I look around, �Where�s Matt?�
Mom looks up from whatever she�s cooking and waves her hand, �Oh, oh,� she says with the little sound of disappointment in her voice, �he�s outside reading.� She shakes her head slightly and looks back down at the stove.
I walk though the open sliding glass doors and see my brother with his book on his chest lying on his back and looking at the sun with his wheelchair next to him. I sit in the grass next to him and say hi. He acknowledges me by making a little �mmm...�
On his chest is Generation X by Douglass Coupland.
�Why are you reading that?� I ask nodding toward his book, �you�re not a Gen. X-er. How do you have any idea what he�s talking about?�
Mathew shrugs and says, �I bet I�d like it a lot more if I was a Gen. X-er but he makes some great social commentary and there�s some stuff I can relate to.�
�What�s it about?� I�m trying to make conversation with him but it�s hard to do because he hates talking so much.
�There�s not really a set plot,� He says, �but it�s about these three people, who are all friends and they�ve realized that life isn�t what they always thought it would be and they�re just kinda trying to figure out how they fit into the world.� He sighs and adds, �It sounds like it really sucks when you talk about it but it�s a good book.� Then there is silence between us. I wonder if he feels like he should be talking too, if we are both feeling this awkwardness or if it�s just me.
He sighs again and tells me, �Mom�s mad at me.� He looks up at me for a second.
�Why?� I ask looking away from him as he looks at me.
�Because I can�t walk.� We don�t say anything after this for a long time. I want to tell him that he�s being silly, that Mom�s not mad at him for getting hit by a car a few years ago but that�s a lie and we both know it. I shake my head and shrug.
�Hey boys,� My dad says from behind us as he comes outside with a Coke in his hands. My brother rolls his eyes but I smile and get up to give Dad a hug.
�Happy forty-sixth.� I say to him.
He has this wide fake smile and says, �Am I really that old?� and chuckles. My bother rolls his eyes and shakes his head as if to say, �Oh, come on.�. Luckily, my dad can�t see Mathew�s face.
My dad is so fake and it drives me crazy. It seems everything he says is like what a �good dad� would say in movies. He makes me want to grab him by his shoulders, shake him and scream, �Who are you really!�
�What were my two favorite sons talking about?� He sits in the bench next to where Mathew is lying.
�Nothing, Dad.� Matt says as he folds down the page in his book and puts it into a bag hanging from his chair. He pulls himself to his wheelchair then pulls himself into it.
�I�m going inside.� He says, �Hopefully my presence doesn�t upset our mother too much.�
I don�t say anything but my dad pats my brother on the back and says, �oh she�s just flustered today, don�t pay her any attention.� I don�t think my dad really knows he�s lying or is making a conscious decision to be fake. Eventually we all become what my Mom wants us to be. My brother still holds on desperately to himself but I�ve started to give up. I need my parents.
�How are your meetings with Dr. Smith?� Dad asks me as I sit down next to him and he puts his arm around me. I can tell he wants to get honest with me in his pretend way.
�They�re good,� I tell him, �they�re really good.�
He nods and says, �Yeah, he helped me get over my alcohol addiction and taught me to be honest with myself.� My mom picked Dr. Smith for my dad and then for me later on.
�How�s your head?� Dad asks me as he puts his hand on my head and messes up my hair.
I frown and say, �It�s fine.�
�That�s good� Dad takes a sip from his Coke, �I�m glad you came up here today. I just want to spend as much time with you as possible but I don�t want to smother you. Susan has a way of smothering people and I know nobody likes it. I don�t want to be like Susan.� Both my parents do it. They have to remind my brother and I of everything we hate and feel sad about over and over.
About a year ago, I started having these awful headaches. For a long time I ignored them but they continued for a long time, gradually worsening. So finally, I went to the doctor. I had a tumor in my brain. When I went to the doctor it was too late, cancer had already spread. After I told my parents, my mom set me up with meetings with Dr. Smith so I could learn �how to deal�.
�Don�t think about that,� I tell him looking away and trying to think of a reason to leave him, �it�s you�re birthday. Are you going to be golfing much this year?�
Dad ignores my question. �You know, something Dr. Smith taught me was not to hide my feelings and to say what I really feel.� He puts his arm around my shoulder again and pulls me close to him, �And I don�t give a damn whether it�s my birthday or not, Elijah. I�m sad about this and all I�m saying is that I want to spend more time with you because you never know.� He shakes his head and his eyes are rimmed with tears, �You�re just too young. You are so young.�
�I�m going to go help mom in the kitchen.� I get up and leave him with his eyes still glassy and this look on his face that like he�s trying to think of what he said that was so wrong.