I stared at Jim on the porch and wondered if the same would have happened to my brother if he hadn’t lost his leg.
I climbed out of the car and held back on my emotions.
When I approached the porch, Jim finished off his beer and put the bottle on the wooden railing.
“Rough day?” he asked me.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, Jim,” I said.
I started to move by him and his hand shot out and grabbed my arm. I spun and he stepped back, keeping his balance. The son of a bitch knew how to walk with his prosthetic leg when he wanted to.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Got all day to listen?”
“Seriously, Belle. That look on your face. I only ever see that look when a boy hurts you. Who?”
I felt my face get red. “Nothing, Jim.”
“Where were you?”
His eyes were narrow.
“Brunch with Maggie. She’s having issues.”
“What kind?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes I do,” he said. “Go get me a beer and we’ll talk.”
It was a rare moment to talk to my brother without fighting. He didn’t want to talk about him neglecting himself. Or his house. Or the tree out back. Or anything that remotely resembled a normal life.
Still, it was better than finding him choking on his vomit.
I got two beers and sat on the top step of the porch. Just like I used to do in a different life. I used to sit with Duke. I’d wrap my arms around his arm and put my head on his shoulder. We’d sit there until sundown. Then Dad would find random excuses to come outside and bother us. His way of trying to protect me.
I used to sit there too and smoke. After everyone went to bed, I would sit there and smoke a cigarette or two, feeling cool as anything. I killed that habit a long time ago though.
Jim put his bottle toward me. “Cheers, sis.”
I clanked my bottle to his. “Cheers.”
“Tell me about Maggie.”
“Trust me, it’s nothing interesting. She’s hung up on her ex. Every time this guy calls, she falls right back in love. Sleeps with him. Then he breaks her heart the next morning.”
“Sounds like a fucking tool.”
“Exactly,” I said. I glanced at Jim. “When was the last time you were out on a date?”
He turned his head at me. “What the fuck does that matter?”
“Just trying to have a conversation.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Is Maggie okay? She safe and all?”
“Why? You want me to talk to her for you?”
“Shit. No. I didn’t say that. How’d you get that out of a question? Dammit, Belle…”
Jim grabbed his leg and bent it. He then ran his fingers back and forth where his leg ended and the prosthetic began.
“You know, Maggie has her own cleaning business,” I said. “She’s really good.”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I could have her help out around here. For both of us.”
“Right. Both of us.” Jim took a big drink.
I opened my mouth and held back for a second. Then I asked, “What happened with you and Duke?”
“What? Where did that come from?”
“Just curious.”
“Trust me, sis, it’s none of your damn business.”
“So do you have anything to talk about?”
“Nothing.”
“Other than Maggie,” I said. “So worried about her. You should have asked her out a long time ago then.”
Jim looked at me. “Why? So I could get sent over there, get blown the fuck up, and come home to a broken woman? Why put her through that? Day in and day out, worrying about me. Wondering if and when I was going to be able to call or write. Wondering if it was me each time she watched the news and heard about another situation over there? And now… what? Have her catering to me as some fucking cripple?”
My jaw dropped.
Jim threw his beer bottle back and pounded the entire thing. He put the bottle between us and pulled himself up. I watched as he walked across the porch to the railing, putting his hands to it, staring off the side of the porch.
“Jim…”
“Let it go,” he said. “Go back to bitching at me about a dirty pan in the sink.”
Yeah, and that’s why I never brought any of that stuff up to Jim. If I did, he would spout off something about fighting a war and then compare to what I yelled at him for.
Jim went back inside and I didn’t even bother chasing him down.
To be honest, I was fucking tired. Of everything.
There had been a split second of hope that Duke would come and fix everything - like he always would and the way he promised he always would. But that wasn’t going to happen.
It was a dream gone bad.
So I sat there alone, drinking a beer that I didn’t want.
I really wanted a cigarette.
seven.
(duke)
I lined up my shot and took it. The cue ball smacked the eight ball. I sank the fucking thing right into the corner pocket I called for. Cash, Tristan, and Hudson erupted in cheers as Max threw his stick across the bar.
I put my stick down and pointed to the table.