The rain is pouring down hard as I stand outside of the hospital waiting for my driver to return from the parking deck. The weather is fairly fitting with all of the craziness in my life right now. My brother Eddie is still in a comma back home, and I’m at some random hospital miles outside of LA dealing with his other half-brother, Nick. Nick was picked up just a few minutes ago and taken to a rehabilitation center that I am going to be paying for. I just had a conversation with a woman named Donna with child protective services about what to do next. She wants me to do whatever I can to get these court cases out from under me so that I can potentially pick Nick up from rehab once he gets out. I’m not sure how that’s going to go, and I am almost nauseous at the thought of bringing home a fifteen-year-old kid to look after. He’ll be in rehabilitation for a while, but it is still horrifying to think about.

I grip my umbrella tightly, feeling somewhat embarrassed by it. I bought it from the gift shop; it’s bright pink with stupid looking white and blue flowers all over it. It was the only that had been left. My driver pulls up to the curb and hops out to get the door for me, and I thank him and hurry into the back seat. As we are pulling out into the street, my driver laughs under his breath and says, “Cute umbrella, sir.” I roll my eyes. I’m not really in the mood for jokes. I tell my driver I want to take a detour before heading back to my home once we reach LA. “Are we visiting Éclair or Ms. Sylvia, sir?” he asks, and I contemplate bashing him in the back of the head for being a smart ass.

“Neither.” I say and then give him the address.

It’s a good drive, so I lean back and close my eyes for a little while. I have been sleeping on a couch at this hospital in the middle of nowhere for two days now. While I am quite eager to get home after all of that nonsense, I have something I want to do first. I think I must have fallen asleep because we are suddenly pulling up into this really shitty neighborhood just outside of LA. It’s one of those places that make you feel like you should only walk around if you’re armed and on high alert. Is this really the right address? I have my driver double check, and he assures me we’re in the right place. I tell him to circle around a couple of times; I just have this overwhelming feeling that he’ll get mugged if he keeps this nice looking car parked out in front of a house.

I exit out onto the sidewalk, thankful that it’s not raining here –although the sky is still a bit gloomy. I probably would get my ass kicked around here walking around with that stupid pink umbrella. The house I find myself standing in front of looks pretty run down. There are a few kids’ toys in the front yard which is nothing but dead grass and dirt. I walk up the small and incredibly cracked walkway to the front door and knock three times. The door flings open, and Bobby, my brother’s sixteen-year-old nephew, is standing in the doorway. I see that he has changed the stupid green stripe in his hair to blue now. He snorts slightly when he sees me, “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks.

“Is your mom here?” I ask, ignoring his question.

“She should be getting off work soon.” He says and there is this awkward silence between us before he says, “You want to come in?”

“I’d rather not stand out here,” I say, and he steps aside so that I can enter.

The house is full of noise of young children who had just gotten home from school. Bobby raises his voice as the five-year-old twin boys William and Jacob come running through the foyer chasing each other, “Get your asses back in the kitchen!” Bobby snaps, and the two boys scurry off.

I raise a brow at Bobby’s command. He walks after the two of them, and when I enter the kitchen I see that all of the other kids are seated around a small kitchen table helping one another with their homework. “I told you he would yell at you,” Tommy, the nine-year-old, chastises his younger brothers.

“Yeah, well, I know none of you are finished, so get to it.” Bobby hisses. “Eddie’s brother is here.” All of the kids smile at me, and I watch as Bobby goes around the island in the kitchen and proceeds to cup up tomatoes. He’s making dinner.

“Don’t you have homework too Bobby?” I ask, knowing that he’s back in school now.

“I’ll get it done later.” He says, “It’s easier to do my homework when they’re all in bed. Besides, Mom’s not working late, so that makes it easier.”

This kid pretty much runs the house. It makes me angry to see it. He probably had to round up all eight of his younger siblings when they got off the bus to get them into homework mode. And he’s making dinner too. It’s not like his mom, Kate –Eddie’s sister, can do it all by herself. I suppose I should have realized that someone was helping her. I just didn’t think it was her kid.

“What’s for dinner, Bobby?” Lana, the fourteen-year-old, asks.

“I already told you, hamburgers.” Bobby hisses, “Quit talking to me and finish your homework.”

“You know,” I say with a smile, “I make a pretty mean burger. Why don’t you help them with their homework and start on your own work too, and I’ll make dinner while I’m waiting on your mom to get here?”

Bobby gives me a reluctant glare, but I can tell he is exhausted and could use the help. He agrees, and I take over kitchen duty. I finish up the patties and head out to their back yard where there is a grill seated on a small slab of concrete. The grill is chained to the side of the house using a bicycle lock. Has someone tried stealing their grill before? I try not to think about it and get to work on the burgers.

Just as I am removing the last burger from the grill, I hear their doorbell. I head inside with the plate full of patties, and I spot some of the kid’s running back into the kitchen from the front door. I spot Max, another one of Eddie’s siblings, headed inside followed by Kate. “Hey J-j-Jamesss.” Max says with his usual stutter. I watch as Bobby starts signing towards Max, and I kind of smile at that. It makes sense. I can hardly understand a word that Max says, so I can imagine that Max has found other means of communicating.

Kate smiles when she sees me, but she finishes thanking Max for the ride home both vocally and through sign. Evidently, Kate’s car had broken down a few days ago and Max had been driving her to and from work. The next thing I know, I’m being invited to dinner and I get to see what a true madhouse this place is. Max stays for dinner too, which is good because I need to talk to him just as much as I do to Kate. Dinner is full of loud, unintelligible shouts from the kids as they each try to tell a story from school that day. I wind up sticking around to help Kate and Bobby get the kids ready for bed. By the time the house is settled, poor Bobby is passed out on the couch with his homework spread out all around him while Kate, Max, and I chat in the kitchen.

I had wanted to tell Kate and Max about their brother Nick in person. From the looks on both of their faces, I can tell that neither of them are too surprised about him overdosing. The thing that surprises them the most is that I am talking to family services about being Nick’s guardian. “Why would you do that?” Kate questions, “He’s not your family.”

“He’s Eddies.” I say as though that should be enough. I put my hands in my pockets and lean back against her kitchen sink. “I just wanted to make sure you both know.”

“I should call the others and tell them where Nick is.” Kate says, and I try not to think about how many more of these random half-siblings Eddie has wandering around that I still don’t know about. Kate gives me a peck on my cheek and thanks me for telling them.

Somewhat reluctantly, I head out –using my driver as an excuse to leave. He has been circling around the neighborhood for a couple of hours now. As I am headed out the door I spot Bobby passed out on the couch, and I shake my head. Surely there is something I can do to make this easier on all of them. I’m just not sure what.