“I just think it’s weird, that’s all. I’ve always thought it was weird.”
My patience with his attitude was reaching its limit. I needed to know what was up with him. “So why the attitude with me?”
“Why your attitude with me?” Again, the disrespectful tone.
“You know, Brady, when Dad first called me, he said you wanted me to come.”
“So?”
I had the onion in my hand and I tossed it on the counter. It rolled into the sink.
“So why are you acting like you wish I weren’t here? Is it because you think the reason is for me to keep you from quitting the team?”
He didn’t answer, so I continued. “Because I have news for you, little brother. I’m not Dad. I don’t care what you do about football.”
Brady’s eyes flashed anger and then went steely cool. “You told Dad you’d do your best to make sure I didn’t quit.”
“No. I told him I would do my best to make sure you didn’t make a decision you would later regret. That happens, you know. If you want to be on the team, then I want you on the team. If you don’t want to be on the team, then that’s fine too. All I ask is that you think it over carefully before you make a decision that big.”
He narrowed his eyes and glared at me with suspicion. We were getting nowhere. If anything, the vibe between us now was worse than it had been the day before.
“Believe it or not,” I continued, “I want whatever you want. I want you to be happy and to make of your life what will bring you the most joy and to God the most honor.”
I could almost hear Daadi’s voice through my words, though when he spoke this way it felt comforting and wise. Out of my mouth, it just seemed to agitate Brady even further. He wouldn’t respond or even look at me.
“Do you think I’m lying to you?”
He shrugged, his lips pinched tightly together.
“You do. Why? When have I ever lied to you before?”
Brady picked up one of the library books. “Apparently, never.”
I blinked. “What does that mean, ‘Apparently, never’? You think I’ve been less than honest with you in the past?”
He opened the book and began to thumb through the pages. It took supreme effort not to pull it from his hands and send him to bed without dinner. That’s what Daadi would have done. And maybe even our own father. But I wasn’t Brady’s grandfather or his father. I was his brother.
Half brother.
I prayed silently for wisdom to know what was eating away at him and how to draw it out so we could settle this once and for all.
“First of all,” I said, trying to keep the anger and frustration from my voice, “I have never, nor will I ever, lie to you. Second, if you want to quit the team, that’s fine. I’ll stand with you. It’s your life and your future.”
He put the book down. “I never told Dad I wanted to quit the team.”
“But he said—”
“Maybe you should ask me what I said.”
He had me there. It hadn’t been my intention to begin this conversation in this way. “You’re right. I was going to ask you tonight over dinner how you were feeling about being on the team. I did this all wrong. Can we start over?”
Brady shook his head and laughed as though I still didn’t get it. “Not that it’s truly any of your business, Tyler, but I happen to like football. What I don’t like is Dad needing to cram his dreams for greatness down my throat. And if my playing football is going to bring out the worst in him, then I am going to take up marching band. Because I am telling you right now, I will not spend the next three years and then the next four years and then who knows how many years after that in the NFL, should I get lucky enough to play for them, being Dad’s…never mind.”
And there it was. As I’d suspected, Dad really was coming down way too hard on his younger son. Before I could think of how to respond, Brady continued.
“Just forget it. Look, I have no plans to quit the team. At least not while you’re here. But if I do, it’s my decision to make. And mine to regret, for that matter. See, I do understand the consequences and I do take them seriously. Okay?”
“Okay.” I was quiet for a moment. “But even if you stay on the team, you really need to talk to Dad about this when he gets home.”
Brady rolled his eyes. “I already have. He doesn’t get it.”
“What if you and I talked to him together?”
He barked out a laugh.
“I’m serious, Brady. Once he returns, I think the three of us should sit down and discuss this whole issue. Calmly and respectfully. Trust me. He already knows you’re not happy with him right now. And I’ll be there beside you to back you up.”