Eric, Jody Kaye [well read books TXT] 📗
- Author: Jody Kaye
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Book online «Eric, Jody Kaye [well read books TXT] 📗». Author Jody Kaye
I rub the imaginary dust away. My mind wanders to Eric, Ginny, and their new baby on the way. I should have beaten Ginny’s stepfather for the things he’d said about my twin. I should have taken the lead when Adam forgave Drew for messing with Brier. Although, if I’d defended her honor sooner, nothing would have happened with Newhouse. B’s been a wreck the past twenty-four hours, making my imminent departure this afternoon a tough pill to swallow. Hell, what kind of trouble will find its way to Daveigh considering the problems the other two have?
My brothers and sisters need me and I’m leaving them behind.
The lamb’s ears perk and his head lifts from the warm spot where it’s been resting. A little boy enters the paddock alone. He stalls seeing me and looks the way he came. A set of boots behind him and a voice encourages the child to keep going.
The happy lamb greets the new company in its enclosure. I stay put, watching the two interact before the animal trots halfway back. The sheep pauses long enough to make it seem like it wants to make introductions. Then it snuggles back into my leg in the shade.
Daddy’s new hire, Cris, appears at the fence. “Tell him your name.” He expects his son to ignore my ragged hair and intimidating appearance and follow along.
“Me llamo Mateo.” He kneels down to pet the lamb. It eats up the attention.
“Colton.” I kick my chin up. “Esta es mi cordero. This is my lamb.” I stroke its soft coat, speaking low to the little boy. “Mi hermana dice que te hará cargo de él por mí. My sister says you will take care of him for me.”
Daveigh had mentioned Mateo is enamored by the lamb and loves to feed it. She also mentioned he only responded in Spanish, no matter what language you spoke to him in. It seems a boy without a mother is the best to take my place rearing a lamb who has lost its lifeline as well. “Confío en ti. I’m trusting you.” I get up and dust off.
“You the youngest?” Cris asks as I approach the gate.
“Easy to figure out?” The runt of the litter fights harder to survive and oftentimes winds up the biggest. While I was never the smallest, I was born last. No thanks to D.
“I noticed a long time ago that some kids with older siblings are good with children. They have more empathy. Thank you, by the way. Mateo loves that animal.”
“Consider it his now. I won’t be back to care for it, so staking a claim that it will always be mine is…It won’t even remember me by the time I get home again.”
I open the gate, exchanging places with Cris.
“Best of luck.”
I thank him and walk past the stable, apartments, and behind the barn. Trudging across the pasture land one last time, the sense of relief that my lamb—and probably my whole family—will be okay is overcome by a sadness that they won’t need me anymore.
I stall at the pond, staring at the manor house I grew up in. The gables, the pool, the sheer wealth my grandfather amassed before I was born is surreal.
My father steps off the morning porch, striding across the lawn.
“You’ll be back,” he says when he gets to me. Stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, Ross stares into the water. “I’m proud of you.”
“Do we all get this speech?” Like the old glass bottles we’ve used for target practice, I’m ready to shatter.
“Yes, but the fact that I’m giving it to you first is a big deal.”
“Why’s that?” I grunt, figuring Daddy polishing the delivery on me gives my father a chance to work out the kinks before Adam and the girls leave.
“My youngest son is the first to leave. That’s darn impressive. Don’t get me started on the fact that you’re dedicating your life to serve our country. I think that makes you the most selfless of all my children.”
He studies my profile in the rippling water. “We saw you, Colton. We know you. You aren’t just an appendage of a larger child known as Kingsbrier. You’re my son and I love you.”
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15
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“I don’t think you should go out there.” Daveigh uses her entire body to block the door handle to the morning porch.
It’s a clear day without a cloud in the sky and the humidity hasn’t yet crept up to make the late-July morning unbearable. I put a gray towel against one hip and my palm on the other revealing a white string bikini over tanned skin. “What’s the point of having the day off if I can’t sit by the pool?”
“Do you have sunscreen? I have a whole new bottle in my room. Maybe we can go get it while I change? Ooh, want to go swim in the pond instead like we did when we were little?”
“In the mucky water? No thanks.” I attempt to hedge by my sister, but Daveigh flattens against the glass doors. “What gives, D?” I throw up my arms.
Daveigh doesn’t have a chance to respond. She’s pushed forward by Adam forcing the doors open. He and Drew, sopping wet from the pool, drag towels over their torsos.
“Sir, yes, sir!” Drew laughs at the joke Adam’s cracking about how funny C looks with his mohawk shaved off.
I’m still trying to get over Colton missing the Fourth. It’s his favorite holiday next to April Fools’. He acts as childish on those days as any kid and forgets the things he’s angry over.
“Can you imagine the first time he gets chewed out?” Adam bites a knuckle.
I miss my baby brother.
I miss the trouble the lot of us got into.
I keep telling myself I don’t miss Drew because you can’t miss anyone who didn’t mean that much to you. What we had wasn’t love. So it’s supposed to be easy to wash my hands of him and enjoy the rest of the summer. The emptiness is easy to attribute to Colton’s absence. He can’t even call and it’s killing the four of us as much as our parents not to have heard from him.
Okay, maybe not Adam. But me and D and Eric.
I try to look past Drew to the empty pool deck. The water laps at the sides from the boys cannon-balling minutes earlier. It washes up over the dry blue tile, making it glossy. His stance shifts and my eyes wander to Drew’s pec, moving down to his flat stomach, long swim trunks, and calf muscles to his bare feet on the terracotta floor. A shadow brings my line of vision back to his arms. My mouth goes dry.
“Daveigh!” Adam yells.
“Who, huh?”
“I gotta show you something.”
“What?”
Adam grits his teeth and she finally understands there’s nothing to show. He wants her to leave with him. God, I’d like to be that naive.
“Brier—” Drew starts, as if unsure he has anything else to say besides what he brought up the night of Colton’s party.
I tap my nails on the island countertop to stop from reaching toward him. I can’t think about the way we said goodbye or the number of times he brought me to the peak, reminding me of what being his meant.
“You’ve been avoiding me...Anyhow,” I babble, trying to act the way I had when we were pretending to be friends, and failing miserably. “I got my letter. You know the one sayin’ who your roommate is and when to arrive on campus. I talked to her, she seems real nice. Momma and Daddy will have a hard time dividing themselves into three. Between getting Adam to the airport on time and…”
“That’s good.” He shuts me down with a disinterested sigh, looking down the hall, wishing Adam hadn’t left him. “I report for training camp in Tallahassee at the end of the month.”
I want him to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. All the scary things in my head; moving away, living with someone new, not having the other quints to rely on. I long for the reassurances Drew whispered to me. The way he was positive I’d be a top-notch recruit applying to a department. How he made me believe, even when my faith wavered, that any sheriff would be a fool passing up sending me to the academy in four years’ time. But most of all, I want to be the one Drew calls when he scores a touchdown. When he’s homesick. When he needs someone to depend on. But I’m no good at being that kind of person.
“We could meet up before you go.”
“No, we can’t… Listen, we’ve known each other our whole lives. I love you, Brier, and I’m sure you love me too. I don’t see it ever changing. Your inability to admit it’s the problem makes this worse.” His voice cracks. “If I don’t put my foot down now, we’ll keep doing this night after night, year after year. I won’t ever get a chance to live, or, at least, try to love someone else. I’ll always be waiting for you, anticipating the next time we’ll be together. I can’t keep letting you take me for granted. I can’t see you anymore. I don’t want to. So yeah, I’ve been avoiding you.”
“You self-serving—” My jade eyes flash.
“If you were in my shoes, you’d call it self-preservation.” Wet footprints leave a trail as Drew exits the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry.” I murmur, staring at the floor and comprehending how right he is.
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16
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Gin scampers down the rectory stairs, her feet light with anticipation. I’m close on her heels, watching her hold onto her belly.
“Slow down! I don’t want you tripping.”
She’s gained weight and her equilibrium is off. But today she’s lighter than air.
“You made it!” The Sunday School Director meets us at the door to a classroom, handing Ginny a list from her clipboard with the names of six six-year-olds. Three of whom Ginny’s babysat for at one point or another. Another is the son of a teacher at our former high school who’d prompted the director to make the last-minute call. “The church service begins in ten minutes. None of this is too difficult if you recall. Coloring, reading a bible verse.”
I stop listening. We have a lot going against us and Ginny’s happy face seems heavenly.
She gushed on the way over about her excitement to help out with the littluns while their parents listened to the homily. Afterward, she’s going to the coffee hour that follows for a chance to see some of the girls she knows before they leave this fall.
“If I’d only known you were shorthanded sooner. I can be here every week, at least until…” Ginny looks down at the bump in her pink t-shirt. She has on her newest store khakis and a pair of black slip-ons. It was the best she could manage to dress up in. Everyone says God doesn’t care what anyone wears to church. And while it may be true, Ginny takes pride in her appearance.
At this point, everyone for three counties has heard the shocking news that there’s a Kingsbrier baby on the way. Being gossiped about has been difficult to endure, but Ginny’s held her head high, unwilling to subject my family to any further embarrassment by causing a scene.
The other thing I’ve noticed is Gin doesn’t complain. I have to help her off the sofa now and she hadn’t let on how much her stomach muscles hurt until I asked her why she rubbed her lower belly so much. She won’t ask me
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