Brian and Anyone or No One
It was funny. At the trailer park, Brian missed Mia and Jack and Dom every time he heard the familiar strains of Don Omar coming out of one of the neighbors' windows, or caught the scent of pollo asado on Sunday afternoon. But, it still seemed almost normal. It was so close to home he could almost imagine they'd just gone out for groceries and would be back soon. There would be teasing about what kind of cars caught Jack's attention as they drove.
But, sitting around the pool at a hotel in Napa that even Rome couldn't complain about, it hit him hard for the first time in three months. If they didn't find their way to the right dimension, he wasn't going to see his family again. His son was going to grow up just like he had, wondering if his dad had even cared.
And Brian wasn't one who wanted to brood. Dom was the brooder. Brian was the one who took things in stride, which is how he wound up in the pool instead of standing around it eating. They were always eating with these people. It reminded Brian of those church ladies who answered every crisis and celebration with food. Brian preferred activity. Actually, the only time he'd ever truly enjoyed the food and the company had been those backyard barbeques at Dom's before everything went to hell with the truck heists. So, he swam laps. A lot of laps.
It wasn't as calming as driving. But, it would do. After awhile, he pulled himself out and flopped down on the nearest lounge chair. "Somebody pass me a beer," he said to no one and everyone in the general area, grinning that dimple-baring pretty boy grin he'd never outgrown. "Just make it a Corona."