Kids These Days

Chapter 40: Finn

I see her in the mirror late that night. It's three in the morning, witching hour, and I'm getting a drink of water from the bathroom tap -- but when I look up, it's not my reflection in the glass. It's her's.

She has long, windblown amber hair, and dark eyes the color of desert blackbrush. Her mouth moves silently, forming words that I can't decide are supposed to be a threat or a lament: I'm still here.

I close my eyes and splash some cold water across my face. When I look up again, she's gone.

Leigh's presence is never too far away, though. She's become my shadow, as surely as the moon eclipses the sun.

***

The Twins ambush me in the living room, interrupting my euchre game with Henry. (Sure, he's a nuisance, but I'm bored, and he doesn't understand two-player dummy, so I might as well fleece him for all he's worth.)

"Look what we found," the Twins chant, in horror movie unison, after Henry excuses himself to get a beer. (He knows he's losing. Badly. I could take pity on him, but I won't.) "It's for your roommate."

Maggie holds up an envelope like a big game hunter showing off their kill. "Does the name Jesse Brooks ring a bell?"

It doesn't, at least not until I squint at the return address and see, scrawled in messy print, Manhattan, New York City. Then the memories from last summer come rushing back like I've opened up a floodgate.

Jesse. Did you like her a lot?

You know what? I did. I really liked her. For a long time, too. But that's all over now.

I don't have time to think about what any of this means before Maureen snatches the envelope away from her sister and tears it open.

"Dear, Ronan," she reads, in her best stage performer voice, "It's been a while since we last spoke, and I wanted to let you know that --"

"Stop!" I don't mean to shout, but the word charges out of my mouth like a bull elephant. Even the Twins look briefly caught off guard. "You can't -- you can't open someone else's mail! That's against the law!"

"We're nine," Maureen says.

"Yeah," says Maggie, backing her up with a smirk. "Are they gonna send us to jail?"

"Dad isn't even a cop anymore."

"We found the letter in the front yard. If your roommate didn't want us to read it, maybe he shouldn't have left it outside."

"Yeah, he was practically asking for someone to read it!"

"Give it back," I command, scattering the deck of cards as I spring to my feet. "Now."

"Or what?" Maureen scampers across the room to where a pile of cedar logs are crackling in the fireplace. It's only the afternoon, not cold enough for a fire, but Floyd claims it gives the house more "ambiance". "Would you rather watch it burn?"

Maureen dangles the letter over the fire, waiting for me to call her bluff.

"Listen here, you little miscreant," I say, stomping towards her, "that letter doesn't belong to you. Give it back, before you do something you regret."

"It doesn't belong to you, either," says Maggie, scrambling in front of me. "Why do you care so much about your roommate's letter?"

"He's a private person!"

"So mysterious," Maureen agrees, a devilish grin spreading across her face. "Don't you want to know his secrets? Aren't you dying to know what it says?"

"It's none of my business." I learned that lesson well enough last summer. I try to sidestep Maggie, but she's as quick as a flipper in a pinball machine. "This isn't funny! Don't you two have better things to do than read other people's mail?"

"Not really," Maggie says, shrugging. 

"Obstruction of Correspondence is one of our favorite hobbies, actually."

I try to shove past Maggie's blockade, but she's better at setting a pick than the Hoosier's Dean Garrett. Maureen keeps reading:

"I wanted to let you know that I miss you. New York isn't the same without you. Everything is changing, and not in a good way. There are rumors that Sabrina's company is in trouble for not filing their taxes correctly. Yesterday, I saw the FBI at --"

I've heard enough. I pick Maggie up and toss her onto the couch like a sack of potatoes, ignoring her protests of, "Hey! That is so not fair!", and make a desperate grab for the letter.

Maureen shrieks. She tries to yank the letter away, but instead, she lets go.

I stick my arm into the fireplace, flinching at the sudden burst of heat, but it's too late. The letter has already been engulfed in flames. There's nothing we can do but watch -- me, with horror; Maureen with barely concealed delight -- as Jesse's message vanishes up the chimney in a cloud of smoke.

"It was an accident!" Maureen cries, as I round on her, furious. "We didn't want to burn it, I swear, we were just trying to scare you --"

"Tell that to Ronan!"

Maggie leaps off the couch and rushes to her sister's side. "She's telling the truth. We only wanted to read a few sentences."

"And I already told you, it's none of your business!" I'm shouting again, but this time, I don't care who overhears. Maybe the rest of my family will finally see the shit I put up with. "All you two do is cause trouble! You're always meddling in my life!"

Maureen mutters something under her breath.

"What was that?" I demand.

"She said," Maggie interprets, "that it's the only way you'll let us be a part of it."

The three of us stand there in silence for a few seconds. Maureen sticks her grubby little hands into her pockets and scuffs at the cards on the floor; her sister holds my gaze, as if daring me to disagree. I don't know what to say. I'm still fighting the urge to punt Maureen like a soccer ball for destroying Ronan's letter.

"You've been ignoring us all summer," Maggie says plaintively. "I know you like Sarah more, but we're your sisters, too."

"Sarah isn't exactly in my good books right now." I glance over at Maureen, her stubborn expression as familiar as the back of my own hand. "There are easier ways of getting my attention than burning Ronan's mail, you know."

Maggie rolls her eyes. "Believe me, we've tried."

"You're clueless," Maureen says earnestly. 

"Hey, now --" I begin, but before I can seriously consider the soccer ball idea, Henry strolls back into the room with a Heineken.

"Everything alright in here?" he asks. And yet my sisters call me clueless!

"We were just about to bike into town," Maggie says, giving Maureen one of her unreadable looks that I'm sure must be twin telepathy. 

Maureen mimics tipping a hat at Henry. "Cheerio!"

"We don't actually say that," he protests, but the Twins are already gone.

Henry takes a puzzled sip of his beer, finally noticing the mess of cards on the floor. "What happened to our game?"

I sweep the cards into a pile, trying not to think about the first sentence that Maureen read. I wanted to let you know that I miss you...

"Finn? Are we still playing?"

"Just deal," I snap, ignoring the knowing stare of the Queen of Hearts as I shuffle her back into the deck.