” I rubbed Max’s knee. She ran her fingers through my hair at the base of my skull. I had to smile at such affection. I ended up with one hand on ...am’s head and the other going through Google to find my work number. When I was a kid, I could remember dozens of phone numbers. Now it seemed like I had to choose between my own or my brother’s. The number to our old house was ingrained so deep in my brain, I’d remember it if I was blackout drunk, stoned, and concussed. That would be the last thing. But considering everything I had done since joining the sisterhood, I didn't think I would pass the equivalent same smell test. Wouldn't that be a double standard? For perhaps the first time, I really wondered about his life growing up in a house with so many sisters and no brothers. He was an altar boy and I remember how we teased the altar boys in my town about wearing dresses. Like me, he was raised Catholic and schooled by nuns and other Catholics, and went to a segregated single-gender. More

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