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Lucas choked. “Wow. What does that entail, exactly?”
“Coll, it was your mom who gave me the idea,” Bryce said. “You know? All these old chicks starting to fall apart, complaining about their creaky knees and hot flashes, and I’m like, ‘Girls, you need to get out there a little more, get the blood flowing, right?’ and your mom says, ‘Bryce, if the instructor looked like you, I’d do it.’ So I’m like, ‘Dude, what an awesome idea!’ And she got all those other chicks to sign up. Isn’t that great?”
“I think my grandmother just joined that class,” Faith said.
“She did!” Bryce said. “What do you think, Lucas?”
As ever, his cousin wanted his approval. “Sounds good, buddy. You’ll be great at it.” He paused. “You need insurance and waivers and a place and all that.”
“I know,” he said. “Carlos Mendez said if I started working on getting certified as a personal trainer, he’d let me work out of the gym, so long as my clients joined.” He paused. “I’m not good at that much, but I know how to work out, and I like women.” He smiled and shrugged.
“Good for you, Bryce,” Lucas said.
“I think it’s genius,” Colleen said. “You could also call it Women Who Love Looking at Bryce. Half the town would join.”
“You could be grandfathered in,” Bryce said with a wink, and Lucas wasn’t sure, but for a second, Colleen looked almost...stricken.
But a moment later, she was laughing at something Faith said and flirting with an old guy in a flannel shirt.
Hannah O’Rourke came out of the kitchen. “Collie, Connor wants you.”
“Roger,” she said. She went into the kitchen, attracting a good amount of male attention, Lucas’s included.
At that moment, his phone buzzed. Rushing Creek.
“You’d better get here as soon as you can, Mr. Campbell,” said the nurse. “It looks like it’s time.”
* * *
“WESHOULDTELLmy mom,” Bryce objected as Lucas towed him down the hallway toward the hospice wing. “I’ll call her now.”
“There’s no time,” Lucas said. Didi and Joe had kept the divorce from Bryce as if he was a fragile eight-year-old. “Come on, buddy.”
For the past eleven days, Lucas had spent a lot of time in this room. He’d brought in photo albums, meticulously kept since Bryce’s birth onward, and listened as Joe told him who was who in the pictures, or described where they’d been—here’s the one from the Cascades...this was in Zion National Park. Oh, the river walk in San Antonio! And here’s when we were in France.
The room felt different now, heavy with the sound of Joe’s labored breathing. His uncle’s face was puffy, and he appeared to be sleeping.
Bryce hesitated in the doorway.
“Joe? We’re here,” Lucas said. He went to his uncle’s bedside and took his hand, gesturing for Bryce to come closer. Bryce stayed put.
“Hi,” Joe whispered. He opened his eyes with effort, and saw Bryce. “Hi, honey-boy,” he said.
Bryce took a shuddering breath. “Hey, Dad.”
“Come on over here,” Joe said, and Bryce obeyed, tears sliding down his face.
“Oh, Dad. Please don’t die.” There was a note of panic in his voice, poor kid. Bryce sat down in the bedside chair and took his father’s hand.
“I’m sorry about this, son,” Joe whispered. There was a rattle in his breathing now.
Lucas moved to Joe’s other side and put a hand on his shoulder. “What can we do for you, Joe?” he asked.
He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to his own father, but he was here now.
His uncle looked up. “Lucas...” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Would you mind...leaving Bryce and me alone?”
Lucas blinked. He glanced at his cousin, who was sobbing softly, his head on his father’s arm. “Um...sure. Of course.” He paused, leaned down and kissed his uncle’s forehead. “Thank you, Joe,” he whispered. “For taking me in.”
