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Mom sat forward in her seat and looked smug. “What about Lauren? And Cherry Kelly? They dated in high school.”
I pinched my lips closed. This wasn’t something I was willing to discuss, and as it was, my stomach was already hurting from nerves. I hated when everyone looked at me.
“Oh yeah,” Colt said with a laugh. “I know they had sex because poor Cherry came into the Superette looking for a pregnancy test after they went to prom together. Remember that? You dodged a bullet there, little brother.”
Now I was mortified on top of nauseous.
“Isaac Denton Winshed, is this true?” My mother had suddenly notched her voice up to the level that silenced all other communication in the house. You could have heard a pin drop.
I lowered my head, trying to sink inside myself. I didn’t want to contribute to gossip about Cherry Kelly, but at the same time, I could hardly lie to my mother after she’d asked me a direct question. Thankfully, before I had a chance to answer, my father stepped in.
“This is hardly the kind of conversation appropriate for the dinner table.”
When everyone started talking again, Beth leaned over and whispered, “Is it true? Did you and Cherry have sex in high school?”
I swallowed and nodded, but I didn’t tell her about me insisting on using not one, but two, condoms because I was so scared of getting her pregnant. When I found out she’d had a pregnancy scare, I’d known she’d probably been sleeping with Bobby Hilden even though she’d told me they were long broken up. It was fine by me. The sex had been awkward and awful. It had turned me off trying it again for a long time.
“Huh. I was wrong, then. Sorry about that. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay.” She ducked down to meet my eyes even though I was trying real hard to keep mine on my lap. “You know that, right? There’s nothing wrong with any kind of sexuality that involves legality and consent. And I will love you no matter what—”
I couldn’t take this anymore.
“I gotta go,” I blurted, shoving my chair back. “Sorry. I forgot I have to drop something off at… someone’s house, and, uh… yeah. And I gotta go.”
As I raced out the door, my mother got one more chance to gasp in shock. “What about my leaky faucet?”
Before I could get out to my truck, Eli stopped me. “Hey, wait. Gimme your phone.”
I blinked at him in confusion. “Why?”
He held out his hand and gave me the look that all older brothers had, the one that said do what I say or get a knuckle sandwich.
“Fine, here,” I said, slapping it into his hand. He tapped around in it for a bit before handing it back.
“I put Cooper’s info in there for you. Give him a call. He’s desperate for extra work right now and could really use the money.”
I was not suggesting Cooper Heath for this sponsorship. He was about as likely to know how to use a Stallion tool as he was to know how to replace a crank shield on a hay baler. The very idea was ridiculous. Last I’d heard, the man had been cast in a commercial for Crest Whitening Strips.
Eli stared me down. “I mean it, Nine. His brother’s in bad shape. If they can’t earn enough money for a bone marrow transplant, he could die.”
“What do you want me to do, Eli? Lie and tell Stallion the guy’s a DIY YouTuber when he’s not?”
Eli studied me for a minute. “No, but… if I can figure out a way for us to help him, you’ll do it, right?”
I sighed and looked up at the darkened sky. My brother already knew the answer to that question.
Nine will help.
It was what I was known for. Stranded on the highway with a blown tire? Call Nine. Need someone to pick up a bag of ice before the party? Nine will do it. One of the Wise Men in the pageant called in sick? That costume will surely fit Nine Winshed, and we all know that man doesn’t say no to anyone in need.
“Of course I will,” I muttered before whistling for Nacho to load up in the truck. Even if I didn’t much care for Cooper Heath, I was a sucker for someone in need. His brother deserved a healthy life. And if it was in my power to help him get it, well, I’d do whatever I could.
I always did.
2
Cooper
I wondered if there was a place in hell for nurses who used the phrase “Just a little poke” before jabbing a needle into your skin.
Just the sight of it made me feel faint, so I dropped into the nearest visitor chair by the window.
My brother’s wince was almost imperceptible since he took great pride in acting like this was all just a normal walk in the park. It wasn’t. It had been a horrible slog through muddy waters for nearly two years while we struggled to find a diagnosis for his chronic fatigue and fevers. But now we had one.
