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always knew where to pass the ball, and Alex always knew Del would be right behind him. But their tacit bond had come apart over the years. Nowadays, Del seemed to hold Alex responsible for betrayals that Alex wasn’t even aware of. Del took another mouthful of beer and swished it around in his cheeks like mouthwash as he looked up at the ceiling, thinking. Alex waited as Del swallowed the beer and continued.
    “OK, so you’re cash constrained right now. I get it. So here’s what I’m thinking, bro: I invested with you on your last house, right? So all I want is to take my money out of it. I get my money back, and I sign over my interest in the house to you. The house’ll be all yours.”
    Alex finally took a drink from his own bottle, a small sip. “That’s a cool idea, bro ,” Alex said, “but it doesn’t address the fact that I have no cash to buy you out with.”
    Del didn’t seem to hear him. He just kept on repeating the rationale that he must have told himself a thousand times. “It’s statistics, Alex. Reversion to the mean. College basketball scores have been out of whack all season, they’ve got to snap back into the pattern. All the math says so. All logic says so—”
    “I don’t have the cash, Del.”
    “I’ll cut you in on the upside.”
    “Jesus, Del, I don’t want to invest with you.”
    “Don’t say it like I’m contagious. You could go back to the bank —”
    Alex laughed loudly.
    “—or ask Mom, or Uncle Hugh, or—”
    Alex raised his voice. “I made a bad investment, Del, and it’s hurting me as much as it is you, but that’s something we both have to live with.”
    “Yeah, we do. But the bottom line is, I gave you money, I need it back now, and you say you can’t give it to me. That seems like a problem.”
    Del gave Alex a hard look. Alex wasn’t intimidated —just insulted that his own brother would try this Godfather crap on him. He reached out and grabbed Del’s T-shirt. “Don’t come in here and talk to me like one of the knee-cappers who you say are—”
    Del slapped Alex’s hand away. “You don’t believe me?”
    It took a lot of effort for Alex not to react in kind. “I never doubt your ability to get into trouble.”
    Alex had been a decent older brother, he thought, not unusually mean to Del when they were kids. Their mom blamed Del’s troubles on their father, but Alex saw them as an overgrowth of Del’s strengths. Del was always heedless and bold, willing to take great risks for a chance at a great reward, for a chance to distinguish himself among Alex and his older, stronger friends. As his older brother, Alex had encouraged Del’s fire. On the basketball court, Del would always try to take the ball to the hoop, even when the result was slapstick failure. By the time Del reached college, his athletic skill was no laughing matter, and Alex was so proud of the little brother who had exceeded his own success in sports. But Del flamed out after a year and a half —he couldn’t focus his energy. He had to be number one at everything—on the court, with girls, with money, which of course he didn’t have, with drinking—and he wasn’t number one. And then he wasn’t on the team, and then he wasn’t in school and then . . .
    Del finished the beer in one long draught and set the bottle on the counter. He looked at Alex and shrugged.
    “That’s fair, I guess,” Del said. “But I thought being family still meant something.”
    “I’m not Mom. So spare me the guilt trip.”
    Del’s fingernails worked the label off his beer bottle, working inward from the edges. “Do you hate me that much?” he asked without looking up. “I mean, not returning my calls—fine, you’re a busy guy, I can accept that. But all this cloak-and-dagger shit, pretending not to be home? It’s like you’re obsessed with giving me the room to fail.”
    No , Alex wanted to yell, you’re obsessed with yourself . Instead, Alex took the bottle from Del and put it in