A Perfect Pair

“I am going along with her insane little crusade. It’s enough to make you sick. You’re right. She is a very intelligent woman. So when I see her looking at men like they’re meat in a butcher shop, it’s—it’s embarrassing. And disgusting.”

“I think you’re making a big thing out of nothing.”

Nate turned to watch a police horse clop by, its head bobbing with pride. “Maybe I am. It was driving me nuts all day yesterday. But why should I be so upset? It’s her life, after all.”

“That’s right.” Derek crumpled up the two pieces of wax paper that came with his hot dogs. “In fact,” he said slowly, “maybe instead of criticizing Josey’s idea, you should take a cue from her.”

Nate’s head snapped around to catch a glimpse of Derek’s boyish, troublemaker’s grin. “And what’s that supposed to mean, oh older-and-always-wiser brother of mine?”

“Simple. Maybe you should start looking for someone to make you happy.”

“Who says I’m not happy?”

Derek shrugged. “Well, I just think—”

“Besides,” Nate interrupted, “I’m busy.” He stood, an abrupt movement that shook the bench. He waited a second for Derek to get up, too, then turned and started down the longer path to the station, where he could catch the T back to his downtown office. Derek fell into step beside him, the rubber soles of his sneakers silencing his footfalls, while Nate’s loafer heels announced his.

“Yeah, you’re busy, all right,” Derek said in a mocking tone. “Busy taking care of everybody. Protecting the world from bad guys, not to mention trying to protect me from malnutrition and burnout. You’re trying like hell to take care of Josey, too, and you’re annoyed she doesn’t listen to your wisdom. You’re so busy taking care of everyone else on this planet you have no time for you. Or for a girlfriend. Is that it?”

“I’d say that’s pretty close, yeah. Girlfriends are a lot of work.”

“You love work.”

“No, Derek. What I mean is, every thirty-year-old woman out there is looking for a commitment. Now Josey is part of that group, too. I don’t want to get involved in that mess. I don’t want all that.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes, it is true. I don’t want a family. I don’t want children. I refuse to have children. And what’s more, you of all people ought to understand the reason for that.”

Derek moved off the path then, to where some fraternity-type guys were playing baseball on a fenced-in Little League field. Nate followed, and leaned on the fence next to his brother. He kept his eyes on the game but directed his comments to Nate. “Can’t you let it go? It’s over, Nate. It’s been over for years. Dad can’t hurt us now.”

“You’re wrong. Dad’s not here, but we’re still his blood. And deep down, we’re like him, dammit. We think we’re not, but we are. It’s inborn.”

“No, Nate. We’re different from him. We chose to leave. I went through it all, too. He was wrong, he was a horrible person. But he was him. I’m me, and I can choose to be a good person. So can you. Don’t deny yourself a life because you think you’re like him. You can have a wife, a family—”

“I’m through talking about this, Derek. Maybe you should study psychology and other forms of brain scrambling instead of news reporting.”

Derek faced him then, and his voice became a little sharper, a little harder. “You’re not like him,” he repeated. “And look what you’re doing to yourself. You’re letting this get in the way of you and Josey.”

Nate found it difficult to stare into the only pair of eyes that had seen what he had. He sighed and moved to the path again. They walked in silence for a few minutes before he said, “You’re right. Maybe that’s it. To be honest, I thought of that earlier today. I’m jealous of Josey chasing this dream of hers. It’s a normal dream, a normal goal everyone has, and I’m jealous because it’s something I can’t have.”

“That’s not really what I mean.”

They arrived at the Green Line T stop, and Nate fished in his pocket for change. “What do you mean?”

“I meant, you and Josey…” Derek shook his head. “Never mind. Just try not to give her a hard time. Like you said, it’s only natural for her to want to start a family. She doesn’t need crap from you.”

“The kind of crap I give you?”

“I’m your brother. I have to take it.”

Nate yanked open the subway entrance door. “I’ll drop by your place Thursday.”

“I know.” Derek walked away, but Nate heard him mutter. “Creature of habit.”

Josey was sitting at her desk, her head bent over math papers, when she heard footsteps in the hallway approaching her room, which was at the very end. All the female teachers’ heels had that authoritative sound, but these steps were slower and harder. A man’s dress shoes, Josey guessed, not taking her eyes off the current paper. She stopped pondering the topic when she realized she had marked seven out of ten answers as wrong. She glanced at the name on top. Jason, she thought, what is the matter with you? You came for extra help last week….

The “Hi” from the doorway startled her. She turned with a gasp and saw Nate standing there. She let all her breath out in an audible whoosh and bent to the floor, groping around with her fingers for the red pen she’d dropped.

“Nate!” she gasped. “Way to scare a person. Sneaking up on me.”

“Sorry, teach,” Nate said in a sheepish student’s voice.

“That’s just not enough,” Josey replied haughtily. “Go stand in the corner.”

He pretended to head to a corner, then stopped. “Do you really make kids stand in the corner?”

“I’m usually a little bit more creative than that,” Josey said, retrieving her pen from where it had landed near her foot.

“What do you do?”

“Oh, if I catch you passing a note, I tack it up to the bulletin board behind me here, so everyone in the class can read it at their leisure.”

“Harsh.”

“If I catch you chewing gum, I make you stick it on your nose.”

“Gross.”

“And if I catch you cheating, I make you write an essay about how brilliant the student is that you were trying to cheat off of.”

“Wow. You would have been my most hated teacher. I did all those things. Except the cheating, of course.”

“I’ll bet.”

“But come to think of it, all my teachers were old hags.”

“Nate!”

“They were. I probably would have had a big crush on you, though.”

An unexpected flush of embarrassment swept over Josey. “Nate, all your teachers were probably my age. They just seemed like old hags to you at age eight.”

“Untrue. I caught my second-grade teacher cleaning her dentures once.”

“You did not!”

“I swear it.” He pushed a student’s chair out from a tiny desk and tentatively sat down in it. Apparently deciding the short metal legs would hold him, he relaxed.