by Marie Harte
Before Cash could respond, Reid plowed on, knowing he needed to get his words in before his brother tuned him out. So far, Cash was listening. “I’m sorry about Mom. I just…I can’t get my head around it. Yeah, we had our problems, but she never treated me like I didn’t matter.” He flushed, knowing Cash had felt that way for a long time. “Dad was always hard on you, but Mom did still know you, Cash. Until the end, she knew me too.”
Cash sighed and went around him to the couch, where he sat, crossed his ankles on the coffee table, and put his head back. “Dude, I know. Angela had plenty of issues. But you were a good son, always treated her right.”
“I still feel guilty for being away so many years. I used the Marine Corps as an excuse,” Reid admitted and sat next to Cash. “I could have visited her more on leave.”
“Instead you spent time with me when we caught breaks. You blame me for that?”
Reid stared at his brother’s slack face. Though Cash didn’t seem to care much about his answer, Reid felt the subtle tension between them. “Hell, no. None of this is your fault. Not any of it. This is about me being a bad son and hating the fact she must have known because she totally cut me out of her will.” A hard knot settled in his chest. “I don’t care about the house or her stuff. It was never about her things.”
Cash settled a hand on his shoulder and turned to face him. “Bro, you’re not a pussy if you cry. Go ahead, let those tears fall.”
Reid angrily wiped his cheeks.
“Well, maybe a tiny pussy.”
Reid couldn’t hold in his laughter. “You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah, I am.” Cash sighed and gripped Reid’s shoulder. “It’s been you and me against the world for a long time, Reid. That Angela for some reason left me everything doesn’t change that. She wasn’t a good mom, but you’ve always been a better son than me.”
“No, I—”
“Yes, just accept it. I’m good with that.” Cash sounded as if he was. “The house, her shit, none of it matters. What matters is you and me.”
Reid didn’t know why, as Cash had said it all before, but a huge weight seemed to slide off him, unburdening him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I love you, Little Brother. I make a lot of mistakes, and you’re always bailing me out of trouble. I hate it. I’m trying to do better.”
Reid didn’t mention that concussion Jordan had told him about, just listened as Cash continued to talk.
“I’m sorry I’m not better about sharing you. Naomi’s your girl, and I need to respect that. I do respect that. It’s just, I guess…” Cash flushed. “I guess I’m worried you’ll ditch me for good. I can’t compare with her tits and ass.”
Reid grinned. “No, you can’t. I hate to break it to you, but you’re pretty flat-chested.”
Cash slapped him on the back of the head, and it felt as if nothing had changed between them, yet everything had.
Reid ducked a second slap to the head. “I know what you’re saying. But you have to know you’ll always be my brother. My best friend. If you ever needed me, I’d drop everything to come to your side, including Naomi.” Realizing how that sounded, he amended, “I mean, not drop her forever. But if you were in danger I’d leave her to—”
“Bro, I get it.” Cash smiled. “You still have my back, and I always have yours. And Naomi’s a part of you now. You can drag your feet and pretend like she’s not it for you, but we both know she is.”
Love for Naomi filled the void that Reid hadn’t been aware existed, until her. “She is. We’re taking any kind of marriage talk slow though. But that doesn’t mean there’s no room for you in my life—in our life.”
“I was acting like a shit, and I know it. This thing with Angela happening now hasn’t helped.” He gave Reid a pointed look.
“My fault. I agree, I’ve been avoiding the house and the crap that comes with it. But I want to help you with that mess. And no matter what you say, you’re keeping the house. It’s yours.”
“But—”
“No.” He’d talked to Naomi about it, and she supported his decision one hundred percent. “They owe you, Cash. For years of treating you like dirt, for not letting you be a part of our family. Charles and Angela owe you that much.” Reid stared into his brother’s eyes, willing him to believe it. “You’re a great Marine, a great man, and those assholes need to pay for what they did to you.” He saw his brother’s surprise that he’d refer to their parents in that way. But they both knew the truth.
“Dad tried to make you feel bad about yourself forever, and you still stuck it to him by being a better man than he could ever hope to be. Mom might not have been there, but she knew in the end she loved you.”
“She loved you too,” Cash said, his voice thick, full of emotion. “Charles was a shit. Angela was just gone from the beginning.”
“But we’re still here. You and me. And I might have Naomi, but it looked to me like you might have Jordan.”
“Nah,” Cash was quick to point out. “We’re just kind of dating. It’s new and probably won’t last.”
“But you want it to, don’t you?”
Cash remained quiet for a moment. “Maybe.”
“That’s a yes. Now who’s being a pussy?” He ignored the finger his brother shot him, relieved to see Cash getting fired up, not so down anymore. “Sure, you get into fights and get yourself in trouble. A lot. Or at least you used to. Let’s be honest. You taking down a burglary and saving a boy’s life not only was the right thing to do, it’s the whole reason our business is booming.”
Cash grinned. “Well, not the whole reason.”
“And I’m sure whatever happened tonight wasn’t just you screwing off.”
Cash sighed. “I was trying to help a guy who got jumped by three bigger guys. It wasn’t cool. Then they cheated by trying to brain me with a free weight.”
Reid snorted. “Only you.”
“Hey, it hurt.”
“You’re always where you need to be, even if you come out with a few scrapes.” Reid thought back to Cash’s many commendations in the Marine Corps for bravery, for being the guy to do the right thing no matter the cost to himself. “You might be a big idiot, but I’m glad you’re my brother.”
“Well said, Reid.” Cash chuckled. “Now if you’re done being a little momma’s boy, will you help me clear out the rest of the crap from the house? If I’m gonna keep it, I have to think about whether to sell it or live in it. Since you’re moving in with the hot redhead soon.”
“Uh, not that soon.” Sure, he and Naomi had talked about it. A lot, actually.
“Soon.” Cash read him clearly, as he always had. “Then I need to figure out what to do. And before you go apologizing again, as much as you like to think I can’t live without you, I actually can and have lived on my own.” He shook his head. “I’m thirty-six, dickbag. I always knew I’d eventually leave. No living with my sad little bro forever. Fly, little guy, be free.”
“Who the hell are you calling a dickbag?” The joy Reid felt, knowing Cash supported and still loved him, overwhelmed him. Cash might not realize it, but Reid knew they’d taken a huge step forward in their relationship. For the first time, Reid realized he didn’t need to be his brother’s keeper. Just Cash’s brother, to love and support him. “You know, Cash, I think you’re finally growing up.”
“Fuck you.”
“But we still need to work on that vocabulary.” He grinned at the face Cash made. “Now tell me in detail what happened at the gym. And why do I have a feeling I’ll be getting a phone call from Gavin Donnigan again?” This time he’d let Gavin know Cash could fight his own battles but that Reid had no problem playing backup should the Griffiths need to stand tall.
Chapter 13
“Happy Independence Day!” Maria Younger raised her glass and waited for the rest of them to raise their plastic cups as they sa
t outside at the picnic table in the backyard of the house Jordan had grown up in. “Thank you for your service, Jordan.”
Jordan smiled, still cautious, and drank her fruit punch. Next to her, Rafi did the same. Carl, Leanne, her fiancé Troy, and their mother drank a local organic beer, the grownups enjoying a sunny Fourth of July picnic.
The food had been enjoyable if a little bland. The entire picnic was organic, sugar- and gluten-free, and non-GMO. As usual with her parents, no “bad” stuff allowed, even in the food.
Rafi liked being home, she knew, but more than that, he loved being with their parents. No matter what he said or how he tried to act rebellious, he loved them. As he should. It had hurt him, deeply, that the pair had wanted to ship him off to kid boot camp rather than stick it out through the tough times and help him adjust.
Jordan had to squelch her irritation with them, knowing they loved all their children but didn’t know how to best help them. Leanne, “La Princesa,” smiled her bright-white teeth at Troy, Mr. Wonderful, and toasted him.
“And to my amazing fiancé”—Jordan sipped her punch, having turned the mentions of “fiancé” into a private drinking game—“Troy Fielding, for making partner in his firm!”
They all drank, though Jordan wondered why Leanne had to make a big deal about Troy during the one holiday that celebrated independence. Ironic considering Leanne had never shown all that much independence herself.
And there you go, being bitchy again.
“Not so surprising, Troy,” Carl said with a big grin. Of average height but sporting a killer smile and bright-blue eyes, he very well looked the part of Leanne’s father despite having no biological tie. Rafi and Jordan, meanwhile, took after their mother’s side of the family. Unfortunately, Maria didn’t know much about her Brazilian relatives, since her own mother had only ever concentrated on being “American.”
The few times Jordan had met her grandmother, Vó Ana had given her treats and spoken in broken English and Portuguese. The woman had passed away when Jordan was six, and all traces of her family’s Brazilian heritage had sadly died with her.
Jeff Fleming had, by all accounts, been a good man and loving husband. Jordan remembered his big hugs and smiles and the way he’d been so invested in his family. The accident had hurt them all, but a year later, their mother had found Carl, another good man.
Except Carl let Maria hide from the ugly side of family a little too well. Though Jordan could understand not wanting to deal with angry teenagers, now living with one, she couldn’t conceive of washing her hands of her brother. It had been tough enough for her to strike out on her own under the guidance of Army drill sergeants. And she’d been eighteen and of strong mind.
Rafi had problems, issues his family should be helping him resolve.
“Jordan?” Leanne waited.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“How’s work going?”
Thinking of Cash, she smiled. “Good. It’s not mentally taxing, but I like that.”
Her mother sighed. “When are you going to figure out what you’re doing with your life?”
Carl warned, “Maria.”
“No, Carl. It’s a legitimate question. Can you imagine moving boxes when you’re sixty years old?” she asked Jordan.
Troy scoffed. “I’ve told you I can get you a job at my company. They need security people, and you were military police.”
The way he said “security people” put Jordan on edge. The man never outright stated his prejudices, but it was clear to her that he thought himself better than everyone else. Except for maybe Leanne.
“I don’t want a security job, thanks. I’m using this time to help my brother,” she said pointedly to her parents, who didn’t so much as blink, “and to figure out my goals. I have the GI Bill to use, and I don’t want to make any mistakes and waste credits.”
Carl perked up. “See? That’s our smart girl. Jordan has always gone her own way, and she’s been remarkable.”
Jordan liked that he’d stood up for her.
“I know.” Leanne gushed. “My sister is tough and a hard worker. I was actually wanting to interview her for a piece we’re doing at the magazine.”
A stupid e-zine that had over a million subscribers and put out a corresponding print edition each month. And of course, Leanne was one of its leading contributors and a top editor. It sometimes bothered Jordan that everything her sister touched turned to gold. Then again, if Leanne ever had to deal with adversity, her head would probably explode.
“What a terrific idea, honey.” Troy kissed Leanne’s cheek. “You’re so smart.”
Next to her, Rafi whispered, “Barf.”
Unfortunately, Maria overheard. “That’s the problem, right there. No respect for your family.”
“Mom,” Jordan said, trying to deflect the negative attention. “Rafi is going to classes and doing his best. And that’s not easy.” Not when you were a rebellious teenager.
“You should be more like your sister,” Carl said.
“Which one?” Rafi gave them an innocent smile. “The hardass Army cop or the blond angel sleeping her way to a Fortune 500 win with Troy? And, dude, are your teeth naturally that white? Because I don’t think so. Go easy next time on the bleach.”
“Rafi.” Leanne scowled at him. “Tell Troy you’re sorry.”
Troy covered her hand. “It’s okay, honey. I remember being wild during my teen years.” He smiled, and damn if Rafi hadn’t nailed it. Those teeth were blinding. “It was all my parents could do to settle me down. I almost attended Berkeley.” He laughed. “Imagine not going to Stanford.”
Since Carl had also attended that prestigious university, he laughed. “What a disaster.”
Jordan made a face her mother saw.
“Problem?”
“Well, yeah. Who cares what college you go to as long as you try your best? And, you know, college isn’t for everyone.” Jordan knew she sounded defensive, but her argument was on Rafi’s behalf, not necessarily her own.
“College actually does serve a purpose, Jordan.” Carl sounded apologetic at least. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
“Only in certain fields,” Jordan argued. “I get it if you’re in business, becoming a lawyer or doctor.”
“And even in the literary and academic worlds.” Leanne nodded. “I mean, the fact I went to Princeton was huge in getting me my first job with The New Yorker then Granta. I was lucky to make connections, which led to this huge step up editing at Femme Moderne.”
“But that’s not for everyone.” Cash and Reid hadn’t gone to business school, and they were doing well. Maybe not well, but making a decent wage to be proud of. “And, heck, Mom doesn’t even work.”
“But I did work when you were younger,” her mother pointed out. “I went to college and got my degree. The only reason I didn’t use it much was because I had you guys to raise.”
“And you still have Rafi in high school,” Jordan reminded her, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. The picnic had been going so well. Good food and her parents had been nice. Leanne had been annoying, but Jordan chalked up her own animosity to feelings of jealousy and not liking Troy, not that Leanne had put a foot wrong.
Rafi tensed. “You sick of me? Is this you trying to get rid of me too?”
“What? No.” Jordan wrapped an arm around him, waiting for him to squirm free. But he didn’t. “I love having you with me. I think you’re going to do great, just as soon as we get you through this summer.” Don’t do it, Jordan. This isn’t the time to confront Mom and Dad.
Troy opened his fat mouth. “You know, it’s common for teenagers to have issues at their age. We all have problems. We just have to muddle through them on our own.”
Leanne nodded. “I did. I had a horrible time in AP Chemistry, but I made study friends and got through.”
“Jes
us, Leanne. This isn’t about you or Mr. White Teeth.” Hell. Jordan hadn’t meant to let that slip.
Troy’s eyes narrowed.
Yeah, he must have sensed she didn’t like him before because she’d always done her best not to talk to him. But Jordan had been more circumspect about keeping her distance.
“Jordan.” Maria gaped. “That’s just rude.”
Carl glared. “Apologize to Troy.” He turned to Troy before she could get a word out. “I’m so sorry, Troy. That was uncalled for.”
Leanne leaned against him. “Totally uncalled for. My fiancé has done nothing to provoke this attack but be nice.” Her eyes welled.
Terrific. Saint Leanne was upset. But, hey, she’d said “fiancé.” The drinking game commenced once more; Jordan took another sip.
Heck, might as well get it all off my chest. “Sorry, Troy. It’s not your fault my parents are ignoring their kid.” Next to her, Rafi gripped her knee. In support, she hoped, because he hadn’t moved out from under her arm. “You guys did the same thing to me when I was younger. I’m not sure why it’s acceptable in this family to let young people with problems handle it themselves. I got by. I’m still not sure how. But you would have kicked me out if I hadn’t joined the service at eighteen.”
Her mother nodded. “And look where you are now. You’re independent, smart, and living on your own.”
“But Rafi isn’t me. He’s not Leanne—who you paid for to go to school, I might add.”
“She had scholarships too. You weren’t interested in college,” Carl said, sounding defensive.
“I didn’t know what I wanted at eighteen. I only knew I needed a change. Supportive parents would have been nice,” she snapped. “Rafi’s fifteen. He’s having problems in school.”
“He’s turning into a thug.” Carl scowled at Rafi. “Bad grades are one thing. Acting out, cursing at teachers, and skipping school are another.”
Rafi spoke up, his voice cracking. “That teacher called me a stupid moron going nowhere in life. And, come on, stupid and moron is redundant anyway.”
