My mother, who had walked back inside to see what was taking so long, stopped behind us.
Jake looked like someone had knocked the air out of him.
“What?”
Megan said quickly, “It was a joke.”
Jake laughed once.
There was nothing funny about it.
“A joke.”
“Yes.”
“You introduced some man as your husband.”
“It was not like that.”
“Then explain what it was like.”
Megan glanced around. “Can we please not do this here?”
I almost laughed.
She had embarrassed me before, but apparently now she cared about privacy.
Jake said, “Who was he?”
Megan looked at him.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she said, “Ryan.”
“Your brother?” asked Jake.
Megan nodded.
I knew about Ryan.
Everybody did.
We’d heard the stories.
Ryan was Megan’s older brother.
Several years earlier, he had lost his job while struggling with addiction.
Megan and Jake let him stay with them.
What was supposed to be a few weeks became almost six months.
At first, they tried to help.
Jake drove him to appointments.
Megan helped him apply for jobs.
They covered food, utilities, everything.
Then money started disappearing.
First cash.
Then a watch.
Then Jake discovered two of his credit cards were missing.
