Fidelity Read Online Free Page B

worn half a lifetime into his face. He was thin all over, the skin hung loose off his face and his eyes weren’t bright like they had been.
    But, watching him cook, she could almost see the years slough off him. Kay remembered her eleventh birthday, the first without their parents, a fourteen-year-old Christopher trying his hand at a strawberry shortcake, nearly burning their house down in the process but still, so lively and jubilant that she had all but forgotten her troubles. He had always done his best to look out for her, Kay thought. At some point he had just stopped being very good at it.
    They made a point of not talking about anything serious. Nothing about her work, nor whatever he was doing in lieu of it. Nothing about their family or their past. Just superficial nonsense: if she was seeing anyone (no), if he was seeing anyone (lots of people), if they’d seen any good movies lately, the usual pop culture nonsense. He put the finishing touches on the chicken, spread it on two plates and gave Kay one of them. Then he torea corner off Kay’s roll of paper towels, tore that corner into two halves, gave one to Kay. “The very lap of luxury,” he said.
    â€œLots of white cloth napkins in your flat?”
    â€œI’m between flats at the moment,” Christopher explained, “though when last I had them Jeeves made sure the napkins were exclusively silk.”
    Kay laughed.
    â€œI’m sorry I forgot your birthday,” he said after a couple of bites.
    Kay shrugged. It was something that she had long gotten used to. Christopher did not show up to things: dinners and graduations, court dates and appointments with parole officers. At a certain point you make a decision to keep loving a person in spite of themselves, regardless of what they do to you, or you remove them from your life completely. And Kay wasn’t a cut-and-run type, not when it came to family. Not when it came to anything, really. “Don’t worry about it.”
    â€œCan I hold your gun?” he asked, joking. Maybe joking: you could never tell entirely with Christopher.
    â€œYou’re lucky I let you use my kitchen knife.”
    â€œYou think I don’t know how to fire a pistol, little sister?”
    Kay did not like to think about everything that her brother knew how to do. Much of it was unsavory and most of it was unwise. “You can’t hold my gun,” Kay affirmed. “You been to see Uncle Luis lately?”
    â€œIt’s been a while since I ran into the Don,” he admitted, making a face and using their childhood name for Luis. They’d always had a difficult relationship, Christopher and Uncle Luis, at least since Luis and his wife had taken them both in as children. Mostly Kay chalked this up to the fact that Christopher had a difficult relationship with everyone he knew who wasn’t astone-cold junkie; that his erratic and often outright foul behavior was enough to isolate anyone who wasn’t a blood relative. Mostly. “I bumped into Aunt Justyna last month. She seemed well.” Then, switching topics abruptly: “How was your day?”
    â€œI let the biggest drug dealer in East Baltimore escape a trap we’d built for him,” Kay said bluntly. “Real scumbag. Killed two kids in a drive-by a few months back. He had a back exit rigged up in his stash house and I let him walk right past me. Even called me ‘ma’am,’ ” she recalled. “In some dive bar near the office, at this very moment, a half dozen of my colleagues are talking trash about the Ivy League princess that’s been foisted on them.”
    â€œSo, run-of-the-mill, then?”
    Kay chuckled. There was a lot to say against Christopher, but the fact that he could always make her laugh made up for a lot of it.
    â€œDon’t worry yourself too terribly, little sister,” Christopher said. “Remember, I’ve got three whole years on you, and with