Chapter 2: Obeying Orders
Bright was, in fact, not bald. His late twenties agreed with him. By default, he'd figured out what to do with his unruly hair and it now lay in longish waves at the nape of his heck and around his ears. You look like a Canadian hockey player, his dad would groan, but the ladies liked it. He hadn't become fat or an alcoholic like some the guys from the football team he saw around town. If anything, he was leaner. Four years spent in the third world can do that to a guy.
And so it happened that when Bright stood up to shake Ephram's hand in the hospital lobby, both men were surprised by the appearance of the other. For one thing, Ephram's grip was firmer than memory served.
"Thanks for coming," Bright said, "I know it sucks to fly during the holidays, but…" and his eyes landed on Delia who had just entered, tucking away her cell phone from the call she'd taken out on the sidewalk. If Ephram's filled-out frame and added height were unexpected, Delia's transformation was a revelation.
Though he knew he didn't need to say it, a sense of formality gripped Ephram and gestured to his sister, "You remember Delia?"
Her chestnut hair, arranged in a makeshift chignon, shone under the fluorescence of the lobby lighting as Delia, clad in a long, dark red skirt and fitted velvet blazer, walked toward them. Not that Bright noticed the intricate moss greens and cerulean blues of the embroidery on the jacket, or the funky hem of the A-line skirt. That would be asking too much of him under any circumstance. But what struck him soundly was that she was thoroughly Woman. From hips, to breasts, to eyes lined with a color of shadow that a more articulate man might have called Kohl of Experience – Delia Brown had grown up.
Twenty-seven-year-old men shouldn't stutter. "Ye…Yes. Well, no… I mean." What did he mean? "You were a kid last time," was what Bright settled with as she stopped beside her brother. Ephram was torn between rolling his eyes and scowling protectively. The result was a deranged grimace which neither party noticed.
Delia smiled wide at her grade school crush. "Yeah, and you don't look as tall anymore," she joked, leaning forward for a small hug. Bright's hands almost made it to her sides before she pulled away. "Seriously, it's good to see you."
"She puked on the plane," Ephram announced. Silence followed.
He couldn't have said why he shared this information with Bright, or why Delia looked at him with murderous eyes, but it felt good to lay it out there -- 'it' being the tone of the visit. They weren't here to reminisce, or give hugs or make nice like a decade hadn't passed. They were here because they had been commanded to appear. Thanksgiving be damned, because Amy had beckoned. Never mind the guilt-trips and questions they'd had to endure from their grandparents as to why they were "choosing" to return to Colorado on the very Thursday morning that they should be helping Nonnie set the table and negotiating a grotesquely overstuffed bird into the oven.
"Wow," Bright said, recovering. He looked into Delia's mortified face and searched for the right words. "That…blows." At this unavoidable pun, Bright snorted a quick laugh and was relieved when Delia joined him in a repressed snicker of her own. They were soon outright laughing and Ephram stood with his hands in his corduroy pants and waited for them to finish. Bright finally sniggered to a stop, "Don't worry, I'm a Dramamine fiend when I fly."
"Me, too, usually," she answered, her arms no longer crossed in front of her body. "We just left New York so quickly…"
He nodded sympathetically, "Yeah, I'm sorry about that." Ephram thought Bright might elaborate, give a few more clues. But instead, "And another thing…I wish I could have been here to say 'goodbye' when you left Everwood." He was remembering his promise to Delia at the pool and his small friendship with Ephram as he addressed them both. "I'm sorry I couldn't be at the funeral."
It had been the wrong thing to say, he knew immediately. Ephram stiffened and Delia's smile faded. Bright tried to repair, "I was in Tanzania when I got the letter. It was almost a month later." Looking to Ephram, "I tried to call but you'd already…"
"It's ok, Bright. There was a lot going on then," Ephram interrupted, and changed gears, "So…where to from here? Our car's in the deck." He moved a few steps away from the group, as if to leave.
"Ephram," Bright said, stopping him, before taking a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He didn't want to take this plan any further because he didn't think anyone was ready to face what it meant. And it sure as hell wasn't the resolution he'd prayed for. But he couldn't go against Amy, either. Not with so much at stake. He looked Ephram in the eyes, "Amy's here."
