The group outside of Derrick's hospital room continued to grow. It had started to resemble a wedding morning-after get-together. Trent’s brother and parents were the first to arrive in the waiting area. They were soon joined by A.J. and Roland bringing coffee. They were discussing the wedding when several firefighters turned up, including his captain. The bride and groom eventually arrived to an enthusiastic but appropriately muted, reception. It was a whispering version of their entrance to the reception the night before. The group was assembled to see Derrick off into surgery, but A.J., Roland, and Jenna intended to stay the whole day. Derrick’s attending nurse was startled by the assembled masses as she turned the corner. She smiled at the group as she shuffled past and into his hospital room. The onlookers passed at her arrival and smiled back. They continued small talk once she disappeared into the room. Moments later, she re-emerged. She surveyed the group and spoke. “Derrick is awake,” she started, trying to find one person to focus on as the “leader.” She settled on A.J. as the most familiar face. His expectant expression also caught her eye. “We have a little bit of time before we have to prep him for surgery, so we can let some visitors in.” The nurse turned to return to the nurse’s station, before pausing. She spun in place with an added note. “But just one at a time,” she said, spreading a stern look over the crowd. “Thanks,” responded A.J., turning to his little sister. “Why don’t you head in there first.” She nodded and gave Trent a little kiss. She then approached the room and steeled herself at the door. After a deep breath, she entered. In the hallway, A.J. leaned into his husband’s ear and whispered about how he should go in when Jenna came out. Roland nodded in agreement and gave a gentle smile accompanied by a firm squeeze of A.J.’s shoulder. Roland returned to a conversation with Trent’s dad about British Columbia in the summers. A.J. took up a seat away from the throng near the corner. Hushed conversations carried on around him as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was still managing the stress of the weekend, processing the wedding that had come and the day he had ahead of him. The moral quandary of the day was not lost on him. Down the hall, his estranged brother was also soon being prepped for surgery. The whole matter was weighing on him. He felt guilty that Davis was there. He was going through with this surgery despite 13 years of estrangement. And, on top of that, he was skeptical of his brother’s motives. It seemed like a reasonable concern, but it made him feel shitty nonetheless. He was doubting what appeared to be a selfless act. The fact of the matter was that he knew very little about Davis’ last 13 years. Jenna knew more, but he’d been reluctant to press for any type of information. As he sat there, questions cycled through his head. “Why is he here?” “What does he want?” “Does he think we’re going to be one big happy family? Is that what he expects? Do we want that?” “Who is he? He’s been gone 13 years. He’s not the person we lost.” “‘Lost?’ Is that even the right word?” The world around A.J. continued to move, while the time in his head seemed to progress at a glacial pace. The questions had done a fifth lap through his mind with no resolution when he was startled by a hand on his knee. When he opened his eyes, Roland was crouching in front of him. “We have just a few more minutes,” he said, “You might want to go see him now.” “Thanks,” he replied, as they rose together. Roland watched his husband closely. He was looking for any queues on what he needed for support, but A.J. gave nothing away. A.J. offered an appreciative smile to Roland and walked quickly to the door. Derrick was sitting up in his bed when A.J. entered the room tentatively. Once he saw his brother alert, A.J. relaxed a bit. “Today’s the big day,” A.J. said brightly, leaning against a closet across the room. He was reluctant to take up the seat by the bed to avoid the feeling of a deathbed conversation. It was deeply unnerving talking to his parents’ from that vantage point. He was not keen on feeling that way again, especially now. “Pretty exciting,” Derrick responded with a smile. “How you feeling?” “Relieved, I guess,” he responded, unconvincingly. “That’s good,” A.J. said nodding, looking as if he’d run out of conversation. After an awkward silence, Derrick addressed the situation. “Yeah, I don’t know what we are supposed to talk about either,” he said with a smile. “Jenna told me about the wedding and Roland told me he loved me and asked how I was feeling, like, a lot.” Derrick embellished the last part with faux exasperation. A.J. offered a slight laugh, but it was unconvincing. “What’s on your mind?” Derrick asked. “I,” he paused, “I’m really happy we found a kidney for you. It’s just,” he stopped again. “I don’t understand why.” The sentence made no sense, but Derrick understood what he was getting at. “Is it bad that I kinda don’t care?” Derrick asked. “Really?” “Yeah. He stopped in here last night and he seems angry. It makes no sense that he would be here, but he is. He’s doing the right thing and, frankly, I don’t care why.” “Doing the right thing” resonated with A.J. That made sense. It is the right thing to do, why is that so hard for him to comprehend? “Angry?” A.J. asked. He circled back to that point now. “Yeah,” Derrick replied. “He feels like we all abandoned him. He also seems to blame me for what happened to Tim, I guess. I don’t know what he expects to get from this. He said he doesn’t want anything in return.” “What did you say?” “What could I say? I’m pissed too. Blaming that shit on me is fucked up. I never asked him to stick up for me and I had no issues with Tim. I talked my way into trouble, and I talked my way out of trouble. I was kind of a dick like that, I get it. He always wanted to defend everyone. He never asked why Tim would be mad at me, he just jumped in there. Then, he went after Tim later. That’s not defending me. That’s being butt-hurt that you got sucker-punched in front of people.” “Showing up today is the least he can do,” he continued. “He’s not the only one who’s been abandoned for 13 years. He didn’t have to do what he did and, when he got caught, he could’ve made it easier on himself, but he didn’t.” By the end, Derrick was worked up. He realized this and tried to calm himself. He appeared unbothered by the ethical conundrum that was preoccupying his brother. A.J. didn’t totally agree with Derrick's characterization. He did see where he was coming from and understood the rationalization. Derrick never defended Davis after the incident, but he was noticeably upset. He was different. A.J. had not considered the twin thing much at that time with regards to how his brother felt about the matter. It made sense in a way. “Anyway,” Derrick said, changing the subject. “How did the wedding go? Jenna seems happy, so it must’ve gone well.” With the little remaining time, A.J. gave a short account of the wedding from a technical side of things. He decided he’d stay with his brother until the nurse returned and kicked him out. The nurse returned as A.J. was recapping last night’s bar tab to Derrick's amusement. When the nurse entered, A.J. gave her a nod and said his last few words on the topic as we walked over to his brother’s bedside. “Y’know, we can talk about this later, you have more pressing issues,” he said leaning in for a hug. He also gave Derrick a kiss on his forehead. The act was unexceptional, but out of character for the elder brother. It was appreciated. The nurse gave them their space as they wrapped up. She held her place by the door. She retreated a bit to give a little more privacy while maintaining her presence. A.J. approached the door and paused. “Did he ever tell you he didn’t do it?” he asked, turning back. “What?” “Deuce,” he asserted. “Did he ever say he didn’t do it? After brief contemplation, Derrick shook his head and said, “I don’t think so, no.” A.J. paused. He was not known for regret. Most things he did were for, he felt, the right reasons. Oftentimes, the hardest decisions were in the service of his siblings. He’d been in the unenviable position of being the stand-in parent for Derrick and Jenna. It was tough as they were very different and going through very different stages of their lives. He had to remain strong when Davis went away, supporting his parents. Then, he stood by as his mother got sick and passed. He was there for his dad and started supporting his brother and sister more. When his dad died, it was sudden and he had to quickly bury his grief. They needed someone. They needed him. Regret and reflection on difficult decisions were luxuries he felt he never had. After yesterday’s wedding, this surgery seemed like the last hurdle. It was his last act as a surrogate parent. Tomorrow, he thought, he would only need to be a brother and husband. He didn’t need to be anything he’s not. Now, he wasn’t so sure about that. This close to the finish line, and with Davis “home,” regret started to sink in for the first time. What could he have done differently? Their parents moved them to another part of town and cut off contact with Davis. They had their reasons and they seemed to make sense to a 16-year-old, even if they weren’t ever explained. The look of worry that A.J. carried in his eyes and demeanor the last few weeks fell away. For the first time he could remember, Derrick could see a look of fear on his brother’s face. It wasn't the pain that he saw when their parents passed. This was something wholly different and he couldn’t explain it. It looked like regret and lamentation. As A.J.’s lips separated to talk, he found himself waiting on bated breath. “I never asked either,” he responded quietly. With that, A.J. lowered his head and entered the hallway and Derrick watched his brother turn to leave the room at a loss. A.J. saw his family to the right of the door, offered a half-hearted smile and turned left. He bypassed the elevator for the stairs and did not stop walking until he had exited the hospital. A.J. came to a stop on a bench in a small park-like green space next to a parking garage. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He deeply inhaled the fresh early-morning air. He started to contemplate the past and, now in a new way, the future. Without deciding to do so, he waited out the surgery on this bench. He watched the traffic, the clouds, and families coming and going. Eventually, his phone vibrated with a text message from Roland. It was the ninth buzz he felt, but the first time he looked at his phone. He replaced his phone in his pocket, wiped away tears that had yet to dry, and made his way back to the hospital.