Page 125 of Sheltering You

She thought she was so funny, but they probably were talking about him. Despite his productive conversations with the Lord and Jasmine on the flight that morning, he’d been grumpy all day. Even a long nap and a shower hadn’t improved his mood.

He’d had a quick, private word with Leila.

He’d hardly spoken to Bryan.

The rest of his brothers probably hadn’t noticed, but Mom never missed a thing.

At the pool table, Daniel was taking his sweet time lining up his shot.

Sam and Grant were in the middle of a game of table tennis, the rhythmic sound of the little ball hitting the paddles and table was interrupted by occasional grunts and cheers.

Sam was the best ping-pong player of the brothers, but Grant was close, and he was intense tonight.

Well, Grant was always intense.

On the other side of the room, Levi was standing on a chair, bouncing, watching the ball go back and forth as if his attention were the only thing keeping it in the air. He was rooting for his father, and whenever Sam scored, the kid reacted as if he’d hit the game-winning home run in the World Series.

Bryan stood with Daniel’s son, Jeremy, near a high table at the edge of the room. They were both waiting to take on the winners.

The only brother missing was Michael. Dad had taken the boat to the mainland to pick him up. The morning’s rain had tapered to a drizzle, and it wasn’t too windy. They shouldn’t have any trouble getting here.

“Your shot,” Daniel said.

Derrick grabbed the little cube of chalk and rubbed it against the end of his stick, studying the table. He was shooting stripes, his brother solids, and if his count was right, Daniel had only sunk one.

Whereas only four striped balls remained. “Do we need to go over the rules again? You’re supposed to sink the balls that are all one color.”

Glancing up from his phone, Jeremy laughed.

Daniel held his pool stick like the staff of Moses. Always so grown-up, or maybe it just seemed that way to Derrick, since his brother was fourteen years older and had gray hair and even a few wrinkles—well-earned, considering all he’d been through. “While some of us were hanging out in pool halls, others went to med school and raised a family.”

“Pool halls. Yeah, that was it.” Derrick had learned to play right there in that basement, him against his brothers.

He lined up his shot and sank one, setting up another.

Daniel focused on Jeremy. “Let this be a lesson to you, son. Don’t waste your life. Focus on what’s important.”

“Yeah, Uncle Derrick’s such a loser,” Jeremy deadpanned. “You’ve still just got that one jet, right?” He shook his head. “So disappointing.”

Derrick felt a smile spreading, probably his first of the night. In Daniel’s defense—not that Derrick would make it for him—they hadn’t gotten the pool table until after the oldest Wright brother had left for college.

“Ha!” Sam, obviously the victor at the other table, plopped the paddle down and high-fived his son. “That is how it’s done.”

“Yay, Daddy!” The little boy launched himself into Sam’s arms.

Grant grunted, but he couldn’t hide his grin, watching the father and son, so happy. And why not? He’d have his own kid soon enough.

Not that Derrick was jealous. Nope. He was perfectly happy. He had his business. He didn’t need a family.

He sank two more balls.

“Nice shot,” Bryan said.

Everybody seemed to wait for Derrick to respond. But he didn’t.

Sam cleared his throat. “You ready to lose, Bry?”

“Sure.”