nose until I look away. Sheâs the lone person I can look in the eye these days, but even so, in twenty-nine years, Iâve never outstared her.
âOh shit, you really did!â she shouts gleefully. âNo wonder I couldnât get you on the phone. You were boning the horny hausfrau!â
âKeep it down, will you?â I say, looking around the street.
But Claireâs enjoying this too much. âDougie, you slut!â
I lean back on the porch swing, shaking my head. âWhat gave it away?â
âElementary, little brother,â she says, sitting down next to me. âThereâs lipstick on your ear, your T-shirt is on inside out, and youâve got a world-class case of bed head.â
âCome on,â I say skeptically. âI always look like this.â
âWell, then, I guess youâll have to reconsider the twin telepathy thing.â She grabs some Capân Crunch from my box and starts shoveling it into her mouth. âYou and the meatloaf babe,â she says, starting to laugh. âThat is just too funny.â
âHysterical.â
Her laugh tapers off and she rests her head on my shoulder, which means she has something to tell me. Whenever sheâs stressing, thatâs what she does, and over the years, her head has carved out its own little spot there, like water dripping onto a rock for a hundred years. I always imagine that we must have floated that way in the uterus, and in times of stress itâs our version of the fetal position. âGood for you,â she says softly, rubbing the fleshy part of my hand between her thumb and forefinger. âI think itâs a big step.â
âItâs adultery.â
âYouâre not married.â
âShe is.â
âWith all of your problems, youâre going to start worrying about hers now?â She licks her finger and wipes something, probably some of Laneyâs lipstick, off my cheek.
âItâs my problem too.â
âWrong. Your problem is that you stopped living when Hailey died. An emerging sex drive is the first positive sign weâve seen in a long time. Itâs not a problem, itâs cause for celebration, is what it is. I canât wait to tell Mom.â
I laugh, but then quickly say, âYouâre joking, right?â If thereâs one thing you can be sure of with Claire, itâs that you can never be too sure.
âWeâll see how nice you are to me,â she says with a shrug. âSo how was it?â
âI donât know. I think Iâm still in shock.â
âDougie, Dougie, Dougie. When will you learn to keep your brain out of your bone?â She sighs. âSometimes I think I should have been the boy.â
âSometimes I think you are.â
âWhich actually provides a convenient segue to our next topic.â
âWhich is?â
âIâm pregnant.â
That puts some lift in my eyelids. âThatâs great, Claire. Congratulations.â
She nods against my shoulder. âThanks.â
Then she says nothing, but I can feel her muscles flexing like springs under her skin, her breath short and quick. We just sit there for a few minutes, staring into the yard. Thereâs a gray rabbit nibbling on the grass in the shadow of the hedges. Out of range. âThereâs more,â I say.
âYup.â
I think about it for a minute. âStephen.â
She looks up at me, smiling even as a lone tear emerges from the corner of her eye and slides across the bridge of her nose. âAnd you said we donât have telepathy.â
Then she stands up, shaking it off, and heads for the front door. âDo you have anything to eat in here? Iâm starving.â
I get up to follow her in, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I notice that the gray rabbit has wandered within striking distance of the porch. âHello, Bugs,â I say under my breath, keeping one eye on