At Peace

“Just leave it, Vi.”


I looked into my brother’s hard face for a few seconds then I turned away, swallowing and thinking maybe it wasn’t good we were so close. Maybe it wasn’t good I loved him like crazy and he felt the same way. Maybe it wasn’t good Melissa thought the world of me and my girls.

I pulled in a breath, let it out and took another sip of wine.

Then I let it go. I had no choice and I knew it. Sam was stubborn, always had been, so I whispered, “Tell Mel to come down with you next time, yeah?”

“Will do,” Sam whispered back then changed the subject again. “Who’s the big guy next door?”

My eyes moved to my brother. “What?”

“Big guy next door with the blonde chick? She your neighbor, is he or both?”

“He is. Joe Callahan.”

“Good neighbor to have,” Sam remarked.

I felt my eyebrows inch together. “Why?”

“Looks like he could crush a rock with his fist.”

“Why does that make him a good neighbor?”

“Also looks like someone you do not want to mess with.”

Sam wasn’t wrong about that.

“Again, why does that make him a good neighbor?” I asked.

“People don’t let shit happen in their ‘hoods that shouldn’t happen. He’s your neighbor, that asshole thinks to mess with you down here; I figure this Joe guy’d wade in.”

The thought of Joe Callahan getting involved in my troubles sent a chill up my spine. “Let’s just hope that asshole doesn’t think to mess with me down here.”

“He does, you should have a word with this Joe.”

That was not going to happen.

“Sam –”

“Maybe I’ll have a word, explain things, ask him to keep an eye out.”

I leaned forward again and snapped, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t, okay? Seriously.”

My brother watched me then asked, “You got a problem with this guy?”

“No,” I lied quickly. “He’s just not around very often and I came down here to escape that whole mess. I don’t want everyone in my business.”

“Vi –”

“I don’t, Sam. If something happens then I’ll talk to Colt. He’s a cop, lives across the street. He’s a good guy, a good cop. It’ll be fine.”

“The dude who had that serial killer after him?”

“Yeah.”

Sam shook his head. “Christ, he’ll just love it if that asshole bleeds into his town after that mess went down.”

Sam wasn’t wrong about that either.

“Can we just enjoy your visit and not talk about this shit?” I suggested.

“We can after you answer one question.”

I sighed again then asked, “What?”

“You need money?”

Sometimes it was irritating how well my brother knew me.

I did need money. Things were tight, not to the point where food wasn’t on the table but to the point where it was a constant, nagging worry at the back of my head because I could give my girls what they needed but not a whole helluva lot of what they wanted and that sucked.

“I’m good.”

“Yeah?”

My voice got soft when I lied, “Yeah, Sam. I’m good.”

“Okay, then you use that two grand I set on your nightstand to make yourself a pretty garden.”

I felt my eyes get wide and my mouth drop open but I didn’t speak.

“And you can’t refuse it,” Sam continued. “It’s from Mel and me and Mel’ll go ballistic, I come back with that money.”

“Sam, I can’t take that.”

“You don’t, I’m up shit’s creek with Mel.”

“Sam –”

He leaned forward again. “How many times you and Tim bail me out, hunh? How many?”

“But –”

“More than two grand’s worth, a fuckuva lot more.”

“I can’t –”

“Payback, babe.”

“Sam –”

His hand came out, hooked me around the neck and pulled me across the space between the kitty corner chairs so my face was in his face.

“Payback,” he whispered.

I pressed my lips together to fight the sting of tears in my eyes. Before Melissa, Sam had been a wild one, always doing stupid shit, always coming to Tim and me to bail him out and we always did. Even though it had been years and we never expected anything in return, Sam would feel that weight pressing on him. It would live with him, right under his skin. He needed to do this, I knew it, so he could work that weight out from under his skin and I needed to let him.

I pulled in breath through my nose, nodded and I watched my brother smile.

*

The next morning, Joe’s truck was still in his drive but his house was quiet.

The morning after that, the morning Sam left, Joe’s truck was gone.

*

“Shit, Vi, sorry, I got a callout,” Colt said after he flipped his phone shut and shoved it in his back jeans pocket. He was seated at the barstool next to me at J&J’s Saloon.

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