Page 14 of Where I Should’ve Been

Josie’s smile is soft. She knows about Dad’s death. She knows about the will and the gallery betrayal. She knows all there is to know up until about twenty-four hours ago. In a weird way, Josie Harris is one of my closest friends, even though we don’t live in the same city. When all of the drama and heartbreak was going down between her and Clay, I was her shoulder to cry on.

And now, even though it’s been mostly via phone, she’s been mine.

“Breeze, did you miss all the shit snow on your way into town this morning?” Clay asks, and I shake my head.

“Unfortunately, no. I was stuck driving in it last night.”

“You were driving last night in that blizzard?” Bennett asks, overhearing the conversation from the kitchen. He peeks around the oak doorjamb with a furrowed brow.

I sigh. “Yes, brother, I was. And yes, I know that was dumb and that, in the future, I should listen when you tell me not to do something.”

He smiles, waggling his eyebrows. “So long as we’re on the same page. Where did you end up staying?” he asks, undoubtedly assuming I ended up staying in a hotel off the highway when the conditions got too bad to continue.

Clearly, I’m a grown woman, fully capable of making my own decisions, but telling my brother I spent the night under the-sheep-farmer-next-door’s roof feels like signing up for an inquisition I do not have the energy for.

He’ll either laugh his head off and tease me relentlessly, or he’ll try to give me a lecture about safety. Neither one is on my short list of experiences I’d like to have.

“Just somewhere easy,” I say with a shrug, my words as lighthearted as my name. “No big deal.”

I don’t know if Bennett would have pushed the issue—his hands are a little busy scooping peanut butter and apple slices off the floor—but a knock at the front door saves me either way.

Bennett wipes his hands on a paper towel while Norah wrangles the toddler with another precarious plate. “I’ll get it, baby,” he offers, confirming all the things I know about my brother in his role as a spouse. With Norah, his hard turns soft, and his heart lives on his sleeve.

He heads from the kitchen to the foyer and opens the door, and from my vantage point on the couch, I get a perfectly clear view of the person on the other side as soon as he does.

It’s none other than Randy Hanson, the keys to my stranded car hanging on his finger. Whoops.

“Hey, Bennett,” Randy greets as he dusts snow off his boots on the front mat and holds up my car keys in the air. “Just bringing Breezy’s Rover over. She’s out front.”

Instantly, Bennett’s gaze whips from Randy to me, his brow arched, his mouth quirking in that way that says, Well, isn’t this something…

I’m a little upset with the universe for choosing right now, with a literal audience, of all times to bring Randy to Bennett’s door, but I am thankful for the fact that my car is here and, evidenced by Randy’s arrival with it, roadworthy.

“So…” Ben pauses, looking between me and Randy. “You didn’t drive here this morning?”

“She ended up—” Randy starts to chime in, but I’m very quick to cut him off, jumping up from the couch in a flash and snatching my keys from his outstretched hand.

“It’s no big deal, Ben. I had a little car trouble last night, but all’s well that ends well.” I turn directly to Randy, poising my palms together in prayer hands, my keys smashed in the middle. “Thank you, Randy. Again. Can’t say how much I appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t a problem at all, Breezy,” Randy says, and I’m grateful when he just tips his ball cap toward me and boot-scoots back down the steps and across the driveaway, headed in the direction of Tad’s on foot. Thankfully, Randy is the broody, quiet Hanson brother and not talkative Tad, who I have a feeling would have spilled each and every single bean.

As I step inside and shut the front door, I don’t miss the way Bennett’s eyes narrow at me, and I don’t give the questions that will inevitably follow time to sprout either.

“I’m going to go lie down for a bit,” I say as I head toward the guest bedroom I always stay in when I’m at my brother’s house, exhaustion and the need for excuses commingling perfectly. “Got a headache.”

“A headache, huh?” Bennett says, and I can hear his footsteps following behind me. “You think it’s from partying with Randy Hanson last night?”

“Shut up, Bennett.” I flip him the middle finger over my shoulder.

“What? It’s an honest question. I mean, he just dropped off your car, Breezy.”

“Because he’s a nice man. Unlike you!” I snap, still walking.

“I’m nice!” Bennett refutes on a laugh. “I’m very nice. Doesn’t mean I show up to random women’s houses with their car keys in tow.”

“It’d better not mean that,” I hear Norah chastise as I close the door behind me, their voices only muffling slightly. “Leave her alone, Ben. Or else.”

“Or else what, Norah?”