“Edie?” a voice called from above our heads. It was Gustav, the nice, Swedish caretaker who was assigned to Theo. He was waving at me, standing on the other end of the reception—not the entrance, the exit to the picnic area, with the door open. “He is waiting for you. Come on.”

The one thing I was worried about was that Trent wouldn’t be able to understand Theo. His speech was slurred and slow, so you really had to pay attention to know what he was saying, but Trent and Theo clicked immediately.

Trent behaved as if Theo was just a normal twelve-year-old boy. We were sitting at a picnic table under the sun, with Gustav pretending like he wasn’t watching the exchange and coloring a Harry Potter coloring book with a frown. Theo was wearing a Chicago Bears ball cap, a Ren and Stimpy T-shirt, and a smile.

“No, man, no. You can’t root for the Chicago Bears living in California. That’s just not acceptable.” Trent shook his head, leaning across the picnic table, talking animatedly to my brother.

“Y-y-yes, I can. M-m-mike G-g-glennon is God.” Theo slammed the table with his open palm a little too roughly. Gustav and I were used to it, we knew better than to flinch, but the great thing was that Trent wasn’t fazed by it, either. Trent waved his hand around impatiently, rolling his eyes and not doing the polite, whatever-you-say fake shit people usually did in front of Theo.

“Jesus. No. Where is this coming from? Next thing, you’ll tell me you like Tom Brady.”

Theo laughed. For all the love that we’d shared, I couldn’t talk to him about boy stuff to save my life. And he didn’t care about surfing, because he hardly ever saw the ocean, living in a group home for so long. The simple fact that Trent related to him had his face glowing.

“I, I, I like T-t-tom B-brady!” he exclaimed, ecstatic.

“Yeah, well, I think it’s time for me to barf. Where’s the bathroom around here?” Trent made a show of looking around, using his hand as a visor from the sun. He made it a point not to wear his Wayfarers while he was talking to my brother. He gave him eye contact. That was amazing.

Gustav pointed behind him, to one of the small cabins circling the picnic area. There were many families sitting at the tables with food and soda, talking and laughing. For the first time in years, we looked like one of those families. It wasn’t just Theo and me. There was someone else, too. And it both killed and revived me.

When Trent left, Theo’s smile widened.

“W-who is he?”

I gave him a mean side-eye. Special or not, Theo was still my little brother, which meant he could still be a huge pain in the butt.

“He works with Jordan. I babysit his daughter sometimes. She’s really cool. How are you doing, dude?”

Theo shrugged. “G-g-good. Y-you d-didn’t come yesterday.”

Guilt choked me. I was ashamed to tell him the truth, but then, some people you couldn’t lie to. He deserved better than the half-lies I spat on autopilot to my father.

“Trent asked me to help him with Luna. She doesn’t really talk, so sometimes she needs reassuring company when she goes places.”

“A-a-always saving p-people.” My younger brother grinned, his blond hair and blue eyes reminding me of my mother’s ice queen features. I wondered how she could turn her back on someone who looked like a carbon copy of her. Theo was a little heavy from lack of activity—he really hated working out, but other than that, he looked like Lydia Van Der Zee’s mini-me.

Trent got back to the table ten minutes later, dumping what looked like a whole junk food aisle from Safeway onto the table.

“They only had sandwiches and soda in the cafeteria, and no offense, Theo, but the food here looks like some sort of a medieval punishment, but I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, I could eat just about anything right now,” I said. Trent gave Gustav, Theo, and me our sandwiches and opened all of the bags of chips.

After lunch, they bickered more about football, then Trent and Theo arm-wrestled. Trent let him win once, and for that, I wanted to kiss him openly and wildly. Theo had a small meltdown when Gustav hinted at us having to leave, but once he settled and we said our goodbyes, we were out the door and walking to Trent’s car. I felt emotionally drained but also recharged and full at the same time.

We didn’t speak until he reached the traffic light onto a road leading to downtown San Diego. His Wayfarers were on and he looked cool as a cucumber.

“Saint John’s?” he inquired, confirming the hospital was our next destination. I didn’t get it. Why was he doing it? Standing by my side, like he could get something out of it.