Dustin started to tease him some more, but then thought better of it. "Just forget about her, brother," he said. "You can do better than that."
Travis laughed bitterly. "There's nothing better than that."
Dustin felt a pang of compassion in his chest. He knew the feeling. "Well...then...maybe she'll come around to your way of thinking."
Travis shrugged and stared down at his feet. "She's engaged. How far can I go to convince her without it being...I don't know...morally wrong or whatever?"
Dustin shook his head. "I don't know, man. I guess you just have to hang around and watch for an opening."
Travis nodded thoughtfully. He took a deep breath and then sat up straighter. "What's going on with him?" Travis nodded toward the bathroom. The water was off now.
Dustin leaned back, relieved at the topic change. Travis had mastered the whole "sensitive male" thing, talking about his feelings and all, but it always took a great deal of effort for Dustin to pull it off. "He had the good sense to look ashamed of himself when I picked him up this morning. But I haven't had the chance to talk to him about it. He stank so bad all I could think about was getting him to the nearest shower."
Travis nodded.
"I think he's going to have to crash here for a while. I tried to take him back to his apartment and all his things were sitting outside by the dumpster. The landlord says he hasn't been paying his rent. This was just a good opportunity to kick him out, I guess."
Travis cursed. Duane came into the room, then, wearing some of Dustin's jeans and a t-shirt. Both of which were too big for him. Dustin wasn't as big as Travis, but he was much larger than his skinny baby brother. Duane, at twenty-two, looked every bit of fifteen. He was tall but incredibly lanky. Dustin often worried that he was malnourished. In these times when Duane lived with them, they could usually fatten him up a bit, but he'd been living on his own for over a year, now, and had looked less and less healthy by the day.
Travis picked up the remote and hit the mute button. Duane continued staring at the TV from where he sat on the couch. Finally, he turned to look at Travis.
"You going to interrogate me, or what?"
Travis's jaw tightened and Dustin prayed he would keep control of his temper. Travis in a rage was a dangerous thing. And Duane was nearly always the catalyst.
"We just want to know what happened, bro," Dustin said, saving Travis from having to speak in that moment.
"He doesn't," Duane nodded to Travis. "He just wants another excuse to beat me up."
"This isn't about him, Duane. It's about you. Now what happened?" Dustin asked.
"It wasn't nothing," Duane said. "Me and Vicki got in a fight and the neighbors called the cops."
"Did you hit her?" Dustin asked.
"I don't remember. I was too drunk."
"Don't bullshit me, Duane. Did you hit her?"
Duane shrugged and looked away.
Travis sighed and shared a look with Dustin. Maybe this would make Travis finally realize they needed to cut Duane loose. The problem with Travis, though, was that he saw himself when he looked at Duane. He saw a confused, angry young man in need of guidance. But Dustin saw much more than that in Duane. Duane hated. Specifically, he hated Travis. Probably because the old man wasn't around anymore. And every kind act Travis did for Duane only fueled him to hate even more. Duane didn't want their help. And it was long past time to send him on his way. But anytime he tried to convince Travis, he got yelled at.
"I'm sorry," Travis said, "for losing my temper that night and for fighting with you. I really am sorry."
Duane's expression softened somewhat.
"You need help, Duane. I'm trying to give you a better start than I had. You may hate me for whatever reason, but I'm begging you to take advantage of having three older brothers who all want to see you succeed."
"Succeed?" Duane laughed. "You're a fucking mechanic. You've got nothing. You're no better than me."
Dustin rested his head on his folded hands and prayed for patience.
"It's not about that, Duane," Travis said. "It's about finding some peace in this world. Some way to be happy. Now if you don't want to work at the shop with us, that's fine. If you don't want to live in Splitlog anymore, again, that's fine. Just tell us what you want and let us help you get there."
"What I want is for you to get off your goddamn high horse and admit that you're no better than me."
"I've never said I'm better than you," Travis said through his gritted teeth.
"You think I need your help. You think you've got something I want."
"Then what is it you do want, Duane?"