She’s going to be talking to you, too. And Phillip. Already talked to Seth—which is what I was trying to diplomatically ask him about when he started foaming at the mouth again.”
Cam frowned now, thinking more of Anna Spinelli of the great legs and tidy briefcase than of Seth. “If we don’t pass, she’s going to work on pulling him.”
“He isn’t going anywhere.”
“That’s what I said.” He dragged his hand through his hair again, which for some reason reminded him he’d meant to get a haircut. In Rome. Seth wasn’t the only one not going anywhere. “But, bro, we’re about to make some serious adjustments around here.”
“Things are fine as they are.” Ethan filled a glass with ice and poured tea over it so that it crackled.
“Easy for you to say.” Cam stepped out on the porch, let the screen door slap shut behind him. He walked to the rail, watched Ethan’s sleek Chesapeake Bay retriever, Simon, play tag and tumble with the fat puppy. Upstairs, Seth had obviously decided to seek revenge by turning his radio up to earsplitting. Screaming headbanger rock blasted through the windows.
Cam’s jaw twitched. He’d be damned if he’d tell the kid to turn it down. Too clichéd, too terrifyingly adult a response. He sipped his beer, struggled to loosen the knots in his shoulders, and concentrated on the way the lowering sun tossed white diamonds onto the water.
The wind was coming up so that the marsh grass waved like a field of Kansas wheat. The drake of a pair of ducks that had set up house where the water bent at the edge of the trees flew by quacking.
Lucy, I’m home , was all Cam could think, and it nearly made him smile again.
Under the roar of music he heard the gentle rhythmic creak of the rocker. Beer fountained from the lip of the bottle when he whirled. Ethan stopped rocking and stared at him.
“What?” he demanded. “Christ, Cam, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Nothing.” Cam swiped a hand over his face, then carefully lowered himself to the porch so he could lean back against the post. “Nothing,” he repeated, but set the beer aside. “I’m a little edgy.”
“Usually are if you stay in one place more than a week.”
“Don’t climb up my back, Ethan.”
“Just a comment.” And because Cam looked exhausted and pale, Ethan reached in the breast pocket of his shirt, took out two cigars. It wouldn’t hurt to change his smoke-after-dinner routine. “Cigar?”
Cam sighed. “Yeah, why not?” Rather than move, he let Ethan light the first and pass it to him. Leaning back again, he blew a few lazy smoke rings. When the music shut off abruptly, he felt he’d achieved a small personal victory.
For the next ten minutes, there wasn’t a sound but the lap of water, the call of birds, and the talk of the breeze. The sun dropped lower, turning the western sky into a soft, rosy haze that bled into the water and blurred the horizon. Shadows deepened.
It was like Ethan, Cam mused, to ask no questions. To sit in silence and wait. To understand the need for quiet. He’d nearly forgotten that admirable trait of his brother’s. And maybe, Cam admitted, he’d nearly forgotten how much he loved the brother Ray and Stella had given him.
But even remembering, he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
“See you fixed the steps,” Ethan commented when he judged Cam was relaxing again.
“Yeah. The place could use a coat of paint, too.”
“We’ll have to get to that.”
They were going to have to get to a lot of things, Cam thought. But the quiet creak of the rocker kept taking his mind back to that afternoon. “Have you ever had a dream while you were wide awake?” He could ask because it was Ethan, and Ethan would think and consider.
After setting the nearly empty glass on the porch beside the rocker, Ethan studied his cigar. “Well . . . I guess I have. The mind likes to wander when you let it.”
It could have been that, Cam told himself. His mind had
Cam frowned now, thinking more of Anna Spinelli of the great legs and tidy briefcase than of Seth. “If we don’t pass, she’s going to work on pulling him.”
“He isn’t going anywhere.”
“That’s what I said.” He dragged his hand through his hair again, which for some reason reminded him he’d meant to get a haircut. In Rome. Seth wasn’t the only one not going anywhere. “But, bro, we’re about to make some serious adjustments around here.”
“Things are fine as they are.” Ethan filled a glass with ice and poured tea over it so that it crackled.
“Easy for you to say.” Cam stepped out on the porch, let the screen door slap shut behind him. He walked to the rail, watched Ethan’s sleek Chesapeake Bay retriever, Simon, play tag and tumble with the fat puppy. Upstairs, Seth had obviously decided to seek revenge by turning his radio up to earsplitting. Screaming headbanger rock blasted through the windows.
Cam’s jaw twitched. He’d be damned if he’d tell the kid to turn it down. Too clichéd, too terrifyingly adult a response. He sipped his beer, struggled to loosen the knots in his shoulders, and concentrated on the way the lowering sun tossed white diamonds onto the water.
The wind was coming up so that the marsh grass waved like a field of Kansas wheat. The drake of a pair of ducks that had set up house where the water bent at the edge of the trees flew by quacking.
Lucy, I’m home , was all Cam could think, and it nearly made him smile again.
Under the roar of music he heard the gentle rhythmic creak of the rocker. Beer fountained from the lip of the bottle when he whirled. Ethan stopped rocking and stared at him.
“What?” he demanded. “Christ, Cam, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Nothing.” Cam swiped a hand over his face, then carefully lowered himself to the porch so he could lean back against the post. “Nothing,” he repeated, but set the beer aside. “I’m a little edgy.”
“Usually are if you stay in one place more than a week.”
“Don’t climb up my back, Ethan.”
“Just a comment.” And because Cam looked exhausted and pale, Ethan reached in the breast pocket of his shirt, took out two cigars. It wouldn’t hurt to change his smoke-after-dinner routine. “Cigar?”
Cam sighed. “Yeah, why not?” Rather than move, he let Ethan light the first and pass it to him. Leaning back again, he blew a few lazy smoke rings. When the music shut off abruptly, he felt he’d achieved a small personal victory.
For the next ten minutes, there wasn’t a sound but the lap of water, the call of birds, and the talk of the breeze. The sun dropped lower, turning the western sky into a soft, rosy haze that bled into the water and blurred the horizon. Shadows deepened.
It was like Ethan, Cam mused, to ask no questions. To sit in silence and wait. To understand the need for quiet. He’d nearly forgotten that admirable trait of his brother’s. And maybe, Cam admitted, he’d nearly forgotten how much he loved the brother Ray and Stella had given him.
But even remembering, he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
“See you fixed the steps,” Ethan commented when he judged Cam was relaxing again.
“Yeah. The place could use a coat of paint, too.”
“We’ll have to get to that.”
They were going to have to get to a lot of things, Cam thought. But the quiet creak of the rocker kept taking his mind back to that afternoon. “Have you ever had a dream while you were wide awake?” He could ask because it was Ethan, and Ethan would think and consider.
After setting the nearly empty glass on the porch beside the rocker, Ethan studied his cigar. “Well . . . I guess I have. The mind likes to wander when you let it.”
It could have been that, Cam told himself. His mind had
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