In the middle of the week I got a disturbing message from my sister. She wanted to know if I’d been part of a joke gift my parents had given her over Christmas. They’d gifted her this stupid shirt that basically called her a quitter. When she asked me if I’d been part of that gag gift, I realized that I might be dropping the ball on this whole brother thing. There’s no way in a million years I’d ever want her to think I’d give her something as insulting as that.

The expo she’s participating in is coming up on Friday and Saturday, and I realize that I need to make an effort for her. So, come Thursday afternoon, I pack a bag and head to Jersey. She doesn’t need to face down our parents alone the night before the biggest professional engagement of her life.

The drive is trafficky, but almost meditative for me. I concentrate on the cars around me, the route, and for once my brain doesn’t obsessively track back to Jessie. Of course, once I park in my parents’ driveway, I immediately check my phone, see absolutely nothing from her, and I’m plummeted back into the world of Why. It’s the name of the planet I’ve been living on. I’ll make sure they carve that word on my tombstone. Why is the worst word in history. It’s an asshole stalker and won’t leave me alone. Sure, it’s cute if you’re in the middle of reading a mystery novel. Or halfway through a movie. When you can be certain that all of your whys are about to get turned into ohhhhhs. But right now, all signs point to never understanding Jessie. And I just have to make my peace with that and move the hell on.

I have to come back to earth. Where the people who love me and need me live. Like my sister. I take a deep breath, grab my stuff from the backseat, and head inside.

As I quietly kick off my shoes in the foyer of my childhood home, I can hear my mother gently nagging Vera in the kitchen. As she always does, Vera is joking back at my mother. Teasing her, lightening the mood, deflecting the seriousness, never showing how much my mother’s attitude hurts her.

When I step into the kitchen, a smile on my face and a six-pack of beers in my hand, I decide I’ve definitely made the right choice to show up in Jersey. Vera’s expression makes the whole thing worth it. She looks like she was seconds away from drowning and I just tossed her a gigantic rubber ducky. She practically launches herself across the room at me.