He threw open the front door and stepped into the living room where Reese was finally sitting up, his head in his hands, and Aaron and Casey were eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and watching ESPN.
“We got a problem,” he said.
“Could you not yell?” Reese groaned.
“Ben’s run off.”
“What else is new?” Aaron asked, not taking his eyes off the TV and the baseball highlights.
“He’s not in the barn.”
Aaron glanced over, Annie’s eyes in his man-boy face. Brought Jeremiah up short every damn time. Aaron put down the sandwich and stood up. “Casey and I will take the ATV,” he said.
“I’ll saddle Rider and check out the creek.”
“What can I do?” Reese asked.
“Stay here in case he comes back.”
“Oh thank God,” he muttered and flopped backward on the couch.
“It will be okay, Uncle J,” Aaron said as he and Casey put on their boots. “He always comes back.”
Grateful for the help, for the optimism, Jeremiah clapped his hand on the eleven-year-old’s shoulder, wishing things weren’t the way they were. Wishing these boys could just be boys, and he could just be an uncle, and that every situation didn’t have the capacity for disaster.
Lucy drove up to the small house she’d grown up in, happy to see the red climbing roses Sandra had cultivated still creating a green canopy on the south end of the house. It wasn’t warm enough for blooms yet, but every summer the perfume of those flowers would fill the air that came in through the window of her old bedroom.
Wild roses were the scent of her childhood. Of a warm, safe home. It was the scent of her family all together. In Los Angeles Sandra grew roses in pots on the balcony of their condo. But they weren’t the same. They had to combat the smell of exhaust and smog and Mr. Lezinsky’s cabbage rolls. And they didn’t bloom with the same wildness, the same gorgeous display of excess.
Sort of like Sandra, she thought.
She stopped in front of the yellow house with its white shutters and a bright red front door that would, in a few weeks, perfectly match the roses at the side of the house, and called her sister. For the hundredth time this morning.
“Jeez, Lucy,” Mia finally answered, lewdly out of breath. “Take a hint would you?”
“Oh, for crying out loud. I’m outside. Stop whatever it is you two are doing. We need to talk.”
By the time she got out of the car and past the roses, Mia was kissing Jack in the open doorway.
“Your shirt is done up wrong,” Lucy pointed out, and Jack’s hands flew to fix the buttons on the black shirt he wore, revealing pale skin and muscle.
“Stop staring at my husband,” Mia said.
“I’m sorry. I can’t stop. I didn’t think hydroengineers were supposed to have bodies like that.”
“Mine does. Now git.” Mia pushed Jack out the door. “I’ll meet you and the architect in an hour.”
“Wait,” Lucy said, stopping Jack from walking down the steps. “We have a situation up at the ranch house.” She filled Jack and Mia in on Walter’s sprained ankle.
“How long was he sitting there?” Jack asked.
“Doctors said, according to the amount of fluid in his foot, at least two hours.”
“Stubborn son of a bitch,” Jack muttered.
“Well, he’s in an air cast and is supposed to stay off it for at least three weeks. And that’s best-case scenario. And now Mom is talking about staying until Walter gets on his feet.”
“Well, that’s handy, isn’t it?” Jack blinked at Mia and then Lucy, as if the problem were solved.
Men, she thought, so dense.
“I’m not going to let our mom care for your dad. Not after what he did,” Lucy said.
“I agree with Lucy,” Mia said when it looked like Jack was going to argue. “We should just move back to the house. I can—”
“No!” Jack said quickly. “I mean, I will move back if we have to, but…”
Mia ran a hand down his arm. That house didn’t have a whole lot of happy memories for Jack.
God, what a mess. Lucy didn’t want to go home, but she didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want Mom taking care of Walter, but it was utterly unfair to ask these two to do it.
Mom wants to do it, she reminded herself.
“Mia,” Lucy said. “You guys deserve a little time alone. You’ve been caring for that man for five years.”
Jack and Mia shared a look and then Jack nodded. “We were just talking about this. Getting a housekeeper who could act as a nurse.”
Mia pushed away from the white doorframe to cup her husband’s cheek. It was too bad they were going to move out of this little house. It looked pretty on her sister. Sweet.
“It won’t be easy to find someone to take Walter on, much less get Walter to agree to it,” Mia pointed out.