Parallel

swing. “Last Thanksgiving, I mean. The last memory I have is from the night before.”
    Josh’s expression darkens. “Michael acted like Michael.” He glances over at me. “However he is with you, he’s different with us. Ever since our dad died.” Josh looks out at the water. “Last Thanksgiving was a new low. He said some really awful things to Martin at the table, and my mom just let him.” What kind of things? I want to ask, but can’t. “That was it for me,” he says. “I didn’t want anything to do with him after that.” Josh looks over at me, his eyes sad. “In the driveway yesterday, with you . . . that was the first time I’d seen him in a year.”
    “Some reunion,” is all I can muster.
    We’re quiet for a long time, letting the wind, even colder coming off the water, rock us back and forth. I lean my head back against the cool wood, examining the muted gray of the sky. “I was in L.A. when the collision happened,” I say after a while. “Shooting a movie, actually.” I look over at Josh. “In the real version, I didn’t take that astronomy class with you. I took drama and ended up in L.A.” I look back up at the sky. “It seems so crazy to me now, my life out there. So far away.”
    “I wonder if we would’ve met,” Josh says thoughtfully, pushing off the ground hard with his feet. “If you hadn’t been in my class last year. Maybe we would’ve run into each other at some coffee shop in Hollywood.”
    I smile. “Maybe so.”
    We’re swinging in earnest now, the old rusty chain clanking on its hook above our heads. “Aren’t you freezing?” I ask him, zipping his fleece up to my neck.
    “Nope,” he says, pumping his legs to get us going higher.
    “I don’t think this is the kind of swing you’re supposed to do that with,” I say, eyes on the clanging hook.
    “I’m pretty sure you’re right,” he replies, pumping harder, his cheeks pink from the cold.
    I giggle, pulling my knees up to my chest. A few seconds later, he does the same. We’re moving so fast that the swing jerks at each end, nearly knocking me off each time. I reach for the armrest.
    “Wimp!” Josh shouts. “Where’s the Abby I know?”
    We look at each other, and wonder.
    Michael calls as I’m pulling into the garage.
    “Hey,” I say, answering it. “How’s Boston?” From all the commotion in the background, I can tell he’s at a bar.
    “Awesome!” he bellows. I wince and pull the phone away from my ear, noticing that my battery is almost dead. “We’re pre-partying at Sullivan’s Tap!”
    “Tell Sullivan I said hi.”
    “No, no!” he yells. “Sullivan isn’t a person . Sullivan’s Tap is the name of a bar near the Garden.”
    “Yeah, I figured that. It was a joke.”
    “Oh! Right.” Michael laughs. “So how are things down there?”
    “Things are fine. I just miss you.” It’s only been seven hours since I dropped him off at the airport, but it feels like seven days. Hanging out with Josh was fun, but being with him has left me unsettled. All my parallel has to do is stop by his house tomorrow and my relationship with Michael will be over.
    “I miss you, too.” Michael says. “I wish you were here.”
    “Me, too,” I say, my throat suddenly tight.
    “Carpenter!” I hear a male voice shout. “Car bombs. Pronto!”
    “Call you tomorrow?” Michael asks.
    “Sure,” I say, making the effort to sound upbeat. But he’s already gone.
    My mom is sitting at the kitchen table, working a crossword puzzle, when I come in.
    “Hi, honey,” she says. “How’d it go?”
    “As well as it could have, I guess. Is there pie?”
    “In the fridge,” she tells me, putting her pencil down. “So you got him to talk to you?”
    “Yeah. We went for a walk.” I spot the pie behind a gallon of milk and pull both out of the refrigerator. My mom stares me down as I cut myself a slice.
    “Mom. What?”
    “Did you really not know that Michael was his brother?”
    I contemplate continuing the truth trend, but know that will add a level of complexity to my life that I don’t need right now. “I really didn’t,” I tell her. “Since Michael never mentioned a brother, it honestly didn’t cross my mind that he might have one.”
    “And you never thought to look up Josh’s brother when you got to school? Josh didn’t suggest it?”
    “Josh asked me not to,” I tell her, with a hunch that this might be true.
    “Not an especially good relationship, is it?” she muses,