Through my high school years, Mr.rick and I threw parties at his house. He’d get the beer and I’d get the weed. We would invite about a dozen people over, have a few drinks, smoke some weed, and Mr.Rick would tell us crazy stories and life advice occasionally. Sometimes nights got crazier than normal like all of us doing bow and arrow practice in the house, using pictures of his wife as targets, smashing his ex-wife’s fine China she had left behind, riding a four-wheeler around his backyard and pulling people on a sled.
When they first found each other and sat and spoke, my father told him about my mother’s firstborn, my other brother. My other brother had recently moved to a different city, so my father wanted to give my new(recently found) brother my old brother’s number so that they could also talk and get to know each other. Let’s call newly found brother ‘Y’ and the brother I’ve always known ‘X’. The son my father had been looking for for 30 years had been living a street away from his house, yet they never saw each other. They’d been in the same house at some point, same shops, across the street from each other, etc.