Free My Best Friend's Brother by Chrissy Fanslau Page B

my daughter and I wanted to see her. Now put those away and start peeling some potatoes, will you?” She looked at me. “Why don’t you show Luke around the house?”
    “Now wait a minute,” Dad said, pointing at me. “She’s still punished. He kept her out until nearly midnight, Mary.”
    Mom turned to him and crossed her arms. “She’s had five days of punishment. I’m home for a week and I’d like to have a good time. Leave punishment at that.”
    “It won’t happen again, Dad,” I assured him. Luke nodded in agreement.
    Dad sighed. There was a lot of tension in the room, I could feel it all. Dad’s glares made me cringe. But he finally uttered, “Fine. Show Luke around the living room.” He looked at me sternly. “ Just the living room.”
    We left my parents in the kitchen and headed for the living room.
    “So,” I started after an awkward moment, “this is our couch,” I said with a hand gesture, “our coffee table… and our television.”
    Luke laughed. “Got it! Thanks!”
    We spent the next two hours on the couch, watching a corny rental Sullivan picked up on the way home—a “scary movie” called Kill Me that wasn’t even scary. It’s about a dumb blonde who looks up serial killers in police databases and mails them letters daring them to kill her. The story’s stupid and the acting was atrocious.
    Dinner was at six. Mom made mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey drumsticks, salad, and cranberry sauce. I assumed from the meal Mom would not be home for Thanksgiving, which really sucked. But she promised she’d be home this Christmas, so I’m hoping she’ll stick to her promise this year.
    Luke sat across from me—between Dad and Sullivan—and Mom sat to my left, next to Dad. We ate in silence for a while. Sullivan probably would’ve talked, but I gave him a killer look every so often, to keep his trap shut.
    “So Luke,” Mom finally said, “where are you going to college?”
    Luke swallowed his salad. “I’m not going to college right after I graduate.”
    Dad shot Mom a look and dug into his mashed potatoes.
    “So what will you do?” Mom asked.
    “I’m training for the Olympics. I want to be a professional alpine skier.”
    Dad grimaced. “How close to Olympics material are you?”
    Luke cleared his throat. “Pretty close. I’ve won several national awards, and beat a record for the longest U.S. ski jump last year. It was a trip, and it won me ten grand. But alpine skiing is my passion, not jumping.”
    My parents exchanged looks. Neither of them really knew what he was talking about. “How long was the jump?” Dad pried, and began devouring his turkey leg.
    “Ninety meters,” Luke said. “Just under three hundred feet.”
    “So while you’re training, what will you do for a steady paycheck, Luke?” Mom wiped her mouth and sat up straight again, as she was slouching about a centimeter. It’s cool that Mom lets us talk at the dinner table now; a few years back, when she was around more, we had to eat in utter silence. I guess we have to talk at the table now or she’d be oblivious about what is going on in our house.
    “I plan to be a ski instructor,” Luke replied.
    More silence.
    Luke and I exchanged looks. I didn’t want to ask any cheesy questions I already knew the answers to just to get a conversation going—what would my parents possibly be interested in hearing, anyway?
    “How’s Lilly?” Mom suddenly asked.
    I sighed. “She’s in Florida. She’s never in her hotel room, so I wouldn’t really know.”
    Luke rubbed his forehead. He suddenly looked flushed.
    “That must be a nice switch from this weather. Not too hot, either. Didn’t you say on the phone her brother was moving in with her? Or something like that. Remember, about two weeks or so ago?” Mom took another bite of salad and dabbed her mouth with the napkin.
    I nodded. “He did, though I haven’t met him.” I looked at Luke. “Luke, are you okay?”
    “Excuse me,” he wheezed, and