by S. E. Rose
“Sorry, I think I dropped my phone in your car,” Tabby says.
The big brother in me wants to strangle her. It’s not the first time my little sister has cockblocked me. Not that I was planning on doing anything more than kissing Lanie . . . well . . . I shake my head. I need something to drink. I open Lanie’s fridge as I hear her walk out to the garage with Tabby.
I start laughing as I survey the contents of the refrigerator. Lanie’s fridge is the most ridiculously clean fridge ever. It looks like something out of an appliance advertisement, with everything in the perfect place, not too full and not too empty. She has three bottles of wine on the lowest shelf of the door. I look at them and pick the cheapest one, setting it on the counter as I look back into the refrigerator. I shake my head as I scan the neat rows of yogurt. Even her vegetable drawer has some sort of little baskets in it to keep the vegetables all separated. I close the door and survey the kitchen for the place she would keep her corkscrew.
Every drawer I open is neatly arranged. I can’t help myself. I open her pantry. It’s more organized than the damn grocery store.
“What ya looking for?” Tabby’s voice comes from the other side of the pantry door. I step back.
“Corkscrew.”
“In the pantry?”
I shrug. “Lanie’s very organized.”
Tabby bursts out laughing. “Uh, that’s the understatement of the century. Have you seen her closet?”
“No.”
“Well, I’ll let that be a little surprise for you later.”
I give her a quizzical look.
“You’ll see,” she says in a singsong voice as she walks into the dining room, opens a small wine cupboard, and retrieves the corkscrew. “Lanie likes everything in its place.”
“I see.”
“What do I like?” Lanie’s voice rings out from the front door.
“Organization.”
“Organization is the key to success!” she says as she walks in and hands Tabby her cell phone.
“You sound like a motivational poster,” Tabby laughs.
Lanie shrugs.
I point toward the bottle of wine on the counter. “Mind if I have a drink?”
“Nope.” Lanie props herself on a stool and lifts her leg onto another one.
“Well . . . sorry to bother you guys. I should get back out to the car; Kent’s waiting for me.” She pauses at the door. “Lanie?”
“Yeah.”
“Brunch tomorrow?”
“Sure. Text me when you get up.”
“Cool. See you tomorrow.”
I open the wine. Lanie motions to the cabinet to my left where I find wine glasses.
“Want some?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “I guess one glass can’t hurt.”
I pour us wine and take a seat next to her. “So, you brunch a lot with my sister?”
“Once in a while. I usually work a lot,” she says as she runs her finger around the rim of the wine glass. Her phone buzzes, and she looks down. A giant smile appears on her face. I didn’t think she could look any more beautiful, but I was wrong. The smile lights up her entire face in a way that makes her look more carefree than normal.
“What?” I prod.
She points to her phone, turning it so I can read the text.
Di: Harold and Kumar is on TV
Kylie: OMG! Running to TV
Clark: Kewl
Mom: You know I don’t approve of that film.
Dad: (eye-rolling emoji)
KJ: Awesomesauce, we just got home
Tabby: Woot! Woot!
Di: Family video chat?
Kylie: Family drinking game?
Clark: Yes!
Mom: Clark!!
Dad: Kathy, let it go!
Di: Earth to Lanie!!?
“Tabby’s on your family chat?”
Lanie laughs. “Yup.”
“And what’s with Harold and Kumar?”
“Mom hated that movie. We all decided to sneak watch it in the playroom, and we got caught. Needless to say, Kylie figured out a way to get it for us on DVD, and we pretended to go to sleep the next night and then . . .” She trails off with a smirk.
“What?”
“Mom caught us again and took the DVD.”
“So, did you end up seeing it?” I ask as I follow her into the family room. She settles herself in the corner of her sofa and turns on the TV.
“We did eventually see it, but it took three more failed attempts. Now, it’s a thing.”
I grin at her. “Here, prop your feet up on me. The elevation will help with the swelling.” I pat my legs. She eyes them suspiciously but complies. I’m not totally lying, but she doesn’t need to prop her legs. I wonder if she sees through my insanely juvenile move.
We watch the movie and laugh. She texts with her siblings on a separate sibling only chat that I learn about. I rub her feet, and she tells me I’m not allowed to leave.
“Seriously, you can sleep here. Feel free to use either guest room.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
“OK. But if Tabby finds out . . .”
Lanie laughs. “It’s a small town. Everyone will find out. But if you can handle it, then stay.”
I feel like she’s testing me, and I don’t back down from a challenge.
“I’ll stay,” I answer as I raise an eyebrow.
She grins at me. “You’ve been warned.”
I lean over toward her. “A little gossip doesn’t scare me, Lanie.”
She leans in toward me, and I think she might kiss me, but instead, she widens her smile. “Good.”
She plops back against the side of the sofa and finishes her wine, setting it on the side table. We laugh at a funny scene. After a few minutes, I notice her breathing has slowed. I look over and find her fast asleep.
I turn off the TV and pull a blanket over her before going to find a guestroom.
I place my phone on a charging station that is conveniently set up next to the bed. Even the hall bath has new toothbrushes and fresh towels. This woman thinks of everything. I get ready for bed and notice a text from Tabby.
Tabs: So??
Me: So?
Tabs: Seriously? What’s up with you and Lanie?
Me: None of your beeswax
Tabs: Oh, it’s all my beeswax
Me: Goodnight
Tabs: I’ll find out everything tomorrow. Goodnight.
I sigh and pull back the sheets, which smell of lavender. I’m asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Chapter Nine
Lanie
I wake up and groggily take in my surroundings. Family room. Oh yeah, we watched a movie. Did he stay? I glance around but see no sign of Brix. Maybe he left early so no one would see his car in my driveway.
I get up to go make coffee, but as I stand, I get a whiff of cappuccino. I slowly make my way to the kitchen and peer around the corner.
Brixton stands there in nothing but boxer briefs and a tight-fitted t-shirt. And holy hotness Batman! Through the thin material of the t-shirt, his backside looks like he was carved from stone. There is no way that is for real. I rub my eyes, but he’s still there.
I hear the espresso maker; he must have spotted it in my pantry. I used to make cappuccino all the time but not as much lately. I have no time for it.
I lean on the door jam and watch him as he pours the frothed milk into a cup. Then, like a movie in slow motion, he turns around.
His t-shirt clings to his upper body, and it is sexy as fuck. I bite my lip and hope I don’t look too much like a wreck.
“Good morning,” I say to him. “I see you found my espresso maker.”
“I did. I made you one, too. I sort of figured that if a lady has an espresso maker, she probably likes cappuccino.”
I grin. “Well deduced.”
“I’ve been known to, on occasion, solve a mystery in my spare time.”
“Oh?” I ask as I step forward to take hol
d of the mug he’s slid toward me.
“I have a ninety-five percent success rate of finding missing socks.”
I giggle. “Wow, impressive.”
He shrugs. “What can I say? Should I add that to my Tinder account?”
The mere thought of him on Tinder, searching for other women, makes my blood boil. I try to quash the irrational feelings.
I take a sip of the drink and moan. “This is great. Your barista skills are on par.”
“Well, thank you. Mind if I use your shower? I have a change of clothes in my car. I’d love to join you and Tabby for brunch. I haven’t seen her much lately.”
“You keep clothes in your car?”
He nods. “This is going to sound weird, but I learned early on, while working in other countries, that you never know when your medical knowledge might be needed. After having to wear bloodied clothes all day on more than one occasion, I vowed to always keep something to change into in my backpack or my car. It’s served me well on a few occasions.”
“Wow . . . that’s . . . uh . . . wow,” I manage, trying not to cringe.
Brix shrugs. “I know. It’s a little intense, right?”
I give him a lopsided smile. “It’s just not the answer I expected, that’s all. I’m sure you’ve found the guest bath, so help yourself.”
“Thanks,” he says with a grin as he heads back upstairs.
I finish my drink before I go and shower, taking a moment to compose myself. I’m curious to see Brix and Tabby alone. I’ve only ever seen them together with other members of my family. KJ has a press event this morning, so I know he won’t be joining us.
A few minutes later, we walk down to the café on Main Street. It’s a new sandwich shop that the pub owners’ daughter just opened. Becky is KJ’s age. So I know her fairly well from school.
“Hey,” she says as we walk inside. I spot Tabby sitting at a table in the back of the bistro.
“Hi, Becky.” I look at the menu which always changes and is written on a giant chalkboard behind the register.
“Breakfast sandwich of the day, please,” I announce. “And a sweet tea.”
Brix stares at the menu. “Same.”
“Alright. Have a seat, and I’ll bring it out when it’s done.”
“Thanks.” We walk over to Tabby, who’s situated herself at a cozy corner table.
A few of the townies wave at us as we walk by, and I wave back. I see Brix watching me interact with everyone. I can tell he feels a little like a fish out of water. Small town living takes some getting used to, and I only know this having lived elsewhere for college. I had to readjust to everyone knowing everything about me when I came home.
“This town is unreal,” Brix says as he looks out at Main Street.
“No kidding,” Tabby agrees. “How are you kids this morning?” She gives me a look, and I roll my eyes and slightly shake my head. She raises an eyebrow and looks at her brother as she props her head on her hands, her elbows resting on the table.
“Don’t even go there. I just crashed at her house after the movie last night,” Brix says with a groan.
“Hey, I didn’t say a word,” Tabby replies coyly.
Brix glares at his little sister, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“Whatever. So, how’s the hospital?” Tabby asks, changing the conversation’s direction since neither of us is giving anything away.
“Good. Busy.”
“Really? Good. Busy. That’s it?” she asks.
“Yep. You visit grandma and grandpa lately?”
She shrugs. “Not lately. I should. It’s been a few weeks.”
Becky walks over with our meals.
“How’s business?” I ask her.
She leans against a nearby chair. “Not bad. I’m hoping things will pick up when we get open mic night going next week.”
“Open mic night, huh?”
She nods. “It should be fun. Kevin, the kid who works at the ice cream shop, is going to be our first musician.”
“Sounds like fun. I’ll have to stop by.”
“Yeah, I’ll let KJ know,” Tabby adds.
“You should. Tell your family,” she says as she heads back to the counter to wait on a new customer.
“It’s unreal here,” Brix murmurs as he takes a sip of his tea. Tabby nods, and we spend the next hour discussing the town.
Brixton
My walking tour of Banneker takes the rest of the morning. Although I’ve been spending more time up here, I still haven’t seen much of the town except for Main Street. Lanie tells us funny stories about her family and the patrons of various shops we walk by as we meander down the street. The town is rich with history, ghost stories, family lore, and even a few Native American tales.
“I have rounds to make at the hospital today,” I announce as we stand on the bridge overlooking the river.
“I should get back to the house. I need to go through some photos for a client,” Tabby adds. “I’ll see you both later.” She gives us hugs and heads off toward her car.
I hold my arm out for Lanie. She takes it, and we walk back up Main Street. She says hi to at least twenty people as we walk.
“Do you know everyone here?” I ask.
“It’s a small town, and yes, probably most of the people here.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Well, it’s entertaining.”
“Welcome to Banneker. Where community is celebrated.”
I look at the town sign on Main Street in front of the courthouse. “That’s literally your town slogan?”
She giggles. “Yep.”
“Wow.”
Her giggles intensify as we continue walking, turning down her street as she says hi to yet another local.
“So, have you ever wanted to live anywhere else?”
“Nope. That’d be Kylie. She always wanted to travel and live in other places. She went the farthest away for college.”
“Where did she go?”
“Kent State in Ohio. She studied fashion and business.”
“That’s not that far,” I point out.
“True, but for our family it is. My parents lived in Hawaii for a year for my dad’s work. But that was before we were born. Some of my cousins live out of state, but everyone seems to meander home regularly.”
“I guess I shouldn’t judge. I’m the only one in my family that’s lived abroad.”
She bumps my side with her hip. “That’s right, Judgy-McJudgerkins. Not all of us are so worldly.”
I laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Plus, we have traveled; we just haven’t lived anywhere else.”
“True. Would you ever want to live abroad?”
She pauses and tilts her head in consideration. “I don’t know. I . . . think I’m too much of a control freak. I like vacationing, but I think I prefer to come back here when it’s all said and done.”
I look around the tree-lined street of homes. They are all older houses from the late 1800s and early 1900s. They are beautifully restored. I can see the appeal, with the big yards and the shops a few blocks away.
“How did you decide on this house?” I ask her as we approach her front walk.
She shrugs. “I always loved those HGTV shows where they were redoing houses. I didn’t want an apartment, and I didn’t want to build a house, so I looked for a long time. When this one came on the market, I just knew. It’s a little too big for just me, but I fell in love with it and the rest is history.”
I look up at the house. It’s a nice-looking house, with its white siding, dark green shutters, dark blue front door, and beautiful landscaping. Even without flowers blooming yet, the shrubbery is perfectly trimmed, and the front porch looks inviting. The garage sits to the side with a walkway to the house. I can tell she’s invested a huge amount of time into restoring it. Even the trim detail is visible along the roofline. I notice for the first time that the trim is painted a gray color.
“How long has this t
aken you?”
“A few years and a lot of help from my family. My parents have been great, though. They came every weekend for months on end.”
“You’re lucky to have found your forever home.”
I see her eyes flash with sadness, and I wonder why, but I don’t ask.
“Thanks again. This was . . . fun,” she says to me.
“Sure. I’ll see you this week at the hospital,” I say as I watch her walk up her front path to her porch.
I wait until she’s safely inside and then I get in my car and head back to my little studio apartment. It seems less homey than it used to, and I crave the feeling of warmth that I felt at Lanie’s house.
Chapter Ten
Lanie
The days tick by as I spend each one with Ash. I don’t know why I keep coming back to the hospital each day. I could be at the beach. I could buy plane tickets and go to Vegas. OK, I’m not the Vegas type, but I could do something. I could go to visit my college roommate in New Orleans.
Instead, I keep coming back to the one place I never wanted to come back to because I . . . I don’t know why. But I find myself here again for the third day in a row.
Ash is sitting in bed doing a puzzle when I arrive.
“Hey,” I say cheerfully as I drop my coat and purse on the chair that is normally occupied by Mrs. Collier.
Ash must notice me glancing at it.
“She had a doctor’s appointment with Miles. He’s this kid at her house. He’s older than me.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. She said she’d be here by eleven. That’s when my next treatment is.”
“I see. Well, we have some time. You want to play a game?”
I pull out the bag I brought. I’ve been saving the games I took from Kent’s house. I wanted it to be a treat for Ash.
“Pick a game.” I lay out three of my favorites on his bed.
He examines them each carefully.
“This one,” he decides as he points to Candyland.
“I see you’ve chosen a classic.”
“I like that one.” He looks around. “Don’t tell anyone, OK? It’s sort of a baby game.”
I grin and lean forward. “Our secret.”
He grins at me as I set up the game.
“Which color?” I ask.