Page 119 of Hard Count
He closed his eyes. He opened them.
“I’m going upstairs with this bottle of Chardonnay.”
***
Piper didn’t leave his bedroom for hours.
He was lying on top of the comforter in his clothes from the day before. The lights were off. The blinds were drawn. He was looking at the ceiling.
At nine o’clock, Tank came up the stairs.
Piper heard him on each step. Tank did not come up the stairs quietly.
Tank stopped at the bedroom door.
“You up?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
Tank came in. He walked around to the side of the bed and sat on the edge of it, not touching Piper, not facing him, just sitting there with his back to the headboard and his feet on the floor. Hewas holding two beers. He set one of them on the nightstand. He opened his own.
Then he said, “You want to hear something?”
“Not really.”
“I’m going to tell you, anyway.”
“Okay.”
Tank took a long drink of his beer.
“My brother Jamal.”
Piper turned his head.
“Yeah?”
“You met him in Atlanta.”
“Yeah.”
“He lives with me now.”
Piper said nothing.
Tank said, “He moved in a few days ago. Drove out from Atlanta in a Honda. The week between him telling the family he was gay and them telling him he could not be that and live in the house. Nineteen years old. Best brother ever. I wasn’t going to tell you any of this, but I’m telling you now because you need to hear this.”
Piper paused.
“You were wondering,” Tank said.
“I was wondering.”
“I could tell you were wondering.”
