12| The Brewing

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The dream interrupted my sleep again. This time, the man warned me. It was a parable, or so I thought, for I couldn't understand it. His words were very distinct and held much meaning to them. 'Beware! the crisis of the eve of a Sunday,' he said, before fading to smoke.

When I woke up, the house was pregnant with awful singing and loud cackles. The coarseness in one of the voices distinguished it from the rest. I had grown so accustomed to it over the years, that I could easily mistake it for my inner voice. From the top of the stairs, I saw Timothy and the twins playing karaoke in the living room. He was starting to like them; I thought. They seemed... happy in his company.

"Bro, how come you didn't tell me Shaun knew so much about cars?" Timothy asked when he noticed me staring at them. "We'll get along much better than I thought."

"Told you you'd love them, but you're so stubborn and bent on your own opinion."

Timothy let out a throaty laugh. "Look who's talking," He put both hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow, "King of stubbornville."

I laughed.

"What's stubbornville?" Shaun asked.

"It's, where, Shaun. Where's stubbornville?" Shaunae corrected.

Timothy looked down at her and smiled.

"It's not a real place, princess. He made it up."

Shaunae scratched the side of her head and peered around at Shaun, who shrugged at her. He too seemed confused.

They were innocent, too innocent to be thrust out into the cold, grim world. "Why don't you two go watch cartoons in my room. Uncle Timothy and I want to talk."

"Can I wear your green shirt, uncle Lucas? Shaunae asked in unison?

"Of course, princess. You can wear anything you want."

"But, uncle Lucas, it's my favorite one."

"Don't pout, Shaun. Your lips will grow really, really big and you won't get a girlfriend," Timothy said.

Shaun's hand flew to cover his lips, and he widened his eyes and looked at me, then back at Timothy, who was stifling his laughter.

"You can wear anything you want, okay. But don't touch my work shirts." With that, I kissed their foreheads and ushered them upstairs.

As soon as the bedroom door shut, the smile on Timothy's face disappeared and he replaced it with a frown.

"What?" I knew he was about to scold me about something again, I just didn't know what.

"Why the hell are those kids wearing your clothes?" Timothy plopped down on the coffee table and hoisted his legs onto the couch. "Wear anything you want, princess. What the fuck?"

I stared at him with wide eyes. "Seriously, Dude, that's my couch, and that's my glass top coffee table."

"And?"

I shoved his feet off of the couch. "And your ass is going to break my coffee table. I put my face on that couch, you know."

Timothy rolled his eyes. "I'm not even that heavy. You act like I'm some big muscular guy."

"Dude, you are six feet tall and you're muscular. You aren't skinny."

"Whatever". He walked around to sit on the couch and gestured for me to follow. When I sat after contemplating if I should, he continued. "Bro, why are those kids wearing your clothes?"

I sighed. I hadn't gotten around to taking them shopping yet. They've been wearing the same clothes for weeks now, washing and repeating them. "I just haven't had the time to buy them new ones, besides, I'm not complaining so just drop it."

"You barely know them. What if?"

"What if what?" I let out a long sigh and covered my face with my palms.

"All I'm saying is you shouldn't get too comfortable. You know how attached you get and I can't bear to see you hurt again." He sighed. "You're like my little brother. I don't like when you rush things like this, you always end up on the shitty end of the stick."

He was right. I always ended up on the shitty end of the stick, and it was always because I gave out more than I got back. This time was different. These kids reciprocated my energy, if not loved me more. "They need me, man." I looked into his eyes, hoping he could see something lingering behind my words. "They have nightmares every night, bro, and it breaks my heart to see them so scared."

Timothy Hissed and rolled his brown eyes. If I didn't know him well, those eyes of his would've hypnotized me every time I looked at him. "Is your heart so fucking fragile that everything breaks it?"

"It doesn't matter what you say, they aren't going anywhere." I stood to leave the room, and he drew me back down by the waist of my shorts.

"Look, I'm not saying you should send them away." He grabbed a gift bag from behind the couch and handed it to me. "I got these for them. It's obvious they're innocent, I just don't want you to put yourself in a position where someone you care for might leave you again."

"I know, bro, so please, just drop it before they hear us. I don't want Shaunae to have another anxiety attack." I shook my head. "I can't bear it."

"Fine." That was all he said. He looked at me and his eyes lingered for a few seconds before he stood and walked into the kitchen.

I decided it was a good idea to take the day off and bring the twins on a well-needed shopping spree. They lacked clothes and toys, and I needed a day out. "Kids, wear your clothes and come downstairs," I shouted after them from the foot of the stairs before walking back to the couch.

Minutes later, the sound of their feet clicking on the tile drew me out of thought.

"Hey, uncle Lucas," Shaunae called, plopping down on my lap. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Yes, princess."

"Will you come too, Uncle Timothy?" Shaun asked.

Timothy returned from the kitchen with a shot glass in his hand. He kept liquor there because I never did. At least, that was before Kandy broke my heart and drove me into drunkenness.

"Of course," I smirked at Timothy. "Right, Uncle Timothy."

Timothy glared at me, then rolled his eyes discreetly so the kids wouldn't notice his dissatisfaction. "Of course, Uncle Timothy loves shopping."

Shaunae beamed with excitement. She hugged my waist and thanked me.

"Thanks, Uncle Lucas," Shaun whispered. He hung his head low and picked at the hem of his shirt.

"What's wrong?" It seemed he was about to cry. "Shaun?"

"Mommy used to take us shopping."

I didn't know what to say. There was nothing I could say to make him feel better. I felt bad for doing things that reminded him of his parents every day. It hurt as much already that he had to live without them. He shouldn't have to be reminded of them ever so often.

"It's okay to remember her, Shaun, but you have to be strong, okay?"

Shaun nodded, yes. He peered up at me as if asking for permission, then lept into Timothy's arms only after I nodded yes.

"We got you, you'll be fine with us."

Shaun nodded and came out of the hug before walking through the front door to meet his sister.

"See what I'm talking about. They need me," I whispered.

Timothy sighed. "I'm sorry I was so hard." He patted my shoulder. "They kinda remind me of how you were when your parents died. They seem to make you happy, so I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, bro." I pulled him into a hug and he held me tight for a few seconds, then pushed me away like I was some kind of germs.

"Ewe, bro, I hug girls only."

We both laughed in unison while I closed the door behind us. It was time to buy the twins some real clothes and erase the sadness from their faces.

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