Goddamn you, Henry. This was Tom"s first thought upon seeing his brother for the first time in 43 years. He watched his brother get out of the yellow Buick and approach the house. Tom had been sitting in a chair on the porch, reading a Harlan Coben book. He set the book down and stood, steeling himself for confrontation.
Goddamn you, Henry.“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked. “Do I need to go get my gun?”
Tom looked at him with tired eyes and held his palms up. “No, brother. I came to bury the hatchet.”
Tom wasn"t convinced. “Where you gonna bury it? In my head?” He paused and then added, “You better not try anything.”
“Or what?” asked Henry, almost to the steps now. “You gonna fall down and break a hip?”
Tom muttered to himself and sat down. Henry made his way up the steps a
