Chapter 17 #2
“Yeah, yeah,” Mason said, holding his head down in shame. “I’m having some issues lately, and then you showed up, we watched the circus from the window, and I forgot, all right? It’s not like they don’t get fed every day.”
“I mean it, Mason. I’ll kick your ass so hard even Google Earth can’t find you when I’m done,” he warned.
“I said, I got it,” Mason insisted angrily as he climbed into the front seat and slammed the door.
“Why does he get to ride up front? I started this trip with you,” Elias complained bitterly.
Owen started the van, put in Dillon’s address, and backed out of the driveway, listening to Mason and Elias bicker about who got the shotgun seat.
The twins banged their cars against the plastic seats, reminding him to pick up some fast food before the kids fell asleep.
He turned onto the main road and spotted a fast-food restaurant and pulled into the drive-thru.
“All right, boys, what do you want to eat?” he called to his new passengers.
“Cheesebugger. Apples” Noah called.
“Me, too, me too,” Nathan chimed in.
“Do we have to eat here? Do you know how many additives they add to this junk? Can’t we find a place with organic food?” Elias asked as he read the menu.
“Dude, it’s your favorite place to eat,” Mason said, turning around.
“When I was eight,” Elias argued. “We already ate fast food. I happen to care what I put in my body.”
Wyatt sat up from the far back. “Good, because when I get out of this, I’m sticking my fist up you—”
“We have kids, keep it G,” Owen warned as his head throbbed. Not even ten minutes in the van, and he already wanted to gag them.
“Get me two double cheese, a large fry, and a soda,” Wyatt said, sulking.
“I’ll take the same,” Mason said quietly, pulling out his wallet.
“I got this,” Owen said as he placed the orders and added his own. Then he pulled around to the next window.
“Want soda. No milk,” he demanded, as Mason passed back the cartons.
“No,” Mason replied. “It’s too late. Thank Uncle Owen for the food,” he said as he tossed Wyatt the burgers.
“Wanna soda,” Nathan whined and rubbed his eyes. “He gots one,” he said, pointing to Wyatt.
“Nope,” Owen said calmly. “I ordered him a milk, too. He has a big boy cup.”
Nathan opened his mouth and let out a piercing scream when he didn’t get his way. “Wanna soda,” he insisted.
Mason covered his ears and closed his eyes, refusing to deal with the situation. Frowning, Owen pulled the van into a parking space and swung open the side door, taking Nathan’s drink away.
“We don’t waste good food. If you don’t want your milk, I’ll drink it. No one will get a soda because it’s past your bedtime. Do you understand?” he asked the startled Nathan, who sobbed.
“No cheesebugger,” he said, whipping the sandwich at Owen’s head. Peering at his brother, Owen made a disgusted snort as he witnessed Mason pull his hat low and pretend as if nothing concerned him.
Unbuckling Nathan, he pulled him from the car seat and set him on the ground. “Do you want to talk about it?”
His nephew crossed his arms and stomped his feet. “Wanna soda,” he yelled.
“It’s not happening, little man,” he said firmly. “We don’t throw food. It’s for you to eat.”
Nathan reared his head back and wailed.
Getting in Nathan’s face, Owen spoke softly, murmuring words of comfort. Nathan’s crying slowly wound down to soft sobs. Rubbing his nephew’s back, he asked, “Do you feel better?”
Nathan rubbed his eyes and nodded.
“Then, let’s get into your big boy seat and go find Uncle Dillon. He loves snakes, too. You can show him yours when we get there.”
“Otay,” he sobbed.
“Big boys apologize when they don’t use their manners. I don’t like it when you throw your food and don’t drink your milk. Don’t you want big muscles like mine?” Owen lifted his arm and showed the little boy. “I got these by eating my dinner and drinking my milk. Let me see yours,” he said.
Nathan held up his tiny arm, making a fist.
Feeling his bicep, Owen nodded. “Yep. They’re starting to grow. Do you want to make them bigger now?”
“Yeah,” Nathan growled.
“What do you say about throwing your food?” he prompted.
“Sowwry,” Nathan said, rubbing his eyes.
Lifting him into his seat, he high fived him and handed him his food. Glancing over at Noah, the tiny boy crammed his burger into his mouth, barely chewing, making Owen frown more.
He closed the door and got into the van, punching his brother in the arm. “Keep an eye on Noah. When’s the last time he’s eaten?” he hissed.
Mason gave him a blank stare, unable to tell him when the boy ate last, pissing Owen off even more. Guilt assailed him. How long did his brother neglect his kids? Owen should’ve returned home earlier.
Driving to Dillon’s, he heard Elias cleaning up the wrappers and making the little ones more comfortable, adding pillows and covering them with blankets.
Wyatt fell back asleep, leaving him and Mason.
“Do you want to talk about what’s going on in your life?” he asked, glancing at his brother.
Shrugging, Mason replied, “I lost my job. Money’s tight these days. I hoped to keep Lucy a couple more weeks while I hunted for another one. She texted me back and said she can’t work for me anymore.”
“Did she say why?
“I owe her money for the past couple of weeks. Noah’s medicine cost more this month. I don’t know how I’ll pay for it without insurance,” he sighed. “I only have enough for another week.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He has seizures. Nora took Noah with her to the store the night of the accident. He suffered a head injury and occasionally gets them. I wish Nora were here. She’d know what to do,” Mason told him.
“Do you know what happened?” he asked softly.
“We planned a big party for her twenty-eighth birthday. The boys still nursed, and Noah didn’t like getting separated from her.
Nathan slept in his crib upstairs, and Noah became fussy.
She thought the drive might calm him down.
We needed a few things from the grocery store, and she volunteered to go while I finished the last bit of decorating.
The guests arrived, Nathan woke up, and I called her phone, only to reach voicemail.
The next thing I know, I opened the door to find two policemen telling me my wife died getting hit by a drunk driver.
Noah stayed in ICU for weeks,” Mason informed him sadly.
“I lost the love of my life. She’s the reason I wanted to become a better man. Now I have nothing.”
“You have two boys who need you. And five brothers who want you,” he reminded him.
Mason huffed. “Five brothers who have never met my family and two kids who deserve more than their old man can give them. They’re better off with Nora’s parents.”
“What the hell, dude? They need their father,” Owen said. “Do you not recall how much you wished Dad showed up for your baseball and hockey games? It didn’t matter we came to every game. You searched the bleachers for him.”
“They’re younger than us. They won’t remember me,” Mason said, staring out the window.
Scratching his beard, Owen held his tongue.
It seemed like Mason gave up on his life the night his wife died.
He put himself in his brother’s shoes and imagined what it might be like if they called him and told him Leslie passed away.
His stomach twisted in knots, and his eyes stung with unshed tears.
After all this time, he never stopped loving the woman he left behind.