Chapter 42
When some people get pissed off, they go quiet on you. A soundless, seething anger. Their jaw locks tight, the bulging muscles the only indication that hard words wait on their tongue. Curses trapped behind their teeth. But the anger is so great that all they can do is exist in stony silence.
That’s my preferred method of showing displeasure.
Unfortunately, every other man in my family gets loud. But not the yelling, screaming kind of loud, where they throw threats.
They just don’t shut up with the shit-talking.
By the second day of our hike, I’m seriously considering veering off the trail and disappearing into the wilds of the Appalachian Mountains just to get some peace and quiet.
In past years, this Thanksgiving hike has been a relaxing few days. Sure, we traverse miles, ending the excursions smelling of sweat and dirt, our muscles sore. But bonding with the other Krauts by going deep into the wilderness was one of my happy places.
No longer.
“I’m feeling a song coming on!” Marvin hollers from farther up the trail, and I try to keep from grinding my teeth.
Singing on the trail isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The noise helps warn bears and the like off.
The problem is the songs Marvin keeps picking.
Maybe he’ll have run out?—
The opening verse of “Steal My Girl” by One Direction comes back to me. Then, Fred, Stewart, and Daren join in like a fucking boy band.
So far this trip, I’ve heard a playlist of:
“Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield
“Steal My Love” by Dan + Shay
“Jolene” by Dolly Parton
“My Best Friend’s Girl” by The Cars
“Don’t Let Him Take Your Love from Me” by The Temptations
And “New Man” by Ed Sheeran. Which was the one I found most offensive because I’m nothing like the prick described in the song.
A heavy weight claps down on my shoulder, and I turn to find my father wearing a commiserating smile.
“They’re just working the jealousy out of their systems. This’ll be cathartic for ’em. We’ll get back to normal after a little more ribbing.”
“Did they practice this?” I growl as I hear them hit a perfect harmony.
“Not sure.” His grin goes crooked. “They could be onstage at the Jam Session, huh?”
“Don’t tell them that,” I mutter.
They’d show up next Friday and name their band the Arthur Kraut Is a Prick Band.
Dad chuckles and hikes past me. I take a moment to let the group get far ahead of me, happy to act as the caboose on this train.
As the strains of their song fade with the distance, I suck in a deep breath of the crisp mountain air. Fall is gorgeous here, the leaves shifting from green to crimson and gold. The sound of a hidden creek pairs with birdsong and the chatter of critters.
I wish Robin were here.
She’d have no problem keeping up. And she’d probably start singing her own song, a touch off-key but more entertainingly than any of those assholes could manage.
I’d encourage her to hike in front of me so I could watch the curls of her hair bounce with each step and admire the way her ass would tense on the steeper slopes.
It wouldn’t be outlandish for her to come. Marvin had a girlfriend who came one time. She was good at copying bird calls. A month later the poor bastard told her she’d look beautiful in an off-the-shoulder, butterfly-sleeved, lace wedding dress. She broke up with him, claiming he was going too fast. Problem is, one of Marvin’s duties for Farm Mountain Marriages is arranging the wardrobes for couples who don’t want to deal with the hassle of finding formalwear themselves. Marvin has a temperature-controlled storage space filled with wedding dresses. I’m pretty sure he knows what kind of gown I’d look good in at this point.
Another Kraut man with a string of failed romances in his past.
Maybe next year, I can invite Robin.
The beauty of the forest around me dims as the truth solidifies in my mind.
Robin might not be here this time next year.
She doesn’t talk about Malcolm Stetson’s son much, but I know he’s still at the shop. That Malcolm still appears to be grooming his kid to take things over.
That hope of owning her own airplane repair business was Robin’s strongest tether to Green Valley. This airstrip is too small for her to open a competing shop. People stick with what they know. We saw that with Barnes Auto Shop. They tried to hold their own against the Winstons, but in the end, there was one car mechanic business left standing. To be fair, I think Joel Barnes was okay with shutting his place down.
But failing at her dream would break Robin’s heart.
And she won’t want to stick in her same position for long once Malcolm retires. To work under a man she’s described as less qualified than her. Robin will go somewhere else, where she can be her own boss.
And whatever is happening between us? She won’t stay for that.
This was a fake relationship to begin with. Even if we’ve changed a few rules, she still doesn’t think of me as long-term.
Not like she thought about Daren.
Jealousy is a painful cramp in my gut. I resume hiking, hoping to rid myself of the discomfort. But with every heavy footstep, I remember when Robin first moved to town. When she packed up her life and followed Daren across multiple states with only the handshake promise of a job at Green Valley Aviation.
All to be with a man who eventually betrayed her loyalty.
For what? A larger pair of boobs?
I still don’t get it. How Daren could’ve had Robin but still wanted someone else. Wanted anything else.
I rub a hard hand over my face, but it does nothing to alleviate the frustration.
All I want is Robin.
Would she let me go with her?
I would if she asked. Until now, Green Valley is the only place that’s ever felt like home. Then, Robin climbed into my lap, kissed the hell out of me, and taught me that, sometimes, home can be a person too.
The problem is, I don’t think she’d invite me to tag along.
I’m part of the messy past she’d be trying to leave behind.
Who wants their rebound following them when they skip town?
I stomp over a collection of roots, twigs, and leaves, crumpling them under my thick soles and frustration.
Fuck, this forest isn’t fixing anything.
For the rest of the day, another five miles, I don’t take in any more scenery. I just glare at the toes of my boots as I step over rocks and try to mentally suppress my obsession with a woman I can’t have.
I’m so tied up in my misery that I almost hike straight past the shelter we’ve staked out for the night. There’s a collection of these simple structures all along the Appalachian Trail. Basically, it’s a platform with a roof and sometimes a firepit. Last night, we shared a space with two southbound hikers, but when I approach the clearing this time, all I see are Krauts.
“Great,” I mutter to myself.
At least with the two strangers at our fire last night, there was a distraction from the Arthur hate-fest.
After a day of brooding, I’m not looking forward to an evening of their shit.
It’s not even the constant badgering that bothers me. Okay, yes, that’s fucking irritating, but it’s not what pisses me off. What’s had my temper at a constant simmer around them for months now is the fact that my family has decided that loyalty only applies to blood.
Where’s the shit that should be heaped on Daren’s head? Yeah, I’m not the pinnacle of brotherly support by seemingly swooping in on my cousin’s girl the minute they broke it off. But I’m also not the only villain in this scenario.
With a sigh, I spread my ground pad and sleeping bag in the far corner of the shelter, then take my turn in the privy. The place is just a shack with a bench and a hole. Honestly, I prefer going in the woods, but since this is a campsite, I stick with the facilities provided.
Our group keeps the chatter to a minimum as we gather wood, fetch water, and set up a portable stove. Once we’re congregated around the campfire, my cousins wait until after I cook them dinner to start in again.
Not directly though. The sneaky bastards opt for a new tactic. They tell stories.
Very specific stories.
“Hey, Daren,” Marvin starts. “Remember when you and Robin went skinny-dipping in Bandit Lake and a raccoon stole your clothes?”
The asshole grins. “Yeah. That was an interesting car ride home.”
“What did Chris Gomez say again? When he pulled you over?”
Daren attempts to mimic the voice of the normally helpful Green Valley deputy. “‘To my knowledge, Green Valley hasn’t changed their statute on indecent exposure. Clothes are still publicly required. But if you two feel strongly about driving in the nude, you could submit an amendment to the Green Valley city ordinance.’Then he gave us a warning and some sweats. Though I wouldn’t have minded if he left those spare clothes in his cruiser.” My cousin’s lips curve in a knowing smile, and I’m sure he’s remembering exactly how Robin looked in his passenger seat, wet and naked.
“And how did Robin take that friendly advice?” Stewart asks through a chuckle.
“Not too well.” Daren’s got his storytelling voice on now. The man is a charismatic fucker when he tries to be. “Leaned right over my lap to glare the poor guy down and said, ‘And what city ordinances are there for thieving raccoons, huh? It’s that asshole rodent’s fault I’m flashing you.’”
The group roars with laughter, and I’m almost tempted to join as I imagine Robin going toe-to-toe with the law without a stitch of clothing on.
But I can’t enjoy the tales when I know there’s a hidden point to it all. Like the trail singing, this is a jab at me.
Then, Fred chimes in with another. Reminiscing on the grand old times when Daren and Robin were together. Those were happy times. When we all thought they were good together. When we thought Robin was going to be Daren’s endgame.
My fists clench on my thighs, and I try to keep my face passive as I stare into the fire.
I’m not the reason things ended. Do they really think I’m the only thing standing between Daren and Robin’s happily ever after?
Do they really think he deserves Robin after what he did to her?
As if reading the thoughts from my head, Uncle Jensen shifts on his log seat to face me, his chuckling tapering off as his mouth drops into a disappointed frown.
I can see the lecture forming in his brain.
Fuck. I should just go roll up in my sleeping bag before I do something I regret.
“I’ve never known you to be selfish, Arthur,” he says, cutting off all conversation with his bald statement. “But you snapping Robin up? You’re a better man than that.”
“Jensen,” my dad grouses at his older brother, not about to stand for a direct attack on me.
“No, Sherman. This needs to be said outright.” My uncle hits me with a fatherly frown, and I try not to be pissed at him.
But it’s so fucking hard.
“Daren and Robin have something special,” he says, as if I haven’t picked up on the theme of this trip.
Yeah. Great. Got it.
It’s all I can do to sit passively and not growl out a string of curses at my cousin and his special connection with the woman I love.
“They were together for two years,” Jensen continues.
I know that too, I want to hiss. I know exactly how much more time Daren’s had with her. Holding her. Listening to her laugh. Kissing every inch of her.
He could have had a whole life with her.
Meanwhile, I get a handful of months.
My uncle shakes his head, radiating frustration. “And it makes me sick to see you take advantage of a bump in their relationship like this.”
My breathing stops, my body turning to stone momentarily as disbelief shudders through me.
A bump?
A.
Fucking.
BUMP?
When I finally suck in my next breath, the air burns in my throat, as if I stuck my head in the fire and inhaled deep. But Uncle Jensen doesn’t notice that rising rage in me, still defending his boy, who’s sitting at his side, looking like a wounded man.
“They just need a moment to work on things. Every relationship has a rough patch?—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I roar.
My question tears through the peaceful night, leaving silence and gaping family members in its wake.
I never raise my voice to my family. Ever. Have never spoken back to my uncle more than a grumble or two.
But this?
I cannot abide this.
“Cheating is not a bump.” I shove up from my seat, looming over the group of men that I’m disappointed in. “It’s not a rough patch. It is a betrayal. Your son devastated Robin. And you sit here, defending him?” I’m panting, heavy, taking gulping breaths, like a bull ready to charge. “Robin is loyal and loving. She deserves the same. She is stronger than anyone I know. She can decide who she is with. And if she doesn’t want to be with an asshole who sleeps with someone the second she leaves town, then you should goddamn respect that.”
My eyes seek out Daren’s, only to find all the color has drained from his face.
“You knew?” he rasps, then shuts his eyes, as if in pain.
As if realizing he just confessed to a sin that was a secret until this moment.
And that’s when I notice everyone in the circle looks a different version of horrified than I expected.
My outburst was out of character, but I braced for pushback after all the accusations they’d leveled against me. This is a family of brawlers. I was ready for a punch.
But that’s not the blow that lands.
“You cheated on Robin?” The quiet question comes from Stewart, somehow more damning from the youngest of us. His voice cracks on her name.
Comprehension hits me so hard that I laugh, though there’s no humor in the noise. My eyes stay on Daren, watching as his gaze stays locked on the dirt between his boots.
“You didn’t tell them.”
Of course he didn’t. A guy selfish enough to be unfaithful isn’t about to out himself to his only defenders.
And he never said anything about it to me because he thought I didn’t know. Because he was too focused on Robin that night to spy the man in the shadows behind her. He never saw me.
These past few months make a lot more sense now. I figured if I knew, the gossip mill in Green Valley must have too. That word of what had happened got to my family either through the loudmouths or from my cousin directly. But I guess that part of their breakup somehow managed to stay unknown. And if Daren only told them he and Robin got into a fight, of course I’d look like the ultimate bad guy.
My frustration with my family dims, especially when I see the devastation that overcomes Uncle Jensen’s expression.
The man buries his face in his hands.
“Dad . . .” Daren starts. But he doesn’t say anything else. What is there to say?
“I thought I raised you better.” Uncle Jensen’s deep voice sounds exhausted. Then, he heaves himself to his feet and meets my eyes across the fire. “I’m sorry, son.” He turns and walks into the woods, taking a moment to himself.
Daren looks lost, but then he turns a glare on me. “That’s why you called me that night? Trying to catch me in the act?”
I hold his eyes and correct him. “Trying to prove to Robin you’d never do something like that.”
He swallows hard, betrayal still burning in his stare. “You were there. When she left.”
It’s not a question, but I nod. “Wasn’t hiding. Thought you saw me. Guess your hands were full.”
Full of Trinity.
Daren leans forward with fury in his tense jaw. “Are you happy now?”
“Shut it,” Fred snaps, moving to stand between me and his brother. “Stop blaming Arthur for your fuckup.”
Daren looks around at his three siblings, discovering all his allies have suddenly disappeared. In a reflection of his father, he launches from his seat and storms off, only in the opposite direction.
The rage that sent me to my feet subsides, and I sink back down on the log next to my father. I worry for a minute that he’ll be unhappy I yelled at his brother. But Dad wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a firm hug.
“Well, I guess I’ve been a piece of shit,” Marvin says, offering me an apologetic grimace.
“We all have,” Fred adds.
“How’s Robin doing?” Stewart asks.
Uncle Jensen can rest easy that he at least raised some of his sons to care about people they might have hurt.
“Better now.”
At least, I think that’s the case. We haven’t talked lately about Daren or anything related to her revenge against him. It’s just been...
Us.
And I want it to keep going that way.
But I don’t know how much longer I’ll have Robin for.
Real or pretend.