“First of all, I’m not blowing it off. I’ll pick it up over the weekend. Second, what do you know about what we can afford?”

Nick gave him a look. “I do the bookkeeping.”

“For the business. Not for the family.”

“What’s the difference?”

Michael laughed. “A lot. If we only had the business to live on, I’d be worried.”

“We don’t?”

“No.” His brother frowned. “Have you been worried about that?”

“About how we were going to get through the winter? Yeah.”

Michael winced. “Look, we’ll be okay through the winter. Mom and Dad had life insurance, and there’s not a lot left, but there’s some. I try not to touch it, because I never know when we’ll have a real emergency, but it’s more than enough to fill in the cracks. Besides, Dad always said to have three months in savings as a reserve, so I’ve got that, too.”

Nick stared at him.

“What?” said Michael.

“Nothing.” Nick rubbed at the back of his neck. For months, he’d worried about the finances, had felt a personal obligation to make sure the business brought in as much cash as possible. He’d seen the bottom line of the business creep closer and closer toward the red as they took bigger jobs and needed more supplies. He’d worried about college and leaving his brothers without help.

He’d had no idea that Michael had a safety net.

“I wish you’d said something,” said Michael.

“I didn’t want to stress you out.”

“Please. That’s like a constant state of being.”

The waitress brought their drinks, followed by the basket of onion rings and the steamed shrimp that Michael had ordered for appetizers.

Nick stared at the food and realized he was starving.

“Go ahead,” said Michael. “I knew you’d change your mind once it was in front of you.”

Nick grabbed a shrimp and started peeling. It felt better to have something to do with his hands. At least he couldn’t check his phone every ten seconds.

“Sometimes I forget,” Michael said slowly while peeling his own shrimp, “that you’re the same age as Gabriel, and not the same age as me.”

“You mean, aside from the fact that we’re identical and all?”

Michael gave him a rueful look. “No, I mean sometimes I forget that you’re still just as much a kid as he is.”

Nick peeled another shrimp and didn’t say anything to that.

“That’s not an insult,” said Michael.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Actually . . .” began Michael—but he stopped there. He ran a hand across his newly short hair. Gabriel had asked him when he was shipping out, but Nick liked it. It made Michael look older, more serious and less angry.

Nick hadn’t said so. Stupidly, he felt like any acknowledgment of a guy’s looks would show his hand.