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Bill lifts Butterscotch onto his lap, and I head over to the duo.
“’Bout time you two showed up.” The smile twitching on Bill’s mouth lessens the impact of his grumbling tone. He strokes Butterscotch’s loose curls. “Thought you were gonna stand us up.”
I take the empty chair between Frank and him. “I would never do that. I was held up at work for a few minutes.”
“Was that for those cabins you and your brothers are building?” Frank asks.
“Nope. We work on those on the weekends.” For now, our full-time careers come first. The adventure program for military vets is our passion project. A way to give back to those who served our country. “I was delayed because the team renovating a house for one of my clients had an issue with the plumbing, which set back a shitload of things I needed to finish before coming here.”
Frank shifts forward in his chair, settling his forearms on his knees. “How’re those cabins coming along?”
“Good. We’ve finished the main building. The first half of the cabins will be ready midsummer. For the out-of-towners.” Phase one of the long-term plans for the Wilderness Warriors program. A program dreamed up by my brother Lucas and our grandfather years ago. A program that started to become a reality last fall.
Frank picks up the playing cards on the coffee table and begins shuffling them. “It’s too bad your grandfather isn’t here to see his dream come alive.”
Bill looks up at the ceiling, still stroking Butterscotch, who happily basks in the attention. “I like to think he’s watching from above and hooting you boys on.” He drops his gaze to me. “He’d be proud of what you boys have accomplished. Both with your careers and the outdoor rec program. I don’t suppose we’ll get to sign up for it?”
“You guys are more than welcome to participate,” I tell them. “My grandfather would be thrilled to know you got to enjoy his dream. It’s meant for veterans of all ages and physical abilities.”
“So you’ll take us rock climbing?” Frank grins, his teeth white against his weathered face. Bill cracks up.
A chuckle vibrates through my chest. “Our insurance might not go for that.” They definitely wouldn’t approve of the two eightysomething-year-olds rock climbing.
“Damn insurance companies,” Bill mutters. “What do they know anyway? We’ve already been put out to pasture as far as they’re concerned.”
Frank nods in agreement. I fight back the smile twitching on my mouth.
Katelyn comes over and stands next to his chair. “Hey, Troy.” She sounds breathless, as if she was just running. “Did you want to play a game of ping-pong?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.” I’m more interested in hanging out with these guys.
“All right. Let me know if you change your mind.” She heads to a group of women playing cards at another table.
Frank shakes his head, the slow movement powered by either disbelief or disappointment or both. “Are you crazy, Troy?”
“The last I heard, no.”
“C’mon, you telling me you don’t want a piece of that?” He nods at Katelyn, and his hands mime a curvy body.
Bill snort-laughs, startling Butterscotch on his lap. “I think what he’s trying to say is why don’t you date her? And I have to agree with him there. She’s a cheery sort of girl. Flexible too from all that yoga she does.” His eyebrows dance above faded blue eyes.
I glance at the woman in question, but as much as I like her as a casual friend, my dick isn’t interested. “I’m not looking to date anyone. I’m busy with work and the cabins. Plus, I’ve been looking into buying a house and flipping it. More specifically, buying Iris Bromfield’s house. That’s if Anne Carstairs will consider selling it.”
Frank stops shuffling the playing cards and looks at me as though I’ve announced I’m painting my body purple and running down Main Street naked. “Why would you want to do that?”
“The proceeds will go to help Olivia and Nova. Colton left them a life-insurance policy, but because his death was ruled a suicide, they were screwed out of the money. Olivia’s back to teaching again, but I know things are tight for her and her daughter.” I’m also doing it because I’d promised Colt two years ago that I’d take care of Olivia and Nova if anything ever happened to him. As kids, we’d been The Three Musketeers.All for one, and one for all.
“Damn insurance companies,” Bill repeats. “They failed your friend when he had PTSD, and they failed his family. It’s not Olivia’s and Nova’s fault he killed himself. It’s the insurance company for not helping him when he was struggling.”
I wince. The insurance company wasn’t at fault. The system failed Colton, and I failed him. I knew he’d struggled after a truck collided on the highway with a bus filled with young athletes on their way to their hockey game. Colton was a paramedic and one of the first responders at the scene. Half the passengers were already dead when he got there. I should have pushed harder to get him help. He couldn’t deal with the nightmares and stress anymore, and he ended his life.
Frank resumes shuffling the cards. “There needs to be more done to help PTSD sufferers and their families. The mental health field has come a long way since we served in Vietnam, but it’s not there yet.”
Butterscotch jumps off Bill’s lap and walks to Frank.Frank pauses his shuffling and lifts him up. Butterscotch settles himself on the man’s lap. “Like everything else, it comes down to lack of funding. Those damn politicians in Washington waste money on stupid stuff, but they don’t do enough for mental illness.”
It’s true. Things are better than they used to be, but the system still comes up short. Especially for those individuals who can’t afford therapy or medications or even health insurance.
“Someone ought to have a fundraiser to help the military vets and first responders in the area who struggle with PTSD,” Bill suggests. “The money could go to assist them and their families.”
