Dad
Go easy on him, boys. It’s hard work learning to be a good husband.
Walker
Not for me. I’m a natural.
Sadie
Love your confidence, babe. So humble too. Lila, sweetie, we’ll come over with some meals for you two. And of course we can keep Lucky with us as long as you need.
Sadie
And Slade, you can still make it up to her. Nothing sweeter than a man who knows how to earn his way back into his wife’s good graces.
I don’t want to know what Walker’s done to make her say that. Or how exactly he’s earned his way back into his wife’s good graces.
Some things you do not need to know about your siblings.
The nurse appears in the doorway. “Mr. Rhodes? You can come back now.”
I follow the nurse into the exam room.
Lila is on the exam table with her wrapped ankle elevated, still in her hiking clothes, her hair damp from the sleet. She looks up when I come in and her whole face changes. It’s that relief of seeing the familiar face you were waiting for finally by your side. I feel my own face doing the same thing and don’t try to stop it.
When I come to her bedside, I gently stroke a few strands of hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here.”
Something stirs in my chest at that, something possessive and warm and a little frightening in its intensity.
She means it simply. Of course she feels better: I’m her husband, I’m the familiar face, it’s just relief. I know that’s what she means.
It’s just that I’ve never been that person for anyone before. The one who makes them feel better just by walking through the door. I’ve spent my whole life being the one who shows up and does the work and then steps back so someone else can take the credit. The middle child. The defenseman. The one who doesn’t need much.
Nobody has ever looked at me the way she just did and meant: you. Specifically you. That’s who I was waiting for.
I brush my thumb across her cheek and keep my hand there.
“It’s a sprain,” she says, leaning into my touch. “You were right.”
“You did good today,” I tell her. “You’re fucking tough, you know that?”
“Yeah, right,” she blushes.
“You are. I’ve sprained both ankles at least twice and that shit hurts.”
“Bet you played through it, didn’t you?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve played on abrokenankle. But I’m stupid.”
She laughs at that. Beneath the fluorescent lights, she looks so vulnerable and delicate and I just want to wrap her up safe and take her home.
“You warm enough?” I ask.
“Getting there.”
I take her chilly hands in both of mine. I rub them slowly between my palms while she looks at me thoughtfully.
