Page 107 of Big Dill

I have no intentions of doing that, but this was the quickest way to get her into her room for…well…for whatever she wants…whatever is going to make her happy. After all, Jaxon tasked me with that assignment.

But that’s when it hits me.

As soon as she reaches me, and sees the sudden terror on my face, she goes still. “What?” she asks, breathless.

“When Mr. Cheeseman said, ‘Good to see things are up with you too, Brody’, you don’t think he was talking about…” I point downward.

Her eyes go wide. “Oh, my God. I think he was.”

“Oh, God, this might be worse than the time he filled my pockets with condoms for my senior year’s Valentine’s Day dance, and gave me the talk.”

“He did not!”

I grimace and bury my face in my hands. “He did too. Was trying to be my father figure, you know. Thought he was helping.”

She grabs my jacket and hauls me into the room. “Well Brody, did he teach you any tricks I should know?”

“No, Jami,” I rush out, laughing and mortified all at once. “Just…no. We are not going there.” She laughs and jumps onto the bed and I shake my head. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Hey if you’re going to be hard on me on the pickleball court, I’m going to be hard on you too.” She glances down and crooks her finger. “Now…speaking of hard…”

25

Jami

“Hey, big bro,” I say as I step into Jaxon’s hospital room. It’s been a long week worrying about him, and waiting for his surgery.

The lights are low, the curtains half-drawn against the blustery afternoon, everything washed in that sterile, too-bright white hospitals seem to favor. Jaxon’s on his side in the bed, his back to us, one arm tucked beneath his pillow.

I glance at Brody and instinctively slow my steps. “Maybe he’s sleeping.”

“Not sleeping,” Jaxon says, his voice rough as gravel.

He rolls onto his back, eyes heavy, pupils blown wide and unfocused. Pain meds, I assume. My chest tightens anyway.

“Did we wake you?” I hurry to his side, dropping my bag and leaning down to wrap my arms around him.

“Nope,” he says, a tired smile pulling at his mouth. “Just resting.”

I breathe him in—hospital soap, antiseptic, and something familiar that tells me my brother is still my brother, even here, even broken. I peel off my winter coat and scarf, and sit on the bed next to him.

Brody hangs back, giving us space. He always seems to know just what I need.

“How was the helicopter ride over?” Jaxon asks, eyes flicking to mine. He knows how much I hate flying.

I snort. “Frank is a menace to society.”

Jaxon’s lips twitch.

“My God,” I add, pressing a hand to my chest, “I’m pretty sure my fingernails are still embedded in the seat. Although…” I shrug, forcing a smile. “The ride over the falls was really cool. Brody thought I’d like that.”

Jaxon lets out a low laugh. “Frank,” he murmurs, like that explains everything.

What is it with Frank?

“Brody here?”

Brody steps up beside me. “Hey, Jaxon.”