Jake passed Brian’s closed door on his way to his room. He resisted the urge to knock on the door and kept on going. He had to force himself not to check in on his nephew. He steeled his resolve. He had someone waiting downstairs and didn’t believe he had anything to feel guilty about. After brushing his teeth and getting the smell of onions off his hands and face, Jake dressed in a crisp dress shirt and his good jeans. He was about to dab aftershave on his chin when he sensed a presence hovering at the door.
“You’ve never been good at hovering,” Jake said.
Brian pushed away from the door and walked into the room. He stood again looking listless before creasing Jake’s made up bedspread, and Jake had no problem with it.
Before he could say anything else Brian beat him to it. “I’m sorry,
