He did not return my greeting.
I finished getting close, which was to say stopping four feet from him, doing this a little surprised that the large rectangular fire pit that would eventually be the focal point in the middle of the deck was already constructed to three feet up, rising from the moist earth.
He worked fast.
And it looked good.
I turned my gaze to him.
“I brought you coffee,” I shared unnecessarily.
He didn’t even glance at my hands.
He also didn’t say anything.
“Okay, dude,” I started quietly. “Just to say, I’m not a morning person.”
“Got that,” he grunted.
“Doesn’t give me a right to be a shrew,” I went on. “I’m sorry about that.”
He shifted but only to cross his arms on his chest.
This brought my attention to his chest which was not a healthy place for it to be if I didn’t want to blurt out I’d met him years ago, that meeting meant something to me, doing this just moments before I jumped his bones (something I didn’t want to do, because I did but he didn’t), so I looked to his face and that wasn’t much better.
I persevered.
“I’ll set an alarm from now on.”
“Don’t tax yourself.”
Now, wait.
I’d apologized. I’d brought coffee. I’d been a bitch but I’d explained and now I was being cool.
He needed to meet me halfway.
So I didn’t give up.
“Or I can give you a key and you can just,” I swung out the mug, “get on with things.”
“Whatever way you want it. You’re the boss,” he returned.
Deke was stubborn.
Damn.
I kept trying.
“I’d like you to be comfortable here.”
“Comfortable enough when I’m workin’,” he replied.
Which meant he’d be good if I just left him alone.
He wanted it that way, fine. I’d been uncool, apologized for that, he wasn’t going to let it go, that wasn’t my problem.
He was there to work. He was not there to become my best friend.
“Right,” I murmured, turned, saw the stack of wood tarped and bound with thick wires that was sitting up against the side of the house, and I moved there. I put the mug on top, the milk, the sugar, and turned back to him. “There’s a spoon in the sugar, you need it. I’ll come out and get the stuff later. I won’t bother you when I do.”
“Obliged,” he muttered and turned back to his stone.
I didn’t linger.
I got out of there.
An hour later, I went back and the pit was up five feet.
It was going to be awesome.
I grabbed the milk, the sugar and the (I was weirdly pleased to see) empty mug and took it back to the house.
*
I listened to my brother’s ugly voicemail message again and waited for the beep.
Then I sat at the edge of the seat of my Adirondack chair, leaned over, staring at the toes of my wellies, and left my message.
“You’ll be glad to know, but I hope you know how sad I am to say it, that this is the last message you’ll get from me. I really want you to do the right thing, Mav. I’m still holding out hope you’ll figure out what that is and do it. And I hope that you’ve got it in you to realize that if Dad was still here, how this would cut him. Straight down to the bone, baby brother. He’d die another death, a more painful one this time, knowing his boy was acting this way to the two women in his life that he loved the most. Please, please, please, Maverick, the only person you’re hurting is you. I hate that for you. Dad would have hated it for you. So don’t do it.”
I hit the button to disconnect but I didn’t wait that first beat as my thumb moved on the screen to find Bianca’s number.
Get all the shit out of the way and move on.
Dad hadn’t taught me that, Mr. T had (though, he didn’t use the word “shit” since he never cursed).
I hit go and there was no ringing.
Bianca’s phone was obviously off. It went right to voicemail.
So I went right to leaving the message.
“Right, so I was freaked, I couldn’t get hold of you. Then I got more freaked. Then worried. Now, I’m panicked, Anca. Lace is coming out in a few weeks and I’d love for you to come out too so we can be together and you can fill us in on what’s going down with you. Thick and thin. Three Musketeers. You know that, baby, always.” I even heard the edge of alarm in my voice when I finished, “Let me in, Anc. You know you can give anything to me. Anything. I’m here. Always here for you, my beautiful sister. Know it. Anything and always.”
I hit the disconnect and a second later heard the gruff noise of a throat clearing.
My head shot up and I looked to my right to see Deke standing at the side of the deck, at the top of the steps that led down from there, one hand to the railing, eyes to me.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Thought you heard me comin’.”
I gave a short shake of my head and replied, “Not a problem. Everything okay?”