Fighting Fire (Finding Focus Book 3)

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Fighting Fire (Finding Focus Book 3) Page 9

by Jiffy Kate


  “Sure thang, Mama A.”

  “What’s up, fucker?” I ask when my mama’s out of earshot. “You haven’t answered my phone calls in over a month. Where’ve you been?”

  “Oh, here . . . there . . . you know, around. We’ve just been on the road non-stop and half the shit holes we play at don’t have any reception.”

  I take a second to look him over, not missing the dark circles under his eyes and his long hair. He’s always worn it longer, but it’s the longest I’ve ever seen it and maybe it’s the beard he’s sporting, but I swear he looks like he’s lost twenty pounds since the last time I saw him.

  “You look like shit, dude.”

  “Awe, babe. You say the sweetest things,” Tucker croons, but I know my best friend and I can tell there’s more he’s not saying. “What the fuck is going on with you and Deke, man?”

  Of course he’d change the subject and put it back on me. He’s always been so damn good at avoiding his own shit.

  I groan out of frustration and annoyance. “So, I take it you’ve already talked to Deke?”

  “No, Cami. I just came from there. I had to go in and see Carter, make sure he still remembers who his favorite uncle is,” he says with a wink. “And witness the baby bump in person. Still can’t believe your brother knocked up my sister.”

  “You do remember they’re married, right?”

  “Yeah, he married her too.” He grabs a muffin from the plate on the counter and stuffs it in his face. “God, I’ve missed these,” he mumbles with a mouth full of pumpkin muffin.

  “Did they not feed you while you were on tour?”

  “Fuck, just truck stops and fast food, bro. I can only handle so much of that shit.”

  “Anything else?” I ask. Tucker’s lived the band life for a long time and he’s gotten mixed up in recreational drug use from time to time, most of that shit when he was younger, but something’s gotta be going on for him to look the way he does.

  He lets out a deep sigh and runs a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “We’ll save that shit for another day, man.”

  I nod, but don’t say anything. I know he’ll talk when he’s ready. And he knows I won’t let him forget about it.

  “So, you and Deke went all WWE right here in Annie’s dining room?” Tucker asks with a chuckle.

  I laugh too, but there’s little humor behind it. “Yeah.”

  “Fuck, man. Even back in the day when you both were hot-headed teenagers, you didn’t come to blows. I think I might’ve seen y’all swing once and that was when you got pissed over not makin’ the all-star football team back in junior high. You thought Deke was talkin’ shit about you in the locker room. Remember that?”

  I actually had forgotten all about it, until now. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “You were so pissed.”

  “Well, he asked for it this time.”

  “This is all over the new restaurant?” Tucker asks, his face screwing up in confusion.

  “Your guess is as good as mine, man. Deke didn’t want me goin’ into business with Alex. I think that’s what it all boils down to. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out why he can’t just let me make my own decisions for once.”

  “I think he’s just lookin’ out for you, bro. He’s always done that. Old habits are hard to break.”

  “Yeah, well, if this would’ve been his idea, it would’ve been golden. You know that. But it wasn’t, so now he’s just shittin’ all over it.”

  “But you’re goin’ through with it anyway?”

  “Yeah, signed the contract a few weeks ago. We’re already under construction, ordered tables and chairs, nailed down a menu . . . it’s a long way from being complete, but we’re definitely makin’ headway.”

  “Man,” Tucker says, blowing out a deep breath. “Can’t believe you’re steppin’ out on your own.”

  “Yeah, me either,” I confess. “It hasn’t been a walk in the park, though, let me tell you.”

  “Alex can’t be easy to work with.”

  I bark out a hard laugh. “No. She’s downright infuriating. Most of the time I want to wring her neck.”

  Tucker stops for a second and looks at me with an intense stare, like he’s trying to use x-ray vision or something. “You’re not fuckin’ her, are you?”

  “No,” I say harshly. “Not just no, but fuck no.”

  “Okay, just makin’ sure you’re not double dippin’ on my girl, Chuck.”

  “Chuck ain’t your girl,” I warn, but I know he’s just trying to get under my skin. And he knows exactly how to do it. “Dani is it for me,” I tell him, needing to say it for some reason.

  Tucker nods with a small smile. “You’re off the market for good, huh?”

  “Damn right I am.”

  “You gonna ask her to marry you?”

  “One of these days,” I tell him with confidence, feeling the familiar tug in my gut at the mention of spending forever with Sheridan Reed.

  “Where’s she at today? I was down at the art studio yesterday and Cami mentioned Dani’s been keepin’ busy with a bunch of photography gigs.”

  “Yeah, she’s been booked solid. She had another shoot for this parks and recreation pamphlet she’s been workin’ on this mornin’, and then she’s plannin’ on hangin’ out with Piper when she gets in town.”

  “Piper?” Tucker asks, his expression morphing to something between annoyance and trepidation.

  “I know y’all have this hate fest goin’, but I’m sure you can maintain for one day. Her parents are in Spain for the winter, so Dani invited her to spend Thanksgivin’ with us.”

  “Right, yeah. Well, I’ve gotta get goin’. My dad has a few things he needs help with,” he says, making his way toward the foyer.

  “What the fuck is up with you, dude?”

  “Nothin’. We’ll talk more later.”

  “You gonna be around for a while?” I ask, following him to the front door, not liking his sudden change in demeanor.

  “Yeah. Possibly. I’m not sure yet. Just got some things I need to figure out.”

  “Hey,” I say, getting his attention. “I’m here if you need anything. Even if I’m not at Grinders. Hit me up at the new place or stop by the apartment. You know where to find me.”

  “Thanks, man. See ya tomorrow.”

  Tucker hops into his old beat-up truck and drives back down the tree-lined drive. Just like Deacon, he can be a pain in my ass sometimes, but I really miss him when he’s gone for months on end. I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but I’ll find out. For now I’m just glad he’s home. From the looks of him, he’s in desperate need of some good home cooking and slower days. Living in the fast lane for too long will kill you. I feel like I’m on the verge of feeling the effects of that myself.

  After he’s long gone, I walk back into the kitchen and then out the back doors to find my mama. I need to get going, but I’ll be in deep water if I don’t say bye first.

  “Hey,” I say, tapping lightly on the greenhouse door.

  “Hey.” Mama doesn’t even look up from her work. This is her element. She comes out here when she’s happy, sad, mad . . . it’s like her sanctuary. Kinda like the restaurants have always been for Deke and me. They’re not just our job, they’re where we belong, where our hearts beat the loudest.

  My dad always told us to find something we love to do and make that our job. Deke and I did that. I’m not sure why that realization is hitting me so hard standing here in the doorway of my mama’s greenhouse, but it is and it kinda makes my chest ache.

  How did things gets so screwed up?

  “Have you talked to Deacon?” she asks, looking up from the large pot she’s pouring soil into. Her hair is not as nice and neat as it usually is. There are a few strands that have slipped out of her bun she has it twisted into. Kinda reminds me of Dani when she’s deep in her work or out on a photo shoot.

  “I haven’t,” I tell her and immediately see the disappointment on her face. I hate t
hat. I hate disappointing her. But I’m not gonna lie.

  “I know y’all are grown and I can’t make you kiss and make-up, like I did when y’all were little.” She sighs and wipes her hands on her apron. Smiling, she walks around the counter and comes to stand in front of me. “Remember that?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I remember,” I tell her, smiling and shaking my head at the memories of me and Deacon out on the back porch hugging it out before she’d let us back in the house. Fighting was never allowed in the Landry house. “We’re family,” she’d say. “We work things out with our words, not our fists.”

  “I just don’t want y’all to let this go too long or too far. Don’t let too much water run under the bridge.” She smiles sadly and cups my cheek. “I know you love each other and you need each other, even though you think you don’t. You do. And I’m not happy unless my boys are happy.”

  There’s the nail in the coffin.

  The guilt I’ve been feeling literally weighs me down like a ton of bricks. I know Deacon and me fighting upsets her and I know getting through the holidays is going to be tough, but we’re adults. We can handle this.

  “Don’t worry, Mama.” I kiss her cheek and give her shoulders a squeeze. “I’m gonna go say hi to Jose and Johnnie before I head back to the Red Stick.”

  “Okay, baby.” She squeezes me one last time before I head out to find the dogs. Jose probably thinks I’ve abandoned him. I used to come out here a few times a week and run them both ragged, but since starting on the new restaurant, I’ve only been out here a couple of times.

  On my way to the back of the property where they’re usually hanging around, I stop in my tracks. I can see Deacon’s cottage from here and it’s completely under construction. And I didn’t know anything about it. I always know everything going on with him. Usually before he knows what’s going on with himself.

  None of this feels right, but I don’t know how to fix any of it right now. Between New Orleans and Grinders and Dani and Deacon, my life feels like a chaotic mess. For now, I can only take it one thing at a time, and since the new restaurant is yelling the loudest, that’s what I’m going to focus on.

  Jose and Johnnie Walker come running around the old barn about the same time my phone rings in my pocket. I hope it’s Dani, but it’s not.

  Alex’s number lights up on the screen and I inwardly groan, wondering for the millionth time over the past few weeks what I’ve got myself into.

  I WATCH DANI AS WE make the drive from Baton Rouge to French Settlement. She’s pensive and quiet, something that’s become the norm lately and I don’t like it.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, not being able to take the silence any longer.

  “Nothing.” It’s a lie. I can see it in the way her eyebrows are drawn and how she won’t make eye contact with me.

  “Bullshit.”

  She sighs, her head turned toward the window, and I give her two seconds to start talking before I pull this truck over.

  “I just hate that everything is so messed up right now.” Her confession is soft and hesitant, with a hint of sadness that hits me in my chest. “I was really looking forward to the holidays. This will be my first with a big family. It’s something I’ve missed over the years. And I hate that you and Deacon are still fighting.”

  My chest literally aches as I try to find the right words to say. I feel like I’m constantly fixing shit these days. I want to fix this. But I don’t know how.

  “I’m sorry.” I decide to start there, because I am. I hadn’t even thought about this being Dani’s first holiday with family around and, of course, it’s something she’s looked forward to. She’s been without family for so long and over the short period she’s known mine, they’ve become her own.

  And fuck me if I don’t hate fighting with my brother just as much as everyone else hates it, but I’m not going to apologize for shit that’s not my fault. It’s not my fault Deacon is being an asshole. That’s all on him. As much as I want things to go back to the way they used to be, I’m not giving in to him. Besides, it’s too late, because the only way to fix it would be to not be in business with Alex, but that ship has sailed. I’m in this thing with Alex for the long haul.

  Dani reaches across the seat and takes my hand in hers, rubbing her thumb against mine. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. But you asked what’s wrong and that’s it. I just want to be honest with you. I feel like something is missing, like we’ve lost . . . something.”

  “What?” I ask, my heart starting to beat a little faster in my chest. I know I’m new to this whole relationship thing, and I know Dani and I haven’t seen as much of each other as we’d like to, but I thought we were doing okay.

  “That might be the wrong word. I don’t know what I’m trying to say,” she huffs out in frustration.

  “Just fucking say it,” I tell her, losing my composure, because lost and Dani can never go in the same sentence or breath.

  “I know you have to be in New Orleans. I know the restaurant needs your attention. I know with you and Deacon not being on good terms that means you aren’t going to be at Grinders any more than you have to right now. I know all of that so, I guess this is just me missing you. That’s all. I miss all the time we got to spend together when I first moved here. Just ignore me. I’m being an over-emotional girl this morning.” She laughs lightly and wipes at moisture under her eye, but gives me a small smile from across the cab of the truck.

  “Promise me we’re okay,” I plead, needing to know she’s still hanging in there with me.

  “We’re okay.”

  “And you’ll enjoy Thanksgiving as much as possible?” I ask, needing to lift the mood a little and get back on track before we pull in the drive at my parents’ house. “You’re gonna eat so much pumpkin pie and turkey that you’re in a food coma by the time the first football game comes on.”

  She chuckles, loosening the grip she had on my hand. “Yes, I’ll eat my fair share of pumpkin pie and turkey.”

  “And laugh at my dad’s lame jokes.”

  “Yes.”

  “And rub my belly later when I’m too full.”

  “No!” She shoves me and laughs harder. “You rub your own belly.”

  I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. The genuine, happy Dani is back and I sigh in relief. Lifting her hand off the seat, I kiss it.

  We’re gonna be okay.

  “Cami’s car,” Dani mumbles as we pull into the circle drive in front of the big house.

  “Yep, I bet Carter was beggin’ to come early. He loves helpin’ Mama in the kitchen.”

  “Yeah.”

  We get out of the truck and head up the front steps. Walking through the front door, an abundance of aromas hit me all at once and I groan. “Fuck, I love Thanksgiving.”

  “Watch your language,” my mama says as she breezes through the foyer and into the kitchen. I don’t even know where she came from, I’m guessing the garage. “Where’s Piper? I thought she was comin’ with y’all?”

  “She’ll be here shortly. She rented a car and stayed at a hotel in Baton Rouge last night. She said something about needing to go Black Friday shopping.” Dani shrugs out of her jacket and hangs it on the hook in the hallway.

  “Well, Cami will be happy to hear someone else is interested in that shit show.” Mama leans over for a kiss on her cheek and I give it to her, chuckling at her double standards. “Dani, sweetie, I need your help with the gravy and mashed potatoes.”

  “Duty calls,” Dani says with an excited gleam in her eyes. Bouncing up on her tiptoes, she plants a kiss on my cheek and runs off to help my mama.

  “Micah, go make sure your daddy doesn’t blow the place up,” mama calls over her shoulder. “He’s out back frying a turkey.”

  I groan, making my way through the kitchen. If my dad’s frying a turkey, that means Deacon isn’t here. I see the small smile from Cami as she pops a pan of rolls in the oven. Leaning over, I kiss her cheek
and can’t help laughing a little. “Buns in the oven,” I say gesturing to her stomach that’s still relatively flat.

  “Oh, you’ve got jokes.”

  “Uncle Micah,” Carter calls from the opposite side of the kitchen. He’s got an apron on and is layering up a pie crust with slices of apples. “I’m bakin’ apple pie.”

  “I see that, dude. You’re doin’ an awesome job.”

  He beams and continues on his way.

  When I get outside, I see my dad fanning smoke from the fryer. “Need some help?”

  “Nah, I got this,” he says, choking on a cloud of smoke. Then looks up at me and admits defeat. “I was hopin’ you’d be here soon. There was no way in hell I was goin’ in there and tellin’ your mama I practically burned my test turkey to bits.”

  “Test turkey?” I ask, laughing as I walk over and look into the pot of boiling hot oil.

  “Yeah, figured I should test it out before I commit.”

  “That’s always wise.”

  “Deke usually does this.”

  “Yeah,” I tell him, not making eye contact. I’m not ready for the third degree from my dad. He’s stayed pretty quiet about the whole deal, always the one to let us work out our own differences. But I know he’s chomping at the bit to say something. “Well, I think I see your problem,” I tell him, avoiding the elephant in the room, so to speak. “Your heat is up way too high. I’m surprised this baby didn’t blow.”

  I turn the temperature down to a suitable level and we wait to get a good read on the thermometer before dropping in the real bird.

  “Where is he, anyway?” I finally ask, not being able to stand it any longer. There’s no way in hell Deacon will miss Thanksgiving. That fucker lives for food.

  My dad takes a sip of his beer before answering. “Cami said he’s sulking like a big baby.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Her words, not mine.”

  “What does that mean? He’s not comin’?” I ask incredulously. “That’s suicide. He knows that, right? Mama will kill him.”

  “Yep,” he says with a nod and tips his bottle back, emptying the contents.

  “Surely, he’ll show.”

 

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