by Elise Artez
Copyright 2012 Elise Artez
My Brother, My Soldier
I didn’t know what to think when I got the call.
It was six in the evening and I’d just gotten home from work after a long security shift. I was about to scour the pantry for something quick to cook when my cell rang. Seeing my mom’s number wasn’t unusual, but it’d been about a week since she’d called me. Likely just checking in, so I put her on speaker and continued my search.
“Hey, Ma,” I greeted, reaching for a box of pasta.
“Hello, Eric. Are you at home?”
Her voice was hushed and a little shaky but I didn’t think much of it, crossing the small kitchen to grab a pot and fill it with water. “Yeah, I just got home. What’s up?”
“What are you doing?”
I rolled my eyes. “Invited everybody on my floor over. We’re cooking up some opium before we have a massive orgy.” Silence hung on the line and I sighed. “I’m fixing dinner, Mom. What’s this about?”
She’d always been invasive and overprotective but never to the point of asking me about every move I made. And given the fact that she hadn’t even been calling every day, I wondered what could have her suddenly bothering me now.
“I told you not to joke about things like that, Eric. You’re as bad as your father.”
I hid a groan under my breath. “Did you really call me to complain about my dad?”
She paused for a moment and I could imagine her putting three fingers to her head like she always did when she was stressed the fuck out. “It’s about Jason.”