Chapter 6
Derek wasn’t too proud to admit that he bailed when life got too real or complicated. It was his M.O. Facing danger? No problem. Working hard? Piece of cake. But when emotions were involved, he walked. Hell, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him in the opposite direction. Or he skulked in hallways like he was now.
Tommy was home from rehab, and still angry. Angry at the world and even angrier with Derek, who had no idea what to say or how to make it right.
Ben leaned on the door frame of Tommy’s room, flashing a bright, easy smile. And here Derek was, skulking and eavesdropping as Ben said all the right things to Tommy. All the things Derek should say to his twin. But nausea churned in the pit of his stomach, burning back up his throat, causing a lump filled with regret and guilt. It made speaking impossible. Words were beyond him.
The guilt was becoming all-consuming. Derek should never have bailed on Afghanistan. They had planned to sign up for the armed forces together. He should have been at his brother’s side, having his back instead of staying home, and stabbing him in it. And by the hostility he saw in Tommy’s eyes, his brother agreed.
Derek may not have shown it at the funeral they had thrown for Tommy, but he had been irrevocably shattered by his twin’s presumed death. Now, miraculously, Tommy was home and had survived a nightmare, offering them both a second chance. However, it felt just as insurmountable as death. Tommy was alive, and now Derek was the one dead to him.
A lifetime of memories assaulted Derek as they sat round the large harvest table for Sunday dinner. The good, the bad, and the unimaginable. It should not feel so unnatural and awkward.
Countless times they had sat at this table, angry at the other, sometimes even sporting a black eye or fat lip. Other times, they joked around, and made fun of each other. It was all the normal fighting and teasing that was brotherly love.
Yet it was the dinner in October, three years earlier, that stuck out the most in his memory. The dinner two men interrupted, delivering the devastating news that Tommy was lost in an explosion and presumed dead.
He pushed the food around his plate, forcing that memory away. His eyes drifted across the table. Tommy appeared just as uncomfortable and refused to look his way. His brother’s silence cut deeper than any insult could have and hurt more than a hard and fast punch to the nose.
That first Sunday dinner was pure torture. When the following Sunday rolled around with Leighton invited, he pulled a Derek and bailed. If last week was torture, this one with Leighton sitting at the table would be combustible.
This was probably one of the very first Sunday dinners where he sat at Patty’s Pub ordering the Guinness stew. If he couldn’t enjoy his mom’s pot roast, then this was the second-best option.
“Isn’t it Sunday?”
His head shot up, the spoon halfway to his mouth. Jayna Sutton. Karma had it in for him.
“Yeah, so?”
“So, your mom always cooks a feast. One you never miss!”
He lowered the spoon, setting it in the steaming bowl. How he wished there was another restaurant in town. Sure, there was the steak house by the river. However, he had dated the chef. More like they went on one date, and he stood her up for the second. Apparently, she was still holding a grudge. Last time he’d been there, he ordered a medium rare T-bone and a baked potato. The steak had been burnt crispy and the potato was undercooked. “Compliments of the chef,” the server had smugly told him when she set his plate in front of him .
He glared up at Jayna. “For someone who claims to have zero interest in me, you sure are keeping close tabs.”
She pulled out a chair, and his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, please sit down. Or don’t! I was enjoying my stew and beer.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” Jayna gave him a toothy smile.
“You’re ruining my appetite.”
“I didn’t want to mention it, but you’re getting pudgy around the middle. It probably wouldn’t hurt to skip a meal and lay off the beer.”
His jaw clenched. “I am not!”
Setting her elbows on the table, she placed her chin on a closed fist, staring at him. Did the woman never blink? It was creepy.
“What?” he used his best grumpy old man voice.
“Why aren’t you at home with the rest of your family?”
“No reason. I just wanted some alone time.” He emphasized the word alone.
“I heard Tommy’s home. How is he doing?” Jayna failed to catch his not-so-subtle hint to leave.
“He’s doing okay,” he answered evasively.
“Kylie mentioned Leighton was invited to dinner tonight.” Jayna lifted her chin and then slapped her hands against the table. “Oh, that’s why you’re here!”
“Why would that be the reason?”
She scoffed loudly. “Come on Derek, it’s painfully obvious that you’re hung up on her.”
“I am NOT. Ivy, can I have a takeout container and my bill, please?” he asked the server. What was painfully obvious was that Jayna was a pain in his ass.