Regrets.

“Josh I am sorry; I didn’t mean to tell anyone—Honest. “

 I say facing up to my fifteen-year-old brother from my lowered position in the chrome wheelchair to his teenage acne face, where his anger is plain to see.

“Well, you have! “Josh says abruptly standing up, his chair scraping. as he abandons his empty white dinnerplate.

 Partially turning Josh continues palms spread.

“Even though we all--- agreed that we wouldn’t tell anyone about where the money came from to widen the doorways and to buy you that new shiny wheelchair? “

“You think I want everyone knowing how I made that money?”

“I am fifteen who’s going to believe I made it trading grandads share portfolio?”

“People will think I stole it or won it in Lotto? Soon everyone is going to ask me for money!”

Josh says angrily.

Radiant heat sweeps up my neck spreading all over my oval shaped boyish face.

“I am sorry, it just slipped out.” I say allowing my blond head to sink guiltily towards my smaller chest.

“We can’t trust you with any family affairs!” Josh says throwing the accusation javelin like straight through the brotherly admiration I have for Josh. It’s the “We can’t trust you.” that really hurts prompting my next reaction.

“I hate you! "I say turning my boyish face in its suffused reddened state to Josh. Tears escape my cerulean eyes, running down into my lap. Uncaringly sobs begin to escape in sympathy with my slow shaking shoulders.

 “I am sorry-- honest.” I gasp instinctively drawing a forearm across my face.

In sudden desperation, I attempt an escape from the hostile dining room, whitened fingers driving the chrome rimmed wheels forcefully.

“Robby, you come back here!  Just because you’re in a wheelchair doesn’t excuse you.” Dad roars invoking thoughts of disobedience and past punishments.

 So, with rubber on rims turning, I return to the table. I am head low, avoiding all eye contact, seeing only my blue school shirt, grey shorts overlaying the graffitied plaster cast on my right leg.

“That’s better!” Dad says eyeing both Josh and I, as a referee might.

“He’s broken our family agreement, he’s told Colin, now it's probably all over the school!” Protests Josh raising his right arm accusingly then crossing his arms again.

“Josh, ---you can “back off” now. You’ve reduced him to tears.” Dad says flicking his grey eyes commandingly toward Josh with his eyebrows raised. Dad sighs continuing the engagement.

“Robby, how can you say you hate Josh! How could you? After Josh financed that very wheelchair, you’re sitting in?” Dad says exhibiting disbelief.

“And he loaned the family the money to widen the doorways especially for you .“

“I know---. I didn't mean it.” I wail in reply.

“I don't hate him! “I say looking up at Dad through the jewelled prism of tears.

“Sometimes I just wish he hadn't made all that money through the DW8 shares, I feel guilty about the accident, the wheelchair and the family's loan! “I cry out as unsustainable emotions begin coalescing in my impressionable mind.

There's movement out the corner of my eye, our heads turn as one.

Mums coming to her feet swiftly, her palms outwardly raised.

“That's enough Robby, your being plain ungrateful!” Mum decides dispensing a hard mental slap.

“----Sorry” I mouth shrinking back into my wheelchair.

“You had no right to tell anyone for whatever reason, but what's done is done.” Mum says crisply.

“I am not going to sit here and watch you all take Robby to task for a simple error of judgement. He's twelve; he is allowed to make mistakes. We’ve made allowances for you growing up too Josh, so you can get that smug look off your face!” Mum says in a defiant tone.

Joshes eyes widen then his hands drop to his sides. Reactively he prepares to defend himself, but Mum cuts him off.

“I mean it Josh; you're going to have to forgive Robby and find a way to live with it.”

Mum’s plucked eyebrows lower in the centre as her eyes seem to tighten. Thin lipped she stares over to dad then Josh.

“Josh has a point.” Dad begins.

“Not on my watch. I am not choosing between my sons. Mum snaps whip like, her chestnut brown eyes challenging Dad who appears to slump into his chair warily.

“Josh was happy enough to make the money on the shares, even though he didn't tell you Maurice, -- for a whole year! You didn't punish him for making a profit. We were pleased enough to borrow money from him. It's not illegal to do any of those things. Robby admires you Josh which is why he can't just forget your achievements. So, it was natural he would talk to his best friend. After all a hundred and five thousand dollars is a lot of money!”

Mum pauses studying each of us for a reaction.

Head up I manage a small smile, of gratitude.

“Boys your mum is right as usual, but Robby has to apologise first.” Dad rules accepting the facts.                                                       

Josh’s colour is returning to him, his shoulders shrug as he throws me a meaningful look while scooping his abandoned plate from the table then retreating to the kitchen.

It's not said, but with a solemn nod I get the message from Dad.

Wheeling into the kitchen, I see Josh is head down, hands placed either side of the sink in self braced thought.

“Josh, I could never hate you! I only said it because I was angry. I am sorry for saying it and I am sorry for telling Colin too!" I offer up sincerely beginning, the wanting, the waiting, while needing, his acceptance, his decision, so badly.

Josh shrugs as he walks over then puts his hands on my shoulders from behind me.

For a moment I think he will wheel me back into the dining room.

I am surprised when I hear his next words.

“It’s ok, I make mistakes too. He whispers into my right ear.

“And for the record I know you love me too.” He says straightening up.

                                                               The End.