My Brother Got Sick Before His Blind Date — So I Showed Up Instead

Part 2

I just stared at her from across the small table as the last few patrons shuffled out of the restaurant.

She leaned back in her chair and told me about the time I drove across town at eleven o’clock at night.

It was because a neighbor’s water heater broke and she didn’t know who else to call.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

I told her that wasn’t a big deal at all.

She smiled and said that was exactly what Craig told her I would say.

Then she told me about the Saturday I spent helping an elderly customer move heavy furniture.

The moving company had never shown up, and I happened to be nearby when she called the store in a panic.

I looked down at my hands, completely at a loss for words.

She softened her voice and told me that he was incredibly proud of me.

She said he was proud in the way people are when they have been paying close attention for a long time without you ever knowing it.

Growing up, Craig had always been the one people naturally noticed.

He was the one teachers mentioned at the end of the year.

He was the one coaches always wanted on their team.

He was the one who walked into a crowded room and already belonged before he even said a single word.

It had never once occurred to me to wonder whether he paid attention to me in that same direction.

Apparently, he did.

Megan watched my face process all of this in real time.

She pointed out that I genuinely hadn’t known he talked about me that way.

I admitted that I really hadn’t.

She smiled quietly, like she understood something profound about that admission.

I drove home that night with the windows rolled completely down.

The air was cool and smelled like the particular mix of pine and damp pavement that comes in late spring.

The radio stayed off the entire way back to our house.

Craig was still on the couch when I walked through the front door.

He immediately asked me how it went.

I dropped my keys on the kitchen counter and told him she didn’t leave immediately.

He raised his eyebrows and asked exactly how long I stayed.

I walked to the refrigerator and stood in the cold light, pretending to seriously consider a leftover slice of pizza.

I finally told him I stayed for two hours.

The silence that followed lasted much longer than I expected.

He repeated the words back to me slowly, trying to process the information.

I told him we just sat and talked about things.

He asked me what she was like.

I closed the refrigerator door and stood there with the cold pizza in my hand.

I told him she actually listens to you, not like she’s just waiting for her turn to speak.

He noted that it sounded like I really liked her.

I brushed it off and reminded him that she was supposed to be his date.

I went to bed and lay there for nearly an hour staring up at the ceiling.

Around midnight, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

The name on the illuminated screen was not one I expected to see.

It was a message from Megan thanking me for the evening.

I read it twice before I noticed the detail I had completely missed.

The message had come directly to my phone, not to Craig’s.

Somewhere in the middle of that long evening, when I wasn’t keeping track of the plan, we had exchanged numbers.

But there was still one massive problem I had entirely failed to address.

How do you explain to your older brother that the woman he set up a blind date with is now texting you instead?