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“He hates me,” Ben whispered.
“Who?”
“Uncle J.”
Lucy gaped at the boy, at the heartbreak and anger. This was bad, really bad. And she had no idea what the boundaries were. Or the rules. Jeremiah wouldn’t like her interfering, but Ben was a young boy in a lot of pain who needed all the help he could get. “Oh, honey, no he doesn’t—”
“Yes, he does,” Ben spat. “And I hate him, too. I do. I hate him. He’s not my dad.”
“Jeremiah’s on his way,” Mia said coming around the side of the house. She glanced over at the car and winced. “So much for Mom’s roses.”
“I’m sorry,” Ben whispered.
Mia laughed and handed Ben a glass of water. “Not as sorry as you’re gonna be when your uncle gets here.”
Jeremiah stared at Reese’s sports car, covered in slaughtered rose bushes, and wished he had one clue about how to handle this. One single clue. A hint. He wished he could have a five minute conversation with his sister for some guidance, because he was totally in the dark. He tried to think of what his own father would have done in this situation, a tactic that usually helped him in whatever parenting dilemma he was facing. But Jeremiah had never caused the kind of trouble Ben seemed drawn to.
So he stared at those rose bushes, the yellow clapboard house with the—thank God—cement foundation, and waited for the answers to come to him.
“The house is fine,” Jack said, and Jeremiah nodded as if that was the much-needed answer to a question. But the truth was that he didn’t care about the house right now. He cared about the sullen, wild-eyed, nine-year-old ball of anger to his left.
What about Ben, he wanted to ask. Is he fine? Will he ever be fine again? Will any of us?
Reese started up his car and slowly pulled it away from the house. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as if they’d all been expecting the house to fall apart. The back of the car looked like an accordion. A broken, very, very expensive accordion.
“You,” Jeremiah said through his teeth unable to even look at his nephew. “Will be working at the ranch until you’ve paid off repairs to that car. In fact, I think you’re grounded until you’re about thirty and if you even—”
Lucy cleared her throat and he glanced sideways at her, infuriated at her interruption.
“About that,” she said. “What if he works off the repairs here?”
Ben looked up at that and his hope was palpable.
“Don’t get excited, buddy,” he muttered. “There’s no way you’re working here.”
“Wait, Jeremiah, hear me out—” She stepped toward him, the long dark locks of hair that had fallen from the messy knot on top of her head reached out on the breeze. The lines of weariness around her eyes didn’t make her any less pretty and he felt like a jackass even noticing that.
“Ben, go wait for me in the truck.” Like a criminal out on parole, the boy took off for the truck and Jeremiah watched him go, gathering up what was left of his composure. When he felt like he could speak like an adult he turned back to Lucy and held up his hand. “The kid is in some kind of crisis,” he said. “And he doesn’t need to be coddled. He needs to understand he’s done something wrong—”
“I’m not arguing with you Jeremiah,” she said. “But...look, something isn’t working between you and Ben. It’s obvious.”
Jeremiah felt his ears get hot. She was right. So painfully right.
“You’re not sticking around. Why would you want to have Ben here?”
“Mom and I are staying at least three more weeks. And I’m just...I’m just offering you a chance to try something new with him. Something different. So, you know, you don’t have to always be the bad guy.”
“And you’re going to be the bad guy?”
Lucy bristled at his sarcasm and took a step back.
“I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah and I appreciate it, but this is family stuff. And we’ll handle it.”
Reese approached, looking like death warmed over in last night’s clothes. “I think I’m going to have to get the car fixed here. There’s no way I can drive it back to Fort Worth.”
Jeremiah swore and kept on swearing.
“Come on, man,” Reese said, his smile bright despite the black circles under his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”
“It is,” Jeremiah said, honest because he couldn’t pretend anymore. “But it’s time to fix this.” Just saying that made him feel better, made him feel like he was pulling his family away from rock bottom. First, he had to get Reese off his damn couch. Life would be easier without this damn reminder of the old days drinking beer and snoring in his living room.
And then, maybe it was time to break the family code of silence. Get Ben some help.
