My brother had already been crying for three days. From the day he was born, I�d never heard George cry�and I remember that day because it way my birthday, only six years later. His voice would�ve sounded unfamiliar to me even if he hadn�t been crying. Since my graduation from high school ten years ago, we�d only flown the white flags to speak to each other every June 14th to exchange Happy Birthdays.
�It came Tuesday morning,� George said, choking out the words.
�Georgie, we�ve known he was dead since last Friday,� I said, annoyed I�d been woken up two hours after finishing my marathon shift at the hospital, �So you got a letter from him a few days later. What�s the biggie?�
I waited for George to respond, but there was just silence. I began to feel that George was trying to control our conversation by withholding his words, a favorite tactic of our father�s. The resentment festered as I waited for him to speak. Suddenly, I realized I didn�t want to hear George�s answer. After every one of Dad�s quiet condemnations, he unleashed a paragraph of accusations, and I expected nothing less from his son.
�Didn�t you get one, too?� he asked.
�Good Lord,� I said, feeling more awake, �Do you know how absurd that question sounds to me? I can count the number of times Dad wrote to me after I moved out on one finger. Even Mom had the sense not to send me a memorial notice.�
George was silent again.
�So what�s wrong, Georgie, did he get in the car accident on his way back from sending you a check? Don�t feel guilty. You were his favorite,� I said, hearing my father�s tone in my own, �That�s why he bought you a car for your sixteenth birthday even though his stocks had tanked, and he paid for your college after he retired, and he let you study music after he forced me to study��
�I always thought my greatest disappointment was that my first born was a girl, but at least she became a doctor,� George said in a dry voice, �I supported your choice to attend Johns Hopkins med school instead of Stanford, but now I find out that you really enrolled at the Peabody Conservatory. If you continue to study violin after this semester, I will not pay for your tuition��
I put the receiver under my pillow, pushed my face into the other side, and screamed until every bit of my breath disappeared into the feathers. Then, I heard George calling out to me from underneath.
�Sorry �bout that, Georgie. I had a primal moment.�
�Now I know how you felt when Dad threatened to cut you off if you didn�t��
�Oh my God,� I shouted, �You win! You even get to feel like me without being me�Who do you think Dad�s beneficiary is, Georgie?�
�Well, I hadn�t thought of it that way.�
�And why should you start now?�
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