Josh looks past me, toward the house. His eyes grow a little wider, prompting me to turn and look.

Tim is outside, making his way from the front door to his truck. Josh and I watch in mutually stunned silence.

He looks fragile—older and smaller. Or maybe that’s because I’m no longer a kid.

He’s swigging from the last of a beer can when he opens the front door to his truck. He tosses the empty can into the bed and then leans inside his cab in search of something.

“I don’t know what to do,” Josh whispers. He seems all of the twelve years old that he is right now. It kind of breaks my heart to see him so nervous. Josh’s eyes are pleading for truth when he looks back at me, like he needs me to guide him in this moment.

I’ve never said a bad word about Tim to Josh, but knowing I’m not being completely honest with him about my feelings feels like I’m doing a disservice to him as a brother. Maybe my silence on the matter is more damaging than my truth would be.

I sigh and set my phone down, giving this moment my full attention. Not that it didn’t have my full attention before, but I was trying to give Josh space. It doesn’t seem like he wants it, though. He wants brutal honesty, and what else is an older brother good for if not for that?

“I don’t know my dad,” I admit. “I know his name, but that’s about it. Sutton said he left when I was young, probably about the same age you were when Tim left. It used to bother me, not knowing my father. I used to worry about him. I imagined there was something awful that was keeping him away, like he was locked up in a prison somewhere on a wrongful conviction. I used to come up with these wild scenarios that would excuse how he could know I existed but not be in my life. Because what kind of man could have a son and not want to know him?”

Josh is still staring across the yard at Tim, but I can see that he’s soaking up every word I’m saying.

“My father never sent a penny of child support. He never made an effort at all. My father never bothered to do a Google search, because if he had, he would have easily found me. Hell, you did that at the age of twelve. You found me, and you’re a kid. He’s a grown-ass adult.”

I move so that I have Josh’s full attention. “So is Tim. He is a capable, grown man, and if he cared about anything more than himself, he would have made an effort. He knows your name, he knows what city you live in, he knows how old you are.”

Josh’s eyes are starting to tear up.

“It blows my mind that this man has you for a son, and you want to be in his life, yet he still hasn’t made an effort. You’re a privilege, Josh. Believe me, if I’d known you existed, I would have knocked over buildings to find you.”