Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
boston
I’m finishing up with the yard work and all of my morning farm duties when my phone rings.
It’s Kane, and it’s a FaceTime call. I find myself smiling.
I’m…excited for another phone call with my brother.
How times have changed. A call from my family would typically have me on edge for days.
I’ve somehow started to look forward to them.
I answer, unsurprised to see Bennett’s face way too close to the camera. He grins, breathing heavily into the receiver.
“Hey, big guy.”
“Uncle Boss!” he says, his smile taking up his whole face. “You have to see this! You ready? Watch!”
I stop on the top step of my back porch, a hand on my hip, watching the screen. He’s clearly at a rink, but it doesn’t look like there are many other kids around. He skates forward, shoving the phone into what I can only assume is Kane’s hands, and then books it back to center ice.
I watch my nephew perform some of the nastiest stick handling I have ever seen.
He’s unbelievably fast. It’s the kind of natural talent that makes it abundantly clear that he’ll be in the league one day if he wants to be.
I’m chuckling in disbelief by the time he comes slamming back toward the camera, tearing the phone out of his dad’s hands, asking if I saw.
“You are going to change the game when you get up here, kid,” I tell him, and I mean it. He’s incredible. Pride oozes out of me. I hadn’t even been around to teach him. It was all his own drive and his dad’s dedication. Kane worked with him to get him this far.
“I know!” he admits, making me snort a laugh. Talented? Yes. Humble? Jury is still out. He skates away with a pleased giggle, and Kane turns the camera around, shaking his head in a way that tells me Bennett is the cause of many headaches for him.
“That’s definitely your blood in his veins and not mine,” Kane mumbles, scurrying off the ice and back to the stands.
“Ah,” I say, heading into my house. “You were a great goalie.”
“Yeah, because you and Miller never aimed to score, only to hit me,” he says, shooting me a look. “None of them ever went in.”
I break out into laughter, remembering those days.
We picked on him, yes. We practically forced him to take the goalie role so we could play and practice properly.
Thankfully, Kane didn’t mind it all that much.
He was the best younger brother. He always had way too much optimism and was just happy to hang out with us, no matter what situation we put him in.
“You called at the perfect time. I was just coming in for a coffee.”
“Great. You can have yours in the quiet, peacefulness of your own home, and I’ll have mine listening to kids scream and fall, over and over, on a loop.”
I chuckle again. “What happened to my sunny little brother?”
“Kids,” he snorts, his smile slowly fading. “Life.”
I pause, glancing at the camera.
Yeah. Life did that to us both, he just held out a little longer.
I don’t know why I say it. I don’t know why I offer or why I don’t take a day to think about it, but it’s out of my mouth before I take a second to ponder how he might react to this. I am not an impulsive person. Never have been. Yet, the word vomit forces its way out anyway.
“Why don’t you pack up the wife and kids and come down for a visit?” I ask, and he blinks, looking into the camera in shock. “I want to see that kid’s mitts in action, and I’d love for you guys to come to a game or two. You can stay on the farm with me. There’s more than enough room.”
He stares at me for a second. “Wow. Boston, I—wow.”
“You can say no,” I say quickly, clearing my throat.
Jesus, why did I come on that strong? I should have waited a couple more phone calls before telling him to haul down his entire family to visit his estranged brother.
We haven’t seen each other in years and now I spring this on him?
“I’d love to fly you guys out. See my nephews and my sister-in-law. ”
He shoots me a look. “And your brother.”
I cringe, shrugging. “If he has to come.”
He grins, the weirdness in the air evaporating instantly. “When?”
“You can come for pre-season if you want, but why don’t we plan for October or November?” Because I’m not ready to suggest Christmas. “Talk it over with the wife.”
“We’d pay for it.”
“Please don’t,” I say, letting out a long sigh. “Honestly, Kane. I haven’t been brother of the year throughout our lives. Let me do this for you and the kids. For Bennett.”
He glances away, sniffing, like he can’t look at my face anymore. “I don’t know if I’d be willing to accept that.”
“Think it over.” I understand that overwhelming panic all too well when it comes to our family. I’m not pressuring him.
“Don’t mention this to Bennett until I’ve decided,” he says quietly, “or I’ll never hear the end of it until we’ve physically moved into your house.”
I laugh. “You got it.”
“And Boston?”
“Yeah?” I ask, pressing the buttons on my coffee machine.
“I looked up to you then and I look up to you now. You’ve always been a great brother. Our lives just made it hard for us to keep each other close. We lost too much.”
I stare at him, my throat bobbing. Ouch.
That one had a kick to it. I take a second, absorbing those words from my little brother’s mouth, realizing how much time I lost where I could have had someone.
I cut ties with the whole family just to get away from some of them.
I could have had my brother if I wanted him.
He tried to show me that. I wouldn’t listen.
“Let’s try to get back some of what we lost then, yeah?”
He smiles, eyes sparkling with emotion, and dips his chin. “Yeah.”
I think about Miller. In his shiny office, wearing his shiny shoes, looking down his nose at the rest of us. I don’t think there is hope for him, but there is for Kane and me, and for my relationship with my nephews. That could be enough for me. I think it could be more than enough.
I never thought I’d have any family again.
I stopped imagining a future with my brothers ages ago.
But now? I think it would kill me if my little brother declined my invitation.
I want my future to include him and those three boys, one of which looks exactly like me and acts exactly like his Dad.
I want to try to bridge this gap between us, this hole of darkness that has sat in my chest since the day we lost the littlest one of us.
I want to try.