The Good Brother

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The Good Brother Page 5

by Nia Arthurs


  When he admitted he couldn’t cook, I invited myself over to show them my skills in the kitchen.

  The rest, as they say, is history.

  So yeah, maybe Harry knew about my feelings and chose not to say anything so he didn’t rock the boat, but it was my own fault for keeping my intentions secret and not expressing what I wanted from him.

  Now he’s gone.

  And I’ll never get the chance.

  Chapter Seven

  Ben

  “Do you… need anything else from me?” I ask Lydia as she stands on the porch. Coconut trees bow in the stiff breeze. Birds twitter cheerfully, swooping into the sky and dipping behind fluffy clouds.

  The beauty of this country blows me away.

  “No.” Lydia pulls her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “Just the obvious.”

  I clear my throat to avoid speaking about her assignment to call my dad. It’s stressful enough to soak everything in by myself. Having Dad and Lydia here while I deal with my grief and my decision about Reece will just make everything worse.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You have until tomorrow,” she reminds and then turns to walk down the porch.

  “Before you go…” I let the door close behind me and shuffle closer to her, “I had a question.”

  “About?”

  “Reece’s mother,” I whisper.

  I’m not the most socially sensitive guy, but even I picked up the vibe that Reece’s mother is a sore subject with both Logan and Reece. No one’s mentioned her since I’ve been here. Not once. There’s not even a picture of her anywhere.

  I knew better than to bring it up with the girls, but I’m dying of curiosity. Who did my brother fall for? What was his journey like after realizing he was having a kid?

  I need to hear it.

  Lydia licks her pink lips. Her eyes dart behind my shoulder to fall on the locked door. “I don’t know the details. Harry wasn’t the type who over-shared and I don’t pry.”

  That I’ve seen with my own eyes.

  “Anything will help,” I say.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Burning curiosity? An irrepressible need to check out my brother’s type? “Um… just because.”

  Lydia arches an eyebrow. “Harry said that she died in childbirth, but I don’t have any details.”

  “So you don’t even have a name?”

  “Stella.”

  I blink. “Stella?”

  She nods. “Harry said they met at a gathering for the hospital. He fell for her at first sight and they began a relationship. There was so much sadness in his eyes whenever he mentioned her. It broke his heart when she died.”

  I mull her words over in my mind. Poor Reece. Her mother passed and now her father. She’s all alone in this dark world.

  To make matters worse, the guardian her dad appointed to take care of her wants to skip town and return to his life.

  I’m a scumbag.

  But I still don’t want a kid.

  “Did that answer your question?” Lydia purses her lips.

  I straighten. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Lydia pauses, her watery brown eyes scouring my face. “Your brother had his secrets, but there was one thing he couldn’t hide. At the end you were the one he desperately wanted to see. He loved you very much, Ben.”

  Her words are a sucker punch to the gut. I clear my throat to get a handle on my emotions. “I appreciate you saying that.”

  She smiles softly. “I’ve seen my share of death and tragedy, but the Good Lord always pulls it together for us. You and Reece will be alright.”

  I dip my head in acknowledgement since speech is pretty much impossible for me at the moment.

  Lydia walks down the stairs. I watch her until she gets safely into her car. A wave of gratefulness washes over me. My brother might have been estranged from his blood relatives, but he carved his own little family here in Belize.

  He must have been happy.

  He must have been content.

  He must have been loved—if Logan and Lydia’s behavior is any indication.

  Harry was warm and genuine. Makes sense that he would attract those types of people.

  My phone rings, dispelling the quiet thoughts roaming through my head. I fish my cellphone out of my pocket and spot Carl’s name blaring across the screen. A groan tears through me. I forgot we were supposed to go skiing this weekend.

  I pick up. “Carl, hey.”

  “Ben, what’s going on? Where are you?” Pulsing music blares in the background. It sounds like he’s out on the town. “You were supposed to meet us twenty minutes ago.”

  I rub the bridge of my nose, hoping to alleviate the stress. “Man, I won’t be able to make it.”

  “Why?” Carl lowers his voice. “You with someone?”

  “Yup. Her name is Reece.”

  “Reece?” Carl laughs. “Sounds sexy.”

  I make a face. “Dude, she’s ten. And… she’s my niece.”

  “I’m sorry. What now?”

  “Remember my brother?”

  “The one that ran off to some island after Lauren…” Carl’s voice trails. “Yeah, I remember him.”

  I lean against the wall. “He died.”

  Carl sucks in a breath. “Dude, are you okay?”

  “I’m trying to be.”

  “So that Reece girl… your niece, are you saying that’s Harry’s kid?”

  “Yup.”

  Carl curses. “What are you going to do? Does your father know? Damn, that’ll be awkward if he and Lauren start taking care of her. You’ll have to keep that entire situation a secret until the kid… well, you’ll have to keep it a secret forever.”

  “I know.” I sigh. “The thing is Harry wanted me to take care of her.”

  I hear a door slam and Carl goes silent.

  “You still there?”

  “Yeah, I just went to the bathroom for some quiet.” Carl coughs. “You? Take care of another human being? You can barely take care of yourself.”

  “I resent that.”

  “Let’s be real. If you didn’t have your dad’s money to fall back on you’d be a total loser.”

  I agree with Carl, but hearing such an analysis out loud is humiliating.

  “Thanks, man. Great to know what you really think of me.”

  “Under no circumstances can you take on a kid, Ben. You barely graduated college. Since then you’ve been bouncing around partying and wasting time. It’ll be a disaster.”

  “Are you more concerned for my niece or for me?”

  “For the both of you,” Carl says. “Your social life will fall apart. No women. No parties. You’ll need a babysitter just to leave home without the kid. You’re not in a position to be a stand-in father. And if they guilt you into doing it, you’ll resent Harry’s kid for the rest of your life.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Remember when Corbin had a baby junior year? He dropped us like hot potatoes. I haven’t heard from him in years.”

  “He’s probably busy.”

  “Yeah, with a family.” Carl says the word like it’s a disease. “His Facebook is all about his daughter. It’s horrifying.”

  “You’re being overdramatic.”

  “There’s a reason we’re careful with the women we sleep with. I get that she’s your niece, but why should you be punished when you didn’t do anything wrong? In fact you did everything right so something like this never happened to you.”

  I’ve had the same thoughts, but somehow Carl saying them aloud pisses me off. “That’s enough. She’s still my niece, man.”

  “Sorry. I’m just trying to save you from making a huge mistake.”

  “I should go. Reece is inside by herself.”

  “Let me know if you need anything, Ben. We’re here for you.”

  “Thanks.” I hang up and head back inside. Exhausted, I jump into the couch and turn on a football game. Ten minutes later, I realize the house is too qu
iet and run to the corridor to check on the kid. “Reece? You okay?”

  Silence.

  I step into the kitchen. Nothing.

  The office. Empty.

  “Maybe she’s in her bedroom?” I mumble.

  A quick look around her pink bedroom says she’s not.

  My instincts are warning that I’m in trouble but, in my usual habit of pretending everything is fine even when it isn’t, I ignore it. “Reece?”

  I run to the bathroom. Thrust the door open. My eyes graze every inch of the space. No one.

  “Reece!” I run the entire length of the house, searching desperately behind doors, under beds, over closets and anywhere else a nine-year-old child could possibly hide.

  No Reece. It’s like she disappeared into thin air.

  Or ran away.

  I grab a fistful of my hair and glance around. “Reece!”

  So… I lost my niece. That’s not good.

  I don’t have the first clue where to look for her but, somehow, calling Lydia and admitting that Reece ran away from home feels like defeat. She’s a nine-year-old kid. She couldn’t have gone far.

  I run to the front door and scan the neighborhood. The tall houses in the surrounding lots block my view. The sunlight pounds against the tarmac, filling the air with the scent of concrete. The coconut trees are still, leaves falling limply as the wind dies.

  Even the air feels tense.

  Where the heck is Reece?

  I consider knocking on doors and asking for help. Would Reece hide with the neighbors? Did she have any friends around here?

  Who am I kidding? I know nothing about this kid or about Belize.

  I have to call Lydia.

  My hands shake as I dial her number and listen to it ring. She doesn’t pick up. I dial again, my fingers barely pushing the correct buttons thanks to how bad I’m trembling.

  What if she dies? That’ll be on me.

  “Pick up, Lydia!” I yell.

  Frustrated and restless, I leap off the porch and jog down the sidewalk. I should have gotten Logan’s phone number before she left this morning.

  Stupid. Stupid.

  What was the name of her salon again? She told me earlier, but the phrase completely escapes me now.

  I pass a couple walking their dog. The guy holds the leash loosely, most of his focus on the woman by his side. I sprint in front of them. The dog growls at me. Right now, a dog bite is the least of my concerns so I don’t pay his warning any mind.

  “Excuse me.” I breathe out, winded from running. “Have you seen a little girl about this big—” I point to my chest. “She’s got light brown skin.” I picture Reece in my mind. “Braids, she’s got long braids. Her eyes are grey.”

  “No.” The woman looks at her boyfriend. “Babe, have you seen anything?”

  “I saw Reece earlier. Is she the one you’re looking for?” the boyfriend asks.

  “Reece? Yes! That’s my niece. That’s her.” Overwhelmed with relief, I surge forward and grab his hand.

  The dog barks and leaps at me. His mouth yawns, drool surging from one sharp yellow tooth to the other. His brown coat glints in the sunlight, muscles rippling as his claws extend.

  I scramble to get away and fall on the side of the road. The woman screams while her boyfriend tries to get the mutt back under control.

  “Tango, down!”

  But Tango’s got blood on his mind. My blood.

  The woman reaches a hand out to help me up. “I’m so sorry. He’s very protective. It’s not personal.”

  I lumber to my feet. Dirt falls away from the back of my pants as I brush myself off. “Why do you need a savage guard dog?”

  “Tango’s a sweetheart when he wants to be.” He rubs the dog’s head and then stops. “Wait. Did you say you were Reece’s uncle?”

  “Yes. I’m Harry’s brother.”

  “Really?” The guy arches both eyebrows. “I’m Hilton and this my wife Sara. We didn’t know…”

  “Yeah, yeah. Harry never mentioned me. If you don’t mind, could you point me in the direction Reece went? She’s missing, and I don’t have a clue where to look.”

  “It’s that way.” Hilton points. “Do you need our help?”

  “That would be great.”

  “I’ll call Lydia,” Sara says, whipping out her phone.

  “I already tried that. She’s not picking up.”

  “Then call Logan,” Hilton suggests. “She might know where Reece would run.”

  I shoot Tango a cautious look as I bend over and catch my breath. He’s still staring at me like he’s looking at dinner. Which is slightly disconcerting.

  I straighten.

  Sara puts her phone to her ear and stares into the distance. When the call connects, she brightens. “Logan, have you seen… what?” Sara yells into her phone. “You have her?” Her brown eyes slide to me. “That’s great. We’ll be there soon.”

  “Is she at the shop?” Hilton asks.

  Sara nods. “She just walked in.”

  I collapse to the sidewalk. Reece is safe. Though the way my heart is pounding, I might not live long enough to celebrate that.

  Chapter Eight

  Logan

  “Your uncle’s on his way.” I swing toward Reece. “Why would you leave home like that? Sara said Ben was running all over the neighborhood looking for you. Do you know how worried he must have been?”

  “I’m sorry.” Reece slumps in the purple styling chair, her head bowed.

  “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” I fold my arms over my chest.

  “It’s just…” Reece looks up. Tears glitter in her pretty grey eyes. “I miss my dad.”

  “I understand.” I soften my tone and my glare. “But you could have spoken to Ben about it. He’s family.”

  “He’s a stranger,” Reece snaps.

  “Honey…”

  “I know he’s my uncle.” Reece clutches her chest. “But I didn’t ask for an uncle. I just want my dad to come home.”

  I clamp my lips shut. How can I continue to scold her when she’s hurting more than I could even imagine?

  “Here you go, sweetie.” Tanya offers Reece one of the chocolate candies we keep on the shelf for our young customers. “Cry all you want. Run all you want. As long as you come back home again.”

  “Tanya,” I hiss, “let’s not encourage her to run.”

  “What? She’s gonna do it anyway.”

  I push Tanya aside with my hip. “The important thing is that you’re safe. Just don’t do anything like that again.”

  Reece nods.

  I exchange a look with Tanya. She smiles at me and then ducks her head to get on Reece’s level. “If you’re not too busy, would you mind helping us out around here? For the usual price of course.”

  Reece’s face lights up. “Do you need me to sweep?”

  “And organize the magazines. I mean… if you’re up to it.”

  “I am.” Reece slides out of the styling chair and runs to the bathroom where we keep the broom. A moment later, she reemerges and gets to work.

  The few customers in the salon smile at her. She smiles back. It feels good to watch her mood improve. Tanya might be crazy, but she’s got a knack for connecting with children.

  I turn to my best friend and huff out an angry breath. “What was Ben doing that he didn’t realize she’d slipped out?”

  “Calm down, Logan. He probably didn’t mean to lose her.”

  “But he did.” I rub my temple. “I think you’re right, Tan.”

  “I usually am. But… what exactly am I right about?”

  “I’ll move in with Reece. Just until I’m sure Ben can handle the responsibility of caring for a child.”

  “Good idea. I wonder who came up with it?” She looks up and strokes her chin.

  “You know what I love about you?”

  She glances at me, brown eyes sparkling. “What?”

  “Your humility.”

  Tanya snorts. />
  I glance at my watch and realize it’s time for my client to wash out her dye. I leave Tanya chuckling behind me and walk to the sink.

  After I wash her hair out with our special, organic shampoos and conditioners, I draw Mrs. Wilma to the styling chair and blow-dry her hair. I’m in the middle of flat ironing when the bell above the door chimes.

  I glance up and recognize Sara entering the store. The bell jangles again and Ben storms through. My mind skips to his negligence and a scolding bursts to the edge of my tongue. I open my mouth but stop when I get a good look at him.

  Sweat glistens on Ben’s forehead and darkens his grey T-shirt. His hair is wild around his head like the wind did it’s thing and he didn’t bother putting it back in order. His bright blue eyes zip from one end of the shop to the other.

  His expression reminds me of the one Harry had when we first met. All my irritation disappears at the memory.

  Ben sees Reece and sprints into the salon. He stops just a couple feet from her. When Reece realizes who he is, her mouth drops and her broom slams against the floor. Her face pales. “I-I can explain.”

  Everyone in the salon stops and watches the two of them.

  Ben swallows. The bob of his Adam’s apple is clear as day. His fingers curl into fists. I set my flat iron down and take a step forward, ready to pounce on him if he does anything stupid.

  To my surprise, Ben crumples to his knees. His chin hits his chest. A thick lock of hair tumbles to his forehead. His mouth moves. I can’t hear so I inch closer, drawn by curiosity and something else. Something… different.

  “You’re alright,” I hear him say. “Thank God, you’re alright.”

  Reece looks stunned. She reaches out a hand and touches his shoulder. “Are you… okay?”

  He shakes his head, blows out a breath. Slowly, Ben gets to his feet. He wipes the sweat from his face with his sleeve and then glances around. Our eyes lock. My breath hitches at the mixture of fear and relief swimming in his gaze.

  I can’t look away.

  He approaches me and every step sends my heartbeat skittering. When he’s right in front of me, Ben stops. “Thanks.”

 

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