They had exchanged birthday messages and holiday greetings since then, but their calls always ended before they reached anything honest. Rose had contacted Luke after Jack refused to do it himself, and now his younger brother's voice came through the phone sounding older than Jack remembered. "I'm coming up tomorrow," Luke said.
"You don't need to drive all this way."
"I'm not asking whether I need to. I'm telling you I'm coming."
Jack looked toward bed twelve. "She's really sick, Luke. It's not one of those visits where she looks tired and then starts asking for snacks."
"I know. Rose told me enough." Luke paused. "Jack, I haven't been much of a brother lately. Let me try again."
The admission reached into a place Jack had kept guarded since Mara died. He wanted to say he was fine, that he could handle his family alone, that there was no reason for Luke to lose a day's work. Instead he heard his daughter's voice from a happier summer, asking why Uncle Luke never came to her school concerts anymore.
"Drive safe," Jack said. "The roads are bad."
"I will. See you tomorrow."
Luke arrived with a travel bag, a package of Lily's favorite comic books, and the awkward expression of a man who knew an apology could be years overdue. He stopped outside the critical-care room and stared at his niece through the glass. Jack watched his brother's broad shoulders tremble once before Luke straightened them.
"She's gotten tall," Luke whispered. "Last time I saw her, she was shorter than my kitchen counter."
"She's grown almost four inches this year."
Luke nodded, unable to look away. "Can I go in?"
Jack checked with Leah, who helped Luke wash his hands and explained where it was safe to stand. Luke entered slowly, approached the bed, and rested two fingers against Lily's hand. He told her that he had finally learned how to make decent pancakes and would prove it as soon as she was ready to judge him. The promise sounded small in a room full of serious medicine, but Jack knew Lily would have appreciated it.
They sat together in the cafeteria later, two brothers who looked enough alike that strangers sometimes confused them but who had spent years approaching the same family responsibilities from different directions. Luke apologized for the argument about the shop. Jack admitted that he had treated every suggestion of change as a betrayal of their father. They did not settle the business dispute in one conversation, and neither pretended the old wounds had vanished.
"I was trying to tell you I was worried about you," Luke said. "I just said it like an accountant with a bad attitude."
"You always had the bad attitude," Jack replied. "The accounting came later."
Luke gave a shaky laugh. After a moment he reached across the table and rested his hand against Jack's arm. "You're not carrying this alone anymore. Whatever happens, I'm here."