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Lexie
My brother gavethe best hugs.
Watching him hold Lincoln, a powerful, untouchable man, made me proud. Eric didn’t worry about boundaries. He operated by what he felt, by what he sensed people needed.
Did Lincoln need a hug? He was so stoic most of the time, it was hard to remember a human being was inside that beautiful exterior shell.
“I thought you were starving.” He nudged my barely touched plate. “Are you a vegetarian?”
“No.” I righted my dangling fork in my fingers. “Just too tired to eat.”
“And you still have to make tomorrow’s dog food, right?”
I resisted the urge to slouch. I was comfortable with these people, considered them friends—not Lincoln, but the rest of them. But I wasn’t ready to let them see the messy part of our lives. The not-put-together part. The slouchy part.
Yet Lincoln had had a glimpse.
“Thanks for reminding me.” I made an annoyed face at him.
He didn’t seem to notice. “How long does it take?”
“A few hours.” I forked a bite of brisket. “I’d put it off until the morning, but we only have the evening available for the kitchen.”
Eric had scarfed down most of what was on his plate, and now sank into his seat. He yawned and was quiet. We’d been working so hard with barely any time off. He was a trooper. He did whatever was needed and never complained.
We both needed rest. I just wasn’t sure when we could work that into our busy calendar.
“Lexie, you’ve never told us how you and Eric got into the dog food business.” Miss Adeline’s focus turned to me, as did everyone else’s, but Lincoln’s was the one I felt most acutely.
“We help an older neighbor with groceries and anything she can’t do easily on her own.”
“Mrs. Brooks.” Eric perked up at the mention of the lady. “She had a dog, Duke. He’s in doggie heaven now.”
“He is.” I patted his arm. “About seven years ago, we were at the market and the dog food we grabbed spilled.”
“It went everywhere,” Eric said.
The mess wasn’t funny at the time, but looking back, it was. And he was right. It was a disaster.
“The food was like cardboard. Dog’s shouldn’t have to eat cardboard.” Eric was adamant, passionate.
“While we helped clean up, Eric came up with the idea. We did some research about dog nutrition and came up with a recipe.”
“Duke wouldn’t touch it.”
Everyone snickered.
“Our first test was not successful,” I agreed.
“Good thing you didn’t try it out on these hooligans. They’ll eat anything,” Miss Adeline said.
“I’m not sure they would’ve eaten that.”
That earned another round of laughs. Except Lincoln, who looked like an unfeeling rock.
“It took us seventeen tries,” Eric volunteered. We didn’t put that nugget of information on our brochure.
“Duke was our guinea pig. But eventually, we found the right formula.”
