When Alden and his wife, Sigrid, got back from a trip, they were stunned to find Halvor, Alden’s messy brother, in their home. After a clash that sparked angry parents and Sigrid leaving, Alden pushed Halvor to leave…
When I came home from our trip, I was hoping to unwind, maybe open a bottle of wine with my wife, and soak in the calm of our home. Instead, we stepped into a living room that looked like a chaotic frat house after a wild night.
There were empty beer cans scattered everywhere, dirty clothes flung in heaps, and the stench—good grief, the stench. And there, lounging on my couch like he owned it, was my older brother, Halvor, or Hal, as everyone called him. “Hal, what’s going on?
What’s this mess? Why are you in my house?” I asked, trying to keep my cool, though my temper was spiking fast. Sigrid, my wife, scanned our living room and rolled her eyes.
In that moment, I knew I had to fix this, or I’d be facing a very upset wife. My brother glanced up, all casual, like I hadn’t just caught him in the act. “Hey, Alden,” he said.
“Mom and Dad thought it’d be fine if I stayed here while you were gone. You’ve got all this room, and it’s not like you’re using it, right? You and Sigrid are always working or off traveling.”
I blinked, trying to wrap my head around his nerve.
“You moved in? Into my house? Without asking?
Hal, are you out of your mind?”
He rolled his eyes, propping his feet on the couch like he was settling in for a movie. “Yeah, so what?” he said. “I needed a place, and it’s not like you’d agree.
So, we skipped that part. Relax, Alden. Just help your brother out.”
Something snapped inside me—the years of watching him sponge off our parents, his life one excuse after another, always playing the victim.
Now, he’d taken over my home. Seriously? Just as I was about to speak, my phone rang.
Mom. Of course. I answered, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
“Mom, did you and Dad really let Halvor crash in my house while I was away?”
“Why’re you using my full name?” Hal piped up from the couch. I ignored him. “Alden, don’t make a fuss,” my mother said, without a trace of regret.
“Hal needed somewhere to stay, and you’ve got plenty of space. You don’t even have kids yet. What’s the harm in helping your brother?”
I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Mom, he’s 42. He’s not a kid. You’ve let him leech off you for years, and now you’re dumping him on me?
Are you serious? Why do you keep treating him like he’s fresh out of college?”
My mother’s tone sharpened, instantly defensive. “Leeching, is it?” she said.
“I’m ashamed of you, Alden. He’s had a rough time. You wouldn’t understand what he’s been through.
You’ve always had your life together. Hal needs a bit more support. As family, you owe him that.”
Rough time?
My brother had two kids under five, with two different women, and didn’t bother supporting either of them. How was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Before I could reply, my father grabbed the phone, his voice grating in my ear, even more annoyed.
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