My honest-to-mercy long lost brother Blake just called.
We haven’t had any contact since I was, mm, twelve? Thirteen?
I turned my second alarm off, considered going back to sleep another twenty minutes, and the phone rang.
A voice surprisingly like Cale was there, “Is this Jhayne Holmes?”
Yes, it is.”
“Is your father named D—?”
Unwilling to admit such a thing to any stranger, I ask, “Ah, why would that be, particularly?”
“My name is Blake, I’m looking for my family.”
I’ve never actually leapt out of bed before.
“Jesus christ! How old are you now?”
“Nineteen.”
“Where are you!?”
Turns out he’s in town, visiting. I’m going to meet him ASAP at Waterfront Station.