my tongue. I let out a harsh short laugh in place of my curse.
“Will you tell us what’s going on now,” Hannah was nearly begging. “It’s driving me crazy.”
“Yes,” I added, glad for the subject change.
“Um, uh, about that . . .” He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.
“You’re not going to tell us!” The both of us screamed in unison.
He shut his eyes tight at our bark, “Oops.”
I threw my arms up in defeat. Shaking her head, obviously perturbed, Hannah asked, “When then? When we meet up the rest of your little group?”
“It’s not my fault,” he exclaimed desperately. “Dad told me just to wait. To see what the situation was when we met back up.”
“Ha! Of course, Dad’s keeping the women in the dark. Typical.”
Donnie wouldn’t look either of us, until Hannah scooted to the edge of her seat, closer to him. Her hand rubbed his upper leg and her soft eyes grew still more gentle.
“Babe, can’t you tell us anything?”
As if under attack he reared back, putting his hands up in surrender. “No! You’re not putting that gorgeous, girly, making-dudes-melt magic on me again!”
She gave him a cute smile, “You think I’m gorgeous?”
“No,” he said with force. She pouted just a bit. “No I mean, of course I do. Hey, wait,” he jumped up. “You are just trying to confuse me. Hu-uh, I’ve fallen into that trap way to many times.”
She gave him an innocent look. He shook his head furiously, “I’m gonna go get our stuff ready to go.” He darted out the room.
She looked at me and gave a feeble shrug. “Guess I haven’t mastered the art of manipulating him yet, thought I may as well just try.” You could tell she felt a little bad for her trick. The option of her being too sweet rose into my mind, but I believed her just to be kind.
I grinned, then flashed a reassuring smile, “I like you.”
She flushed and turned her head down a bit, embarrassed. “Well I like you too Miss Trista.”
I wandered over to the sink with a beam on my face, it had been longer than I could remember since I was truly happy like this. Surrounded by people who I loved and who felt the same. People who didn’t just think of me as a nobody or a hassle or that kid who lives on her own. A general scar to their society.
A hand grabbed my wrist as Hannah was pulling me from the dishes needing to be washed. “Oh please, let me.”
“Nah, you’re the guest,” I insisted looking back at her.
“No. You made it.” I began to protest again. “Besides you need to go get ready to go.” She shoved me out the door. “Go!”
I chuckled and strode down the hall. “Thanks,” I shouted behind my back.
“No problem, lady,” she said dubbing me with a pet name.
My room was something of a mess. I made a pact to clean it at least once a month, but it turned out to happen more like once every three months. I was immensely glad it was half way decent when my brother came back. One glance around helped me none in deciding what I needed to take for . . . this. Whatever this trip was all about, wherever we were going, either way it guaranteed to be interesting. I sighed and gave my dresser a doubtful look, “Oh boy.” I snatched a duffle bag from the side my bed and peeled it open, clothes flew in and back out as I tried to guess just what in hell I was getting into. Eventually I had a bit bag full of jeans, two sweaters, and a lot of full coverage tops and all my savings locked up tight. The money I had been hoping to use for something fun would now most likely be used for a hospital bill after I go uncorked at my father. Exciting. Donnie poked my head in the door just as I was giving my proof of will power one last look.
“Hey, what cha dooooin’?”
“Getting ready to go,” I said glancing at him over my shoulder.
He came and stood next to me. “You don’t want to go,” he said simply.
“No, I just don’t want to see him.”
“The guys will be there,” he said bribing me.
I snorted, “Yeah but they’ve all been with him for so long. They can’t all be the same as they were, some of them will have picked up his beliefs. Don’t try to tell me it’s not so, I know it’s true.”
“How do you know if you haven’t seen them,” he said giving me a small hopeful smile.
I looked at him blankly, “You’ve changed.”
He looked down and sighed, “That much, huh?”
I shrugged and looked out my window; it was going to snow here soon. “Not a ton, but enough.
He sighed. “I used to think that I was still the same guy, but one day I realized it too. I’m not the same.” Donnie looked at me. “I wish I could go back, back to before we left and we were all just happy.”
Not all of us, I thought, I can’t be happy while he’s near.
He wrapped his huge arm around me, “But we can’t, can we?”
“No,” I said bluntly and twisted out of his grip. I heard him make a quiet exasperated noise as I walked over to my desk and grabbed a hair tie, looped it onto my wrist, another, another, another. His eyes stayed on me, I could feel it, but he headed toward the door after a moment.
“Donnie,” I called suddenly.
“Yeah?” He poked his head back in.
“If you could go back in time knowing what you know now, would you still have left? Without saying anything? Without even looking? Would you have left at all?”
He looked away and bit the inside of his cheek. His mouth opened-and shut. “Trista I-” Didn’t finish.
“Don’t answer that that,” I said as tears welled again. “I shouldn’t have asked that. I don’t want to know. I’m sorry.”
“Nah, sis, I’m sorry.” For a second I thought he was going to give me the honest answer, but he turned to the living room. 
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