“I’m meeting my brother on Sunday for brunch,” Meredith says.

“I think you already told me about this. I’m glad you’re taking this opportunity to reconnect,” I respond.

“Will you join me?” Meredith pleads as she gives me one of her sweet hopeful faces.

“You realize that look only works on Sam.”

“Please, I don’t want to drive three hours by myself.”

“There’s a water polo game on Sunday.”

“You’re going to choose to sit in those terrible seats by a pool instead of riding in the luxury of Sam’s car?”

“You think I’d choose driving over watching water polo players?”

“You never even date those guys. You always choose the angsty artist types.”

“Hey, I don’t make fun of your choice.”

“What’s wrong with Sam?”

“Why isn’t he joining you?”

“I need a friend, one that doesn’t raise the testosterone level.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“As you said, we can study on the way down.”

There’s something going on. I figure with three hours in the car, we can actually talk it out. Before we go I should stop by my psychology professor’s office. A little amateur analysis might be what’s called for.

***

Meredith picks me up in Sam’s Toyota. She’s playing her favorite iPhone mix. “Music or studying?” I ask as I settle my books between my feet and place my coffee in the cup holder.

“Let’s get on 280 before we start school work.”

 “Togo’s again?” I question as we reach Monterey.

“Hey, I know where this place is, it fits my budget, and it’s a nice day. I thought we could get a sandwich and head down to the ocean for a picnic.” We walk into Togo’s and look around, Conner’s not yet here. “Let’s get our sandwich while we wait.”

“I thought army guys were punctual,” I comment as we wait on the bench.

“They probably are punctual to army things. But sisters probably don’t rate.”

My eye catches a big guy in army fatigue jogging down the road. I point, he waves.

“Let me get my sandwich, I’ll join you in a couple of minutes,” he calls out as he jogs into the store.

“Hey GI Joe, do you think we can eat by the water?,” I ask when he joins us with his drink and sandwich.

“Let’s go,” Conner responds. The three of us head down the block.

“Conner, what are you studying?” I ask on our way to the ocean.

“Arabic.”

“Are you fluent?” I ask him in Arabic. “Have you learned the good words yet?”

 “You speak Arabic?” he answers in Arabic, with a strong American accent. “Where’d you learn?”

“I was raised by my Syrian grandmother,” I answer in English. “She grew up in Damascus, my family’s always been there.”

“You speak Arabic with a Syrian accent?”

“When I’m with my Syrian family, I do. When I’m in Israel with my Palestinian family, I speak with that accent. “When I’m in Israel with my Jewish family, I speak Hebrew, but it’s not that fluent. The Israelis usually switch to English as soon as they hear me butcher their language.”

“Trilingual,” he nods with approval.

“Her French is also pretty good,” Meredith interjects. “We practice together.”

“It’s only schoolgirl French. Now that I’m living in California I wish I’d learned Spanish.”

“They want us talking and ordering in the language we’re learning. I should call you up, so I can practice my Arabic over the phone,” Conner confides in Arabic.

“Your vocabulary is pretty good, but your pronunciation is all over the place.” I respond in English. “There’s a big difference in accents. Each dialect is different, like the difference between Scottish and American. Though I find once you get used to hearing a dialect, it doesn’t sound that different.”

“It would be helpful if my ear was tuned to the Syrian dialect.”

“Are you planning on running missions to Syria?” His face goes completely blank. Wow, I was kidding around, I wasn’t expecting a reaction.

“How far are we from someplace nice to sit?” Meredith questions.

“There’re some picnic tables by the water.” Conner points to a grove of trees.

Our lunch conversation is casual and pleasant. Afterward we walk along the ocean.

“I wasn’t kidding. I really do need to practice my Arabic over the phone. Would you mind if I called you?,” Conner asks as he walks Meredith and I back to Sam’s car.

“That would work. Have you learned all the swear words yet?”

“I think those are the only words I know. I’d like to get a little more conversational and to get used to the accent.”

“What’s your number?,” I ask. “This way I’ll actually answer my phone,” I flirt as I type it in and call him.

 “Were you flirting with my brother?” Meredith questions as we start driving away.

“Why would you even care?”

“You’re my best friend and he’s my brother.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Olivia, you don’t need to add my brother to your entourage.”

“He needs to practice his Arabic over the phone.”

“That better be all.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on here? You’re the one that wants a chaperone to visit your own brother.” She shakes her head and continues to drive. “Okay, your choice is tell me what’s going on with your brother or we can study?”

 “Study.”

“You should know by now that you can talk to me.”

Meredith doesn’t respond, all her focus is on the road.

“After my mom died, dad hired Laurie to help out,” she finally says.

“Laurie, your evil step monster?”

“Yeah, she quickly moved from doing the laundry to doing my dad. Three months later she was pregnant and installed full time in our house. Conner was angry. He had a few arguments with Laurie, and the next thing you know he’s moved to my grandparent’s farm. I hardly ever saw him after that. It’s like my mom died, I lost my brother, and my dad moved on with his new family. I was always so afraid to say anything to Laurie. I didn’t want to be banished to the farm. Conner said he would protect me. But I never saw him. Then he took off and joined the army.”

“You have to know that there was not much he could do. He too was busy surviving.”

“At some level, he’s a stranger to me, almost an enigma. He was kicked out of the house when I was eleven; he left for the army when I was fourteen. But, he never tried to help me. He never was there for me. I lived in that house like a border. I was always afraid that they would kick me out too. When I needed someone, where was he?” A tear rolls down her cheek.

“Meredith, he was a teenager, who lost his mom, and was kicked out of his house. I think he was too busy trying to survive to help you. If you want a relationship with him, I think you need to forgive him.”

She nods. I sit back in my seat. My family has issues, but it’s always been the rest of the world trying to cause havoc with us. My parents have always been the place I’ve gone for support and refuge. It makes me realize how lucky I am and how hard it would be if I didn’t have that.

“I guess we should study,” I comment after a long silence.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right. But am I right about forgiving your brother or studying?”

“It’s not like speaking all your issues and irrationalities out loud to a friend makes them go away,” Meredith contends.

 “Josef Breuer did call it the talking cure,” I reply.

“Yeah, I remember that lecture from Psych 101. Though I think maybe Adler and Jung are a little bit more to my liking.”

“Actually, I think your anger is focused on the wrong person. You should lighten up on your brother; he seems like an interesting guy.”

“Don’t go there Olivia, I have enough drama with my brother. You can’t get involved with him.”

“Meredith, what’s wrong with him practicing Arabic with me? Anyway, it’s not like he’s my type.”

 “Really? In some ways, he’s exactly your type. Promise me you won’t add him to your entourage.”

“I’m not going to add your brother to my entourage.”

“Scouts honor, promise me.”

I hold up two fingers. “I promise you. I won’t add your brother to my entourage.”