“Can you just start at the beginning?” I elbow Aubrey and give her a hard look, hoping she’ll take the hint and hold back instead of pelting Dana with questions.
“Look,” says Dana. “I have to be onstage in two hours. I have this whole routine I do before going on—get my som tam, chill backstage with the girls, play a hand of solitaire. It’s kind of my thing.”
“That’s fine,” I tell her. “Just the basics.”
Dana sighs. “I don’t know how to tell the basics without getting into the backstory,” she says. “I’m Charlie’s half brother. Obviously. Both Price parents are white as snow. I never knew my mom—she was probably some sex worker my dad knocked up while he was out here on business. I never really found out. Charlie’s parents—our dad and his mom—they’re a train wreck. I’m sure you know that if you’ve spent any time with them.” She looks to us for confirmation, and I nod. I actually have a soft spot for Charlie’s mom, who despite being super screwed up and depressed and boozy is a good person deep down.
Charlie’s dad, on the other hand, is a jerk, down to the core. Never there—and when he was, nothing was good enough. To me he was always engaging and friendly, but in a sort of fake way. Like you couldn’t tell what he was really thinking. Charlie’s mom had the shakes every time he was around. It was sad to see. It was something that always made me feel compassion for Charlie . . . until I realized belatedly that it probably also messed him up in ways that would affect me.
“So, all along I know I’m different, right?” Dana continues. “I know it, they know it, everyone knows it. I mean, I regularly raid my aunt’s closet, I clearly like boys, I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. It’s hard to explain to people who don’t get it. I referred to myself as Charlie’s sister. People were confused. Their friends thought it was weird. Charlie’s dad—our dad. Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve thought of him as my dad too.” It’s odd the way she stumbles over calling him her dad . . . but it occurs to me that when you’ve been ostracized, you have to cut yourself off emotionally.
“Anyway, our dad was gone all the time, totally uninvested in the whole family thing. They’re still married, but I guess it’s for appearance’s sake or some bullshit. His mom actually tried, when I came along—at least at first. Like really tried, took me in. Treated me like her own kid—this was back when she still had her shit semi-together. And then everything worsened between his mom and our dad, and I guess I reminded her of the things she was trying to forget—his string of affairs, the reason I was there in the first place. Her anxiety got worse, and she kind of cracked. She raised a huge fuss and said she couldn’t deal with me anymore, she had enough to handle, and my dad needed to be more present in my life. So I started to travel all over the world with him. I went to schools in the cities where he was stationed. He tried to instill some ‘real discipline,’ tell me how to walk, talk, dress.” Dana’s face darkens at the memory. “But at least he didn’t discipline me the way he did Charlie.”
“How did he discipline Charlie?” Aubrey asks.
“Charlie was tougher than me,” Dana says. “More rebellious, and he used to piss our dad off royally. I remember this one time when we were very little, Dad held Charlie’s head underwater in the bathtub for a really long time after Charlie misbehaved. Like, long enough that I was freaked out. I tried pulling my dad’s hands off him, but I was only, like, seven or something. I think I knew I couldn’t do anything. I remember feeling like Charlie was going to die and there was nothing I could do. Finally my dad let up, but he was laughing, like it was a big joke. He said he was teaching Charlie a lesson. It was fucking scary.”
“My god,” I whisper. I had no idea it was like that. Charlie never said. “Where was your mom?”