118. Thick, Chunky Soup
THICK, CHUNKY SOUP
LAYTON
“Dude, are you trying to wait through ‘no shave November’ or what?” Braxton points at my face as he pours a cup of coffee at Pop’s. He’s been by more since dinner when Emberleigh put us all in check.
He has a good woman. I’ve been MIA for so long, either in Florida or at my house near the lake that I’ve lost some connection here. And since Mom… well, I haven’t even been at the lake. I checked out to a different time zone. As if the distance would actually make my heart breaking not hurt so bad.
But that means I’m also really just getting to know Emberleigh and Willa. And both are exactly what my brothers need. Strong, smart, reliable women. Vastly different but equally perfect for their men.
So when Emberleigh put her foot down with everyone and explained what it meant to be a Ranger, I was a bit taken aback. Mostly because she was exactly right. But also because she called Brax on his bullshit.
And because he listened.
I scratch my fingers into my beard—a new tic or habit that I use when I want to buy time. “I like the beard.”
“It’s very—” He uses his hands to gesture for fat or billowing. “Unruly.”
“Fitting,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” he says, though mostly to himself, as he sits in the chair to my left. It seems my brothers, consciously or unconsciously, have taken my weak side as a flank. I wonder if it’s intentional. I wonder if they know I’ve noticed.
He looks at an alert pinging on his phone. “So I did a thing. And I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”
I whip my head over my shoulder to look him square in the face. His chin is set, but his eyes show trepidation where there is typically none.
“What does your thing have to do with me?”
I pull on the ends of my beard near my chin, clumping the hair there together, making the too-full scruff pointy. It’s only for a moment because it’s going to do what it wants to do… just like everything else in my life.
I hear the gravel in front of Pop’s house crunch under tires and the big engine of a diesel truck shut off.
“I did for you what I would want done for me, in hindsight at least. And that thing…? Well, it’s just arrived.” He stands and walks to the front door, pulling it wide, stepping out onto Pop’s wide wooden porch.
I’m so sick of being the kid, the helpless one, the one who doesn’t know what’s best for himself, the one who needs someone else to fix my problems.
Or, more accurately, the problem that someone else needs to fix.
“What did you do?” I stand, anger fueling me as I move to the open door.
To my horror, I see Emberleigh behind the wheel and next to her is…
Livy. Pix exits Braxton’s truck, bypassing the step and sliding down onto one foot, where she hops a little and reaches back to pull open the rear passenger door.
Kyle lumbers out, releasing a howl when he does, and heads to the nearest tree to christen it, snuffling around the big oak.
“Pix? Kyle?”
Both turn in unison, but Kyle is faster. He takes several long strides, tail sailing wildly, and leans into me. I reach down to stroke his head and see a bandage the size of a postal envelope behind his front shoulder. “What happened, boy?”
Livy takes a set of crutches from Emberleigh and looks up at me. Her face is discolored and her eye is swollen. What the fuck?
I hobble down the stairs, fighting what feels like ripping in the muscles in my left hamstring, until I’m in front of her. “What happened?” I reach up and brush my middle finger over her cheek.
“Let’s just say I may be small, but I’m mighty.” She smiles and bites her bottom lip.
“You’re both. Always both. But you didn’t say what happened. And…”
I turn to look at my eldest brother, the light finally dawning. My eyes are hard. His are hard back. “Later,” I spit. He nods and slides an arm over Emberleigh’s shoulders, dropping his mouth to hers to give her a kiss.
Livy runs a hand down my forearm, leaving fire in its wake. “Hi, Layton. It’s been a while.”
As always, the woman in front of me draws my attention every time she’s near me. “Too long, Pix. I’ve had some things going on.”
“Yeah. I heard.” She looks around me to the porch and the duo there. “Why do I get the feeling Layton is surprised to see me?”
Braxton shrugs, and Emberleigh turns her face up to her fiancé. “You didn’t talk with him?”
“He’s been—”
“Braxton Ranger, you didn’t!” She shrugs out of his hold and marches down to us. “Livy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Turning to me, she says, “Layton, I thought you knew. But since that’s obviously not true…” She turns to give a death glare over her shoulder at my brother before turning back. “We hired Livy. She’s agreed to work with you in your rehabilitation.”
“What rehabilitation?” I seethe.
“The one the Layton Ranger I knew would’ve insisted on,” Livy says beside me.
“And no one thought to consult me about it?”
“You and your dad are cut from the same cloth, you know? He said the same thing to me at the hospital. Maybe those exact words. It’s like déjà vu.”
“What are you talking about?” My rage is tempered. Her beauty and her calming presence suck back the betrayal I feel at my oldest brother.
“I’m talking about when I came to the hospital to see you.
The three times I had to leave my phone with security because they assumed I wanted photos for the press.
The three times I had to give the password to the guard, only to be turned away by your dad who shielded you like a father should. I’m talking about those times.”
My jaw goes slack. “You came to the hospital?”
“Of course, I did. I’m your friend. I was also part of your rehab team. Not that you accepted anything in that respect, though.”
My mind is spinning. That whole time is foggy in my brain. Between the coma, coming to terms with what was happening, and the meds, my memory is thick, chunky soup.
“I read that in your texts a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t really put that together. I—”
She must take my pause as permission. “I don’t mind the heat, but the flight did a number on my leg. Do you mind if we go inside so I can elevate it?”
Is she asking me or Emberleigh?
“Come on.” Emberleigh shuts the passenger door after grabbing Livy’s purse. “It’s this way. Let’s get you set up.”
Emberleigh breaks around me, going right. Livy moves to my left, reaching tentatively to touch my wrist as she pauses on her crutches to take in my face. Together, they leave me facing an empty pickup and wondering what the hell is happening here.
I twist, seeing Braxton following them in. Kyle trots right behind them.
I had surprise and anger on my side on my way down the porch stairs.
I was acting on instinct when I saw Livy with a swollen, black eye and a bum leg.
But, now, I’m at the bottom of a set of steps I haven’t climbed since the day I came home more than a month ago.
At that time, I had a walker as well as Pop and Exton on either side of me. Now I have none of that.
I need sheer will and all the concentration I can muster. Thank goodness I can’t see Pix’s ass in those pants. I would be here until the cows come home.
And we don’t have cows.
Kyle pokes his head around the jamb. He noses out of the door and comes to the top of the stairs, tail creating a current in the air behind him.
“Hey, good boy. Have you been protecting your mama?”
He takes the stairs cautiously and comes to my side.
He puts his front paws up one step and waits until I do the same with my good leg.
When I pull my weaker left leg up to that step, he brings his back ones there and reaches with his front ones again to the next step.
I take another, and he repeats the motion.
We’ve made it all five steps when his tail hits my knee from behind, the force of it nearly taking me down.
“Whoa, boy.” I rub his large head and move behind his ears but resist moving my hand down his body. “Seems we’re all a little bit broken around here, huh?”
He trots off, his large paws thumping on the wood floors.
I’m on the porch of my childhood home, looking in. An apt metaphor, no doubt.
Inside is the most interesting woman I’ve ever known talking with Emberleigh and Brax like they’re old friends.
“We have a place for you in town, but we thought we’d offer you a room here.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“You aren’t imposing,” Emberleigh continues. “With your injury, we figured this would be easier. It’s just until you feel well enough to drive without risking further injury.”
Braxton cuts in. “If you hate the idea and need more solitude, one of us can pick you up as you need and take you home too.” He looks at her leg. “None of us foresaw that. We’ll do whatever you’d like.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Bright making her way from the barn with Colt in her arms. Luna, as usual, is on her heels.
My sister was obviously in on all this too.
My body is sore, but more than anything I want to check out.
I reach into my right pocket to find it empty.
When did I stop restocking every morning?
This morning, apparently. I left my room for coffee.
Coffee was an acceptable risk yesterday morning. This morning it turned into… this.
Luna runs ahead and comes to stand at my side, her eyes focus on mine as she laps up all the pets I can offer.
Kyle perks and returns to the front door, eventually pushing his chest to the ground, butt up, tail spinning.
Luna jumps back and barks. They circle one another, sniffing and testing the air.
Faster than I could’ve imagined, Kyle and Luna are running and chasing each other, using me as the fixture around which they bait and play.
I use the jamb to brace myself, hoping neither sniffs out my weaknesses.
My sister bounds up the stairs. “That’s a gorgeous Dane that just went streaking by.”
“That’s a wounded Dane. I don’t know what or when, but I’m hoping your services aren’t needed if they play too rough.”
She claps me on the shoulder. “Are you going to introduce me?”
“Et tu, Brute?”
“My Spanish is rusty. Try again.”
I shake my head as Colt fights to slide down from her arms. “Unca Lay,” he cheers and continues babbling as he toddles inside.
Undaunted, Bright ducks under my outstretched arm before turning to me. “You’re letting all the bought air out.”
“You sound like…” I don’t finish that sentence. I know. She knows. No need in saying it aloud.
“Bright, this is Livy Morgan. Livy, this is my annoying sister, Brighton. Don’t ask her about Dolly Parton.”
“Why not Dolly?” Livy’s eyes bounce between mine and my sister’s.
“Well,” Bright begins, and Braxton’s groans echoes my own.
“Now you’ve done it,” Brax says, just as Brighton goes on. “I love Dolly. Dolly is the consummate professional. She’s done it all. Name one artist who has remained so relevant for six decades. I’ll wait. Nope, I don’t have to. No one! And I sang with her in March. Did Lay tell you?”
“He spent his time in yoga trying not to swear or fall over more than talking about his family or their amazing achievements. That’s incredible. And you’re a vet, right?”
“I am,” Brighton replies.
At the same time, Braxton scoffs, “Yoga?”
“I may ask you to take a look at Kyle’s incision, if that’s okay. I know some wound care, but it was deep, and I want to make sure he’s okay.”
“Sure. He’s gorgeous, by the way. He took off with Luna. They’ll be back. Layton’s her favorite. She won’t stay away for long.”
“He did well on the plane, but I’m glad he’s getting some energy out.”
Livy turns to Braxton who has Emberleigh tucked into his side. Colt sits at their feet, slapping Braxton’s boots.
“Yoga is genius for core strength and grounding. Layton”—her head whips to me—“was probably there more on a dare from me or because I challenged his ego.” She smiles at me, making me want to kiss her, before returning her gaze to my brother.
“It’s a different use of muscles and muscle groups.
Box jumps serve their purpose. So does child’s pose. ”
Emberleigh cuts in, “I know there’s a lot going on here, and it’s not a priority, but if you’re willing to work with me, I’d be happy to pay you as a trainer.
” She reaches out a hand level to the sofa she sits on.
“I hope I’m not insulting you. I know you’re a DPT.
I would love to learn yoga and I don’t want you to think I expect your time and expertise for free. ”
“Well, you stole my thunder,” Bright puts in. “I was going to ask the same.”
“I hear barn yoga is a thing,” Braxton quips. “Do I need to buy goats?”
“Goats,” Colt says. “Feck cue, goats.”
Livy sucks in a breath while Bright fights a snicker. Braxton turns sharp eyes on me.
I shrug as Emberleigh coos, “Colt, we don’t say that. It’s mean, and we don’t like mean, okay?”
“Okay.”
A scratch at the door behind me indicates the dogs are back. “Incoming.”
Luna pants and rounds the sofa for Bright.
Kyle rounds the other side and slides down, energy spent and rolls onto his good side before discovering Colt.
His ears perk, and he lifts his head, already taller than my nephew in his seated position.
He pulls his body on the floor, almost in an army crawl and sniffs Colt’s diaper.
It scares Colt, who jerks but smiles wide, his dimple on full display.
He lifts his hands to Kyle’s jowls. Kyle not only allows it, he soaks it all in, eventually lying with his face between his paws at Colt’s feet.
Livy’s sigh is audible.
I’m still standing, like a dolt, at the front door, watching Livy be welcomed to our home, and I’ve done nothing to make that so.
What will I do? Put her on a plane home, rejecting her offer? Rejecting her?
I could. I have no interest in this Layton fixer-upper project.
But I do have an interest in her.
And she’s here.
Now what?