Responsibility and Regret (Patreon)

Dana expected to find Luke passed out in their narrow bed, but when she walked into their apartment, he was sitting on the end, a boot propped up on the lower rail of their only chair. He had a vid set on and he looked pissed. She eased into the door and pushed it shut as quietly as she could. Hopefully there wasn’t a problem.

Scratch that. Given Luke’s thunderous expression, some problem had come up, but Dana hoped it didn’t involve money. With both of them working, they were barely making the bills on this place. Dana didn’t think either of them could pick up any more hours, and if Luke tried, he was going to fail out of school. In the long run, that would cost both of them. His education—his innate talent with math and logic and AI design—could buy them a ticket out of poverty, but only if he finished his schooling.

That didn’t stop Luke from arguing that he should work more to take some of the weight off her. Even now he was pushing the chair toward her with his foot. Dana dropped her tool belt in the bucket on the floor and happily got off her feet. 

“Put your feet up here,” Luke said quietly.

“I’m fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m on hold anyway. Give me your damn feet, woman.”

“Bitch, bitch,” she shot back, but she started pulling the laces on her work boots. “What’s wrong?”

“Fucking idiots at the bank, that’s what’s wrong. This world would be a better place if I could press a button and send all the incompetent morons to the front lines.” He mimicked pressing a button. He then pressed his imaginary button harder before pantomiming mashing it with his thumb. 

That was not good. If the bank screwed up, she and Luke were going to be in deep shit when the rent came due. They’d already used their one free late payment allotment for the year, so a second late payment would create huge penalties. Dana wasn’t sure how to keep Luke in school if that happened.

She wiggled her toes and plopped her right foot in Luke’s lap. “How much did they lose?”

“Weirdly, they didn’t lose any. They mysteriously gifted us with an extra two hundred and twelve credits.” He started rubbing her feet, pressing his thumbs against the arch of her foot. Shivers of pain ran up her leg, but when he released it, all the tension drained away. 

“Oh thank God.” The fear that had nearly crushed Dana heart eased up. 

“You say that now, but they’re going to come looking for this money later,” he said. He pointed a long finger at her. Every time he got angry, his movements got jerky, like a scarecrow in the wind. The fact that he was tall and lanky reinforced the image. But even if Luke hadn’t outgrown his gawky stage, Dana still adored him. He had more loyalty and love than any other human on the earth, and one of these days he was going to grow into a stunning man. His dark blue eyes had a depth to them, and his sandy hair flew in opposite directions, even on a perfect still day. It was like an alien lifeform. Luke complained that his hair did that because it was too fine, but Dana loved running her fingers through it. But his one great flaw was his ability to see the down side of every situation.

“And if we don’t spend it, it will be there when they do,” she said.

“Until they accuse us of stealing it.” Luke tapped the eyepiece to make it more opaque. He was probably trying to see what the teller was doing, but vid cameras didn’t show small details. “Yeah!” he said loudly to whoever was on the other end of the call. “I’m here.” He listened, his face a twisted riot of emotion, none of which Dana could read. He paused in his massage, and she pulled her foot away and leaned forward. “Are you sure?” Luke asked. 

Dana watched as the vid display flashed a number of colors across Luke’s face. The teller was clearly showing him something, and Luke grew more and more still.

“Yeah, can you forward that?” He reached out and blindly groped for Dana’s hand. She reached out and took his. It couldn’t be his mother. She had died years ago. Dana had only known her at the very end when cancer had wrecked her body. She would confuse Luke with his other brother Liam, and every time, Luke would clench his teeth and storm out of the room like a tornado looking to destroy a small village. He had moved in with her family after his mother died. So that couldn’t be it, but Luke had that lost expression—the one he’d had when the hospital had called.

Maybe something had happened to one of the younger siblings, but that wouldn’t result in any money. Given that they’d been scattered when their mother died, Dana wasn’t sure they’d even get notified if something happened. Siblings had a legal right to know each other’s contact information, but that didn’t mean that any foster families would bother using that to notify families.

“Yeah, they didn’t say anything. The military—who would have guessed they were incompetent, huh?” he asked. He was clearly trying for a joke, but his voice shook. “Thanks.” Luke reached up and paused the vid before pulling the headset off.

Dana took it and put it on the desk since she was closest. “What is it?”

“My brother. My older brother.”

Dana sucked in a breath. Liam. If there was one topic that was off-limits in Luke’s world, Liam was it. To hear Luke tell the story, Liam had just abandoned the family one day. He’d run off with some boyfriend and when that didn’t work out, he’d jumped a military ship for the front and never looked back. Dana’s older brother had known Liam, and he’d said one or two things that made Dana question that story, but Luke saw the world through the eyes of a little brother. 

“Did he die?” Dana would have thought that would show up on the news feeds. After all, Liam Munson was the darling of the military—the linguist who had single-handedly delivered the most important ally in the war against the rebelling worlds. He had discovered that the turtle people had a lot more going for them than Earth had assumed.

Luke leaned back, bracing his arms behind him. “He left me part of his paycheck.”

“He what?”

Luke leapt to his feet, but there was nowhere for him to go because the apartment had one walkway, and Dana had her chair parked in the middle of it. “He left me ten percent of his paycheck. That extra money came from him.”

“Oh.” Dana had no idea what to say. She wanted to point out that they could use the money. Two hundred and twelve credits would take a lot of pressure off them financially. That was one third of their rent. If they stayed put, they could put every penny aside and next semester pay the rental fees on Luke’s books up front, which would save them a shitload of interest and fees. However, Luke’s expression suggested he would rather burn the credits.

Dana rolled the chair back, and Luke powerwalked the three steps to the bathroom and then stopped. “Why the hell is he stirring all this shit up again? It’s not like he gives a damn. He didn’t show up when Mom was sick. He didn’t even send a card to the damn funeral.”

Dana nodded without saying anything. Liam’s name hadn’t been on the news back then, but Dana suspected he had been doing something linguistic and important. The military probably hadn’t told him about their mother. That was the sort of shitty thing the government might do if they thought a death in the family might distract someone. The only people who acted shittier than the government were the assholes who had set up their own private kingdoms on planets Earth had paid to terraform. 

“Aren’t you doing to say anything?” Luke demanded.

“Do you honestly want to hear what I have to say?”

Luke scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “So you think I’m being unreasonable?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You practically flashed the words in sign language.”

Dana stood. “Don’t put words in my hands. I’m not defending your brother.”

“We don’t need his money.”

“Need? No,” Dana said. “We can keep limping through each month hoping that you finish your degree and get a position before an injury or a draft notice shows up. That’s what we’ve done up to this point, and we can keep right on with our five year plan. But a little extra money would help.”

“It’s his money.” Luke made “his” sound like the worst profanity in the universe.

“I don’t care if you inherited it from Hitler or Myronov or that weird religious guy with the poison drink he gave to kids. Money is money. If someone evil leaves you money, there’s no psychic stain on the credits.” 

“Are you calling my brother evil?” Now Luke sounded angry that Dana had insulted Liam. 

Dana threw her hands up. “I’m the one who has said more than once that you can’t condemn him without hearing his side of the story. What he did was horrible, but I’m guessing he has an explanation for why he did it.”

“He left. What side is there? Actions speak louder than words.” 

“Yeah, well you have done one or two shitty things in your life. I try not to judge you on them.” Dana crossed her own arms in imitation of his stance.

“I didn’t do something shitty and then run away.”

Dana sighed. “Once he was stupid enough to volunteer for the military, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t running as much as the military sending him wherever they want to. You know that.”

“And not writing?”

Dana didn’t say it, but Luke had a point there. Maybe Liam had good intentions when he left, but it was pretty clear that any desire to help the family had vanished when someone had dangled a chance for an education in linguistics and an officer position in front of him. He had probably worked his fingers to the bone, but saying that Luke’s big brother cared about being an officer more than being a brother would gut Luke. So instead she said, “What’s he supposed to say? Hey, sorry I blew you off. I’m at the front now? You were twelve when he left. Twelve year olds do not need to hear stories about the front.”

“He could have asked after us!” 

“You’re right. He should have,” Dana said gently. “And that’s on him, but it sure seems like he’s trying to make amends.”

Luke wrapped his hand around the bathroom knob and squeezed it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “We found out he was on Earth from watching the news. He didn’t even visit.”

Dana sat. “He has a job. If he came here, that mutant turtle would have followed. Do you really want to have a family fight in front of that thing? And you saw that vid where the reporter got close to that big alien. I can just see you yelling at Liam and that alien backhanding you into the middle of next week. There are all sorts of practical and even kind reasons why Liam would have stayed away. I mean, if he came here, reporters would have descended on us. What would happen if we lost one of our jobs or if we even lost a week of work because the reporters were interfering too much? Don’t assume he doesn’t care.”

“He didn’t even call. He didn’t leave one word for me.” Luke’s voice broke, and he fell silent.

Dana said softly, “He gave you the money. He’s still thinking about you.”

“Or he feels guilty.”

“If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t feel guilty.”

Luke rubbed his hand over his face. “I hate it when you’re logical.”

“You worship logic,” Dana said drily. “And given that those turtles measure success through trade and profit, Liam’s willingness to give you part of his salary says a lot about how he feels.”

Luke stared at the wall just over Dana’s shoulder. He stood silent for a long time before he threw out one last pathetic excuse. “Or he has more than he needs and doesn’t care about it.”

“Oh please. Who gives money away just because they have enough? That’s just not what people do.”

“I need to…” Luke seemed unable to finish his thought. He stood in the bathroom doorway, one hand fluttering like a broken scarecrow in the wind. Then he seemed to gather up his resolve, and he headed for the door. “I’ll be back,” he said as he fled.

Dana was left alone in the tiny apartment. She sighed. So much fucking drama. If she ever got Liam in a room alone, she was going to give him several pieces of her mind because Luke deserved better than he’d gotten from his family. And Dana had to admit that Liam might avoid them because he knew that lecture was coming. 

The vid set still lay on the desk, the yellow pause button flashing. She picked it up and slipped it over her head. It was Luke’s set and the eyepiece was too low for her smaller head, but she could still see a distorted version of the documents the bank had forwarded. The first showed the automatic transfer. Damn. That money was every two weeks. Between the specialist pay and the front line pay and the officer pay, Liam was making a killing. For that much money, Dana might consider enlisting, but uneducated grunts didn’t make the sort of money officers did. 

She flipped past a few more pages of legalese describing who the pay would go to if Luke refused it. Dana had grown up around the Munsons, but she didn’t know the names in the paperwork. She only recognized the other Munson siblings on one of the last pages. When the younger siblings reached majority, Luke would share his percentage with them. 

As guilt money went, it wasn’t bad. And as far as Dana was concerned, Liam did owe his brother something for walking away without a word. Luke suffered. He had deeply suffered. She hadn’t been close to Luke back then, but her brother had been friends with Liam. She remembered Luke coming over every day to see if Chak had heard anything from Liam. Liam and Chak had been close once, and then they’d gotten in trouble for skipping school together a few times. Dana’s mother had put the brakes on the friendship, but Luke had been sure Liam would contact him. He hadn’t. Liam had just cut everyone off.

Her brother had suggested that things were harder for Liam than anyone knew. And Dana got it. Being poor and brilliant and stuck in a shitty school with all the responsibility for helping with little brothers and sisters—it was a lot. And Liam had been young, but no younger than Luke was now, and Luke never would have put himself ahead of his family. Sure, Luke was looking to claw his way to the top like everyone else, but he wanted to stay on Earth to make sure he could help his siblings when they aged out of the foster system. Hell, he’d take them in if the state allowed it.

Dana had definitely gotten the better Munson brother. Maybe Liam’s slightly mercenary bent worked when it came to making treaties with those aliens of his, but she would much rather have Luke, even with his occasionally overdeveloped sense of honor.  There were more important things in the world than money, and by leaving his family, Liam had missed out on that.

One day he might live to regret it.