Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Bax
“Our house is done!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bea rushed to say when Devo jumped up and down next to the grill like a little kid. “I didn’t say ‘done.’ I said ‘almost done.’”
Abey and Devo arrived shortly after Bea, and they dragged more lawn chairs from the garage to the back yard.
Athena and Shaylene lay on a blanket by the edge of the tree line, bundled up in fleece hoodies, gossiping and looking up at the stars starting to pop in the early evening sky.
The way Athena’s hands painted pictures in the air, I was sure they were talking about boys.
Or girls. But definitely about the dance she’d been begging me to let her go to with this shady Logan character.
I’d tried to start a fire in the firepit, but Bea was too scared I’d fall in, so she did it herself. It raged now, throwing off heat and sparks and lighting up our little gathering. She’d run into the house to find my slippers so my feet wouldn’t freeze.
How sweet was that?
“Bea,” Devo said, “I distinctly remember the word ‘drywall.’”
Bea laughed. “I did say ‘drywall.’”
“That means practically done.” Devo squealed, and she wrapped her arms around my sister’s waist and squeezed.
“Thank you,” Abey told Bea, slinging her arm over Devo’s shoulder. “Really. We can’t wait to get in there.”
“I haven’t done much,” Bea said. “But you’re welcome.”
“Babe,” Devo said, looking up at Abey with pitiful puppy dog eyes. “I need the credit card. I’ve been makin’ those lists on my phone, and now I gotta order all the stuff! We need curtains and rugs and cleanin’ supplies. Oh, we could pick up that couch you liked and store it at the rental.”
“The rental is smaller than a garage. It won’t fit in there.”
“You’re right. Okay, well, we could store it at the community center.”
“Or, and just hear me out, but why don’t we wait till the house is actually ready and buy the couch then?”
Devo tsked, her excitement waning just a little. “Fine. Aren’t you excited at all?”
“’Course I am,” Abey said. “I can’t wait to live with you in our house on my family’s land. C’mere.” She pulled Devo closer. Devo pushed up on her toes, and they kissed.
Bea looked at the grass, her cheeks pinking softly.
“How do you like your steak?” I asked her.
She looked up at me, and the longing I saw in her eyes for the kind of love and connection my sister and her fiancée had with each other was suddenly plain to see.
“Medium rare.”
“Me too,” I said and smiled.
“Bax, you know we like ours medium, right?” Devo asked.
“Yep.”
“Thanks. Abey, come in the house with me. The Wi-Fi sucks back here and I wanna show you the coffee table I found.”
They skipped off toward my house and left me and Bea alone again. She rose from her chair and lifted the grill’s hood, then grabbed the tongs and began to flip the steaks. The melted fat dripped from the rack and sizzled on the charcoal briquettes below.
When I was standing behind her, I reminded her, “You said I could flip.”
My breath rushed over her shoulder and little wisps of her hair played in the air. I tucked them behind her ear, and she shivered.
Without turning to face me, she held the tongs up and snapped them together twice. “Here.”
Letting my right crutch fall to the grass next to the grill, I put tentative weight on my bad leg. It held up, but my left leg and crutch supported most of my bulk. I took the tongs from Bea’s fingers, and she stepped to my side and let me flip the steaks.
“You got quiet,” I said.
“I did?”
“Yeah, when my sister kissed Devo.”
“Oh. It’s just that it was such an intimate moment, you know? Private.”
“Yeah, but they don’t mind. They’ve had to fight a lot of bigotry in their lives, separately and together, so now they like showin’ affection in public. Plus, it helps that this is our family land.
“This is where Abey feels the most comfortable. Which is kinda weird when I think about it since my house is the same house she grew up in, the same house in which my dad treated her like a second-class citizen because she was gay. But I guess she knows I don’t hold the same opinion.
Athena certainly doesn’t, so I hope she feels at ease here. ”
Bea smiled softly. “That’s really sweet, Bax.”
I shrugged. I didn’t mean for it to be sweet. It was just how things were.
Bea said, “I’ve never had love like that.”
“No? Not with your ex?”
“No.” She shook her head. “We were young. It wasn’t love.
It was infatuation on his part. And I was just lookin’ for…
I dunno. Attention? I felt so alone when my dad died.
I was alone. I just wanted someone to care about me.
I wanted to know there was one person in the world who cared if I was late after work or who’d listen if I had a bad day. Or a good day.
“It didn’t take long for me to realize I’d chosen the wrong person.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, sorry you felt alone.”
She shrugged one shoulder, twisting her lips.
If I wasn’t wrong about the little flash I’d seen in her eyes before she turned her head away, there were tears glistening there.
I balanced on my good leg and switched my crutch to my right side, then leaned on it, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.
“I care.”
She tucked her head against my chest, still hiding her face from me. “Thank you. Even if your care only lasts five minutes, it feels good.”
“Best s’more I’ve ever eaten,” Abey told the girls, and they responded with “Mm-hm,” both their mouths full of the gooey treats.
Athena had a glob of marshmallow stuck to the edge of her lip, and she held her hands up in the air so she wouldn’t get the sticky mess on her clothes while she chewed.
“Aubrey’s apple pie was pretty good too,” I said. “She could win competitions with that stuff.”
Everybody nodded, and Athena licked the marshmallow off her bottom lip. “I’m gonna ask her to teach me her recipe so I can make it for Logan. He loves apple pie.”
I had to try really hard not to groan out loud.
Athena’s light brown hair was a mix between Candy’s blond and my brown, but right now, she looked so much like her mama.
Memories swirled in my head of Athena as a carefree four-year-old, running around this farm, chasing animals, getting dirty, and being happy.
But my reality was that she was more like Candy had been in high school.
God, that really smarted. Why couldn’t she stay my little girl forever?
Bea watched Athena, too, and I wondered what was going through her head.
“Best steak I’ve ever eaten too,” Bea said.
“Damn straight,” I replied, and I dropped my empty plate in my lap so I could flex my biceps. “Man make steak. Man eat steak.”
Devo laughed. “Man fall on his butt like a toddler.”
“Hey,” I said. “Man has a broken leg. He can’t help it.”
“Yeah,” Abey added with a chuckle, “because man tripped over his own foot.”
I laughed and relaxed back into my recliner. “Who wants to help me carry this chair back into the house?”
Athena had been watching me. All night, I’d felt her quizzical gaze.
She had to be registering the difference in the energy between Bea and me.
At the very least, she’d noticed how I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Bea most of the evening, but I’d just said the magic words, and at the same time, both girls yelped, “Not it!” They scrambled to their feet, grabbed the blanket they’d been sitting on and the empty baking tray, and took off toward the house, giggling the whole way.
“Lemme translate that,” Abey said. “What you meant was who wants to carry that old, heavy POS back into the house, ’cause you sure as hell ain’t gonna do it.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ll do it, and then we’ve gotta head out. I have to be at the station early tomorrow.”
“Really?” Devo whined. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Yep.” Abey stood and folded her lawn chair. “Frank’s coachin’ football practice, and Dan’s out sick with the flu. Roxi, Shelley, and I have our work cut out for us.”
“Dang it. I was hopin’ for some snuggle time with my woman.” A guilty grin grew on Devo’s lips. “Plus, you’re more susceptible to shoppin’ propaganda when you first wake up.”
Abey rolled her eyes again, but laughed. “Fine,” she said. “If it’s cool with Theo, buy the damn couch and have it delivered to the center.”
“Eeeee!” Devo jumped in place. “Thank you.”
Bea stood and folded her chair too.
“Help,” I said, holding my hands out to her. “I’m old and I can’t get up.”
She laughed. “C’mon, old timer.” She grabbed hold of my hands, planted her boots in the grass, and tugged.
God, her laugh .
The sound was gritty and sexy, and it made goosechills rise on the back of my neck. It felt like I knew her when she laughed like that. Like I’d heard it before and her happiness had been ingrained deep inside my soul.
Feeling the inexplicable connection we seemed to share when my skin touched Bea’s, a beat of anticipation shot through my body, and I stood and grabbed my crutches leaning against the side of the chair.
My sister and Devo picked up my recliner and lumbered with it toward the house, grunting and arguing with each other about who was going to drop their side on whose foot.
Bea had been gracious about the sketchpad I’d been trying to hide from her all night. She hadn’t peeked once, but when they lifted the chair, it fell open on the grass by my feet.
She bent to pick it up, but when she saw the drawing of the house I’d sketched, she gasped. “Bax, you drew this?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged as best I could with the crutches. “It’s not a big deal. I’m not that good. It’s just somethin’ I do to pass the time.”
“‘Not that good’? This is beautiful. It’s so realistic.” She looked up at me, and the awe I saw in her eyes nearly knocked me back down on my ass.
“Thank you.”
“Seriously,” she said, trailing her finger over the roof of the house in the picture, “it’s like I could walk onto the page, open the door, and step right into your house. How did you learn how to do this?” She looked up at me, her green eyes almost gray in the growing dark.
“Dunno. I’ve just always scribbled, you know?
I never really had time to focus on it. When I was younger, we had the sheep farm, and our dad never let us relax.
There was always somethin’ that needed to be done.
And then when he passed and I took over, it was worse ’cause it was all on my shoulders.
“Lately though, I’ve had time.”
“What else have you drawn?” she asked, and she balanced the sketchpad over her arm so she could flip the page with her finger.
“No! Don’t look at that.”