14. brooks #2
By the time I park my truck outside the main house, it seems like the evening is already in full swing.
Solly and his grandfather, one of our recently-retired-but-still-family ranch hands, are on the front porch with Big John and Derrick Tanner, a beer in each of their hands.
I smirk. Solly ain’t old enough to drink until Friday, but it don’t look like anyone cares much for that technicality.
I leave my truck behind Everett’s, and greet the guys as I walk through the porch into the house.
“Hey, look who made it!” Ruth stands to throw her arms around my neck when she sees me slip into the kitchen, and heads turn in response to her words.
“Hi, honey.” Mama Tanner is next in line. She stretches on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “There’s beer, lemonade, and sweet tea in the fridge. Grab yourself something, the chilli is almost ready.”
I do exactly that, heading for the fridge. The room is suspiciously quiet, especially considering how many cars and trucks were parked out front.
“Where is everyone?”
“Ev, Dean, and your parents are outside with Emmy Jean and the Kitcheners,” Mama Tanner starts. “Ashton went to the bathroom, but I think she was headed out there, too.”
“So it’s just you ladies in here,” I say, nodding to myself as I process the information.
I pull up a stool next to Ruth. Harriet is at the stove, stirring an enormous pot with a spoon in one hand, and resting her other hand on her baby bump.
Mama Tanner is opening bags of chips and pouring them onto serving platters.
“Talia’s joining us tonight,” Ruth says nonchalantly. “You know Talia, right?”
“Everyone in this town knows Talia,” I confirm with a laugh. “Everyone in this town knows everyone.”
“Of course,” Ruth says. “Sometimes I forget this isn’t London and people here do know each other. People here actually like each other. Anyway, Tal is joining us, and I think she’s trying to convince Henry to come, too.”
I haven’t seen Henry Duquette Jr. for a while.
I’m pretty sure he was at the bar when we went out for Ashton’s welcome home drinks, but we haven’t really spoken.
I’m overdue a haircut, so maybe I’ll swing by and see him at the barber shop sometime soon.
He’s a year older than me, and he was always in the most advanced classes in school, so I don’t know him all that well.
He’s always been close with Talia, though, and she’s a great judge of character.
“So, what’s new with you, ladies?” I ask as Ashton appears in the doorway.
“What do you want, demon?” she asks. “We’re having girl talk in here.”
“Can’t I join you?” I ask. I raise a brow pointedly as Ashton folds her arms across her chest, cocking a hip in a defensive stance.
She looks just like she did in her teens, when she was sick of us boys, but even more beautiful now she’s older and smarter, and somehow even sassier.
The memory of Ashton blocking her bedroom door in a similar stance when her friends came over—or when she was watching romcoms and didn’t want us boys interrupting and making fun of them—makes me smile.
“You a girl?” she asks.
“I’m all man, little devil,” I answer with a smug smile and a raise of my eyebrows. Her eyes flicker, her nostrils flare as she sucks in a sharp, quiet breath.
“Then nope,” she says. She pops the P and Harriet snorts lightly. Mama Tanner smirks. Ruth pats my bicep consolingly.
“Sorry, Brooks,” Ruth says. Her tone is faintly apologetic, but the mirth that sparkles in her dark eyes tells me she’s enjoying herself far too much. She ain’t sorry at all.
“Fine,” I grumble lightly. “Guess I’ll be out back, then. At least Emmy still loves me.”
“Eh,” my sister says. “She can be bought.” I turn to face her even as I walk toward the mudroom and the back door.
She’s grinning mischievously. I use two fingers to point at my own eyes and then use just my index finger to point at her.
I’m watching you, I tell her silently. She sticks out her tongue at me and I belly-laugh as I leave the room.
I jog down the steps of the back porch into the fenced-off backyard to find my mom, Dean, Everett, Henry, and Talia kicking an inflatable ball between them in a circle, with Emmy and the dogs in the middle, chasing it and shrieking with joy.
The Kitcheners—Gordy and his wife and six-year-old son, along with my dad—are over by the wooden jungle gym we used to play on as kids.
Gordy and his wife both work here on the ranch.
“Unky Book!” Emmy squeals when she sees me. “Play socks-ah!”
“We’re playing soccer, huh? That sounds like fun. May I join in?”
“You play too!”
Everett steps aside, making space between himself and Dean, and I join the circle opposite Talia.
“Hey, Tal. Ruth is inside. Ash, too.”
“Hey, Brooks,” she offers in return. “I figured they would be. Henry parked around the side ‘cause y’alls driveway is full, and, well, Miss Emmy Jean demanded we play.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right. Sounds like my EJ.” I kick the ball that rolls to my feet, aiming vaguely in Henry’s direction.
He intercepts the ball and kicks it toward my mom.
Emmy runs to Dean, and just like that, the game is over.
Everett wanders toward the jungle gym with Dean and Emmy, and Mom and I head inside with Henry and Talia.
Ashton is in the middle of telling a story, holding court in the kitchen with everyone hanging onto her words.
“Well, I asked, and they said it was just tuna, so I didn’t think I had to worry. But I guess there was somethin’ more in there, cause ten seconds in I could hardly breathe. Lucky I took it home before I took a bite.”
“Lucky you had your pen close by,” Mama Tanner says with a frown. “Ashton, you know how serious your allergy is.”
Harriet drops the spoon she’s holding into the vat of chilli and crosses the kitchen to Ashton, wrapping her arms around her. Mama Tanner’s expression is caught somewhere between anger and sadness. Ruth’s frown turns indignant. I’m positive she’s about to say something when Ashton speaks again.
“Ain’t like I did it on purpose, Mom,” she protests.
Harriet adjusts her arms around Ashton and opens her mouth to speak before Ash continues, “I’m fine, y’all.
I promise. I knew what was happening and I used my EpiPen, and then I saw a doctor who said I was fine.
It really ain’t that deep. It was an accident, and now I don’t buy tuna sandwiches anywhere. ”
My hands flex by my sides, fingers closing into fists, and my chest tightens.
It’s hard to breathe normally and I find myself fighting for each breath.
Maybe this is what Ashton meant earlier, when she said she hadn’t forgotten about her allergies.
I’m furious at myself for forgetting, especially having seen firsthand how serious her allergy is and how severely it affects her.
I’m furious at whoever made and sold Ashton that sandwich.
I’m furious that I didn’t know about it.
And I’m furious that I can’t do what I desperately want to right now: sweep her into my arms and protect her from the world.
“Are you sure it’s not a development of your allergy? You remember what the doctor in Austin said years ago, right? That you ought to be careful with regular fish too, just in case? Allergies can develop out of nowhere, you know.”
“I really don’t think it’s that, Mom,” Ashton says. “Anyway, it was months ago. I am fine. I promise.”
“Will you make an old lady feel better by making an appointment with Doctor Joe while you’re home?” my mom asks. “Just to be sure, Ashton. We worry so much about you when you’re so far away.”
“I know,” Ash sighs. She grabs onto Harriet’s arms, still hanging around her shoulders, and tips her head to the side to rest against my sister’s elbow.
“I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about.
But I’ll call Doctor Joe. And if it makes you happy, Mom, I’ll ask about getting an allergy test for regular fish, too. ”
“That would make me very happy,” Mama Tanner concedes. “I just need to be sure. I need for you to be safe.”
“We really love you, Ash,” my sister mumbles into Ashton’s head. “And I can’t take these two whining about hoping you’re looking both ways before crossing the mean city streets all the time, so please, for the love of god, come home when you’re done with school?”
Ruth cackles. It’s a real witchy laugh and it eases some of the discomfort in my chest as the mood in the entire room begins to lighten. Ashton looks up at Harriet, and then between her mom and mine.
“Jeez, are you in cahoots with Ellison, or something? You know she’s been texting me every month for the last two years about coming home? Hell, even Old Man Alan asked me if I’m coming home for good once I’m done in the city.”
“This is your home, Ashton,” Mama Tanner says. The words come with certainty—it’s not a stern reminder, but not really a gentle one, either. “We want you to be happy. And to know that you’re always welcome whenever you’re ready to come back.”