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Wyatt’s chest heaves as he shakes his head sadly and stares at his hands. “You’re playing defense for something that isn’t even a game.” He swallows and turns to look at me. “This is real life.”
I look up at him and imprint the feel of his warm arms around me and his soft blue eyes upon me because I know I’ll never have him this close again. I can’t. I’m not strong enough to push him away again.
My voice is soft and resigned when I reply, “Life is a game.”
WeeksPregnant:23
AnimalsontheMountain:10
Silence.
I used to like it.
I used to crave it.
I needed it to survive.
I needed it to sort through the voices of worry in my head about the what-ifs. What if I can’t survive on the mountain on my own? What if sustainable living doesn’t fucking matter because the world is fucked anyway? What if I fight with Calder and Luke again? What if I can’t keep my dad’s business afloat? What if my mom dies suddenly too? What if Everly moves overseas for good? What if living on my own for the rest of my life isn’t the best idea?
What if…what if…what if…
That’s why a plan is a beautiful thing. My dad always said if a man has a plan, he can be content in his life. And he was right because being content quiets my mind. And damn, do I love the sound of nothing. I’d do just about anything for it…
Like hire a woman I felt an immediate connection with to have a baby for me because no matter what I’ve done with my life, I’ve never been able to quiet the voice of wanting to be a father. Try as I might.
“No one told me we were drinking,” Calder booms from behindme, and I swerve around to spot him and Luke walking toward where I’m seated on our father’s memorial bench.
I grumble my wordless reply, keeping my gaze fixed on the mountain sunset before me. September is approaching, and the leaves are threatening to change. Autumn is normally my favorite season up here, but right now…I’m not looking forward to it.
I hold up my six-pack with four beers left, and they each take one.
“A drink for Dad,” Calder says, leaning on a large oak tree as he pours some beer onto the ground.
Luke sits down beside me and takes a drink of his beer. The pensive look on his face as he stares down the mountain can’t be ignored.
I elbow him gently. “You okay after yesterday?”
His head jerks back defensively. “Yeah, why?”
I say nothing, just silently stare back at him because he knows why I’m asking. He was the one who found Dad collapsed on a jobsite. He was the one who issued CPR while dialing 911. He was the one who decided it would be faster to carry our six-foot-three, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound father to his truck and drive him to the hospital rather than wait for an ambulance.
Luke made a lot of decisions that day that I know haunt him. And him being the one with Trista yesterday when she collapsed couldn’t have been easy. I’m not sure he’s stepped foot in a hospital since then.
“He’s fine,” Calder jeers, taking a long drink of his beer and staring out at the mountains.
My lips thin. Calder tends to avoid hard topics. We all do, but him more than anyone. He’d barely even acknowledged our dad’s death, and then suddenly, this memorial bench appeared out of nowhere, showing signs that he does, in fact, have a heart. We didn’t even know he was working on it. He made one for our mother, too, that sits in their backyard, overlooking the garden our dad fussed over for years and has now turned to weeds. I should really help her with that.
“Are you okay after yesterday?” Luke asks, propping his arm on the back of the bench and rubbing his finger over the engraved saying.
I shrug. “Baby is okay, so I guess I’m okay.”
“What about you and Trista?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling both my brothers’ eyes boring into me expectantly.
“We know you two are hooking up,” Calder says with a laugh. “You gave yourself away on poker night, bro, staring murderously at any of us who dared lay eyes on her. God, you’re about as subtle as that stupid horse’s tongue.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I offer noncommittally, refusing to break my promise to Trista. She didn’t want me to tell anyone, and I won’t, even if things between us are over.
