Every month we drove two hours to the merchants bazaar taking place in the large stone arcade by the pier.
Brother always moved my things in the backseat around so he could put his bags and crates closest to the door.
“I like that thing you use for your phone. How does it connect?” he asked.
“It’s just a magnet, see. I got it at a work thing”
“It’s very nice. I should get one too”
“You don’t have a car, ha ha. But, thanks” I said.
He used his finger and thumb to squeeze a bit of fabric from my sleeve. He looked at his shirt as well.
“That’s a nice shirt. Good material”
“It’s just Levi’s”
“You have such nice shirts”
He looked around the car turning to the back seat.
“Have you ever thought about getting your car detailed?” he asked.
“I have the dog—so I can’t get it washed every week—it would be a waste”
“Just saying. It would look nice. I think you take good care of this car. It’s a great car”
“It’s almost ten years old”
“It still looks as good as any new car on the road. I’ve always said it’s a great car”
“We’re here”
We parked in a space that opened up only a little bit away from the main entrance.
“Sweet spot!” he chirped.
“Yeah, not bad, I guess just good luck”
Brother looked at every item from every vendor and took his own time. He didn’t have a garden. He didn’t go skiing. He didn’t have a family to feed. He only ate crackers.
“You should really start dating again. I’ve always thought you were a catch” he said for no reason.
“What about you?”
“Not me, I’m a mess”
“That’s not true. You should try”
I needed to get this month’s food and supplies. I buy a lot at the bazaar because the prices are so good. I had a list. We are on the wrong side of the market now.
“We need to go soon. I want to do a bike ride later” I said.
“Just one more… Let’s just split up then. Text–no–call me–when you want to leave”
I continued shopping. I texted him four times and got no reply. An hour more.
“There you are. You have nothing?”
“No. Nothing good today. All junk.” he said.
I took my heavy boxes to the car. I moved his things out of the way now.
“Did you get a haircut recently?” he dared ask.
“A week ago. You saw it.”
“It looks good”
“I hate my hair. Always boring”
“I don’t think so. I always think you get good haircuts”
I said nothing.
