The Good Brother

by Nia Arthurs

“That was a compliment.”

  “What if I called you cute? Would you like that?”

  “I would.” He leans closer. “Very much.”

  I freeze, realizing how close his lips are to mine. My gaze dips to his mouth. Awareness creeps through me.

  Wake up, Logan. Don’t do anything stupid.

  The door bangs open. “Logan, do I have to read for forty-five minutes? I just want to…” Reece steps into the room and promptly spins on her heels. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t know I was interrupting.”

  I shove Ben away. He lands on the bed with an oof. “Reece! Come in! You’re not interrupting anything.”

  “It’s okay.” She dashes down the hallway and slams her door shut.

  I wince.

  Just great.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ben

  “How the heck do you read this thing?” I mumble, struggling to turn the pages of the newspaper. The silky sheets defy my instructions and slip out of my fingers. They splatter to the floor, falling out of order.

  The birds perched on the coconut trees twitter in laughter. I shoot them a glare. Not that it does anything to keep them quiet. I grab a handful of the newspapers and scramble to find the section that I need.

  A dog barks, disturbing my concentration. When I glance up, I find Sara and Hilton walking my way. Tango sniffs the coconut tree in the yard and raises his hind leg to pee on it.

  Classy.

  “Hey, Ben!” Sara waves.

  I roll the newspaper up as best as I can and cautiously approach them. Tango gives me a side-eye, but he’s not in killer-mode so I walk confidently toward the couple. “Hey, guys.”

  “How is everything?” Sara shuffles her feet, causing her blue dress to sway around her thighs. “We keep seeing two strangers going in and out of your house. Are they your parents?”

  I nod. “My father and his wife are here.” I kick a small stone on the sidewalk. It skitters into the street. “Why didn’t you two come over instead of spying from afar?”

  Sara gives Hilton a dour look. “I told you he wouldn’t mind if we came without invitation.”

  “We didn’t want to interfere,” Hilton explains.

  “Nah, it’s all good. Logan and Reece would love to have you.”

  “Logan?” Sara’s eyebrows hike.

  “Yeah. Didn’t you know she was living with us?”

  Hilton’s jaw falls. “I… had no idea. For how long?”

  “Since before Harry’s funeral.”

  Sara’s plump lips curve up in a smile. “I see.”

  “It’s not like that.” I rub the back of my neck, feeling sheepish even though I haven’t done anything wrong. “I sleep in Harry’s room and she takes the guest room.”

  “I wasn’t judging.”

  “Right.” I change the subject. “So… what exactly do you guys do?” I check my watch. “It’s the middle of the day and you have time to walk your dog?”

  “We own a business.” Hilton digs into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a wallet. His dark fingers thumb through the cards until he settles on one and hands it over. “We’re in graphic designing. T-shirts, bags, mugs, stationary—you name it, we’ll print on it.”

  “That’s cool.” I admire the cartoon on the corner of his card. “Here I was reading the help wanted section of the newspaper when I could have just walked down the street. You guys don’t happen to need a designer, do you?” I finish the question off with a chuckle, but both Sara and Hilton remain serious.

  Sara steps toward me, hope rising in her dark brown eyes. “Do you know how to draw?”

  “Uh, I’m not a professional or anything, but I can do that.” I point to the character on the card.

  “Can you use a computer too?”

  “To draw?” I scratch my chin. “I’ve dabbled in art software, but I’m much better on paper than with computer animation.”

  “Baby,” Sara whispers to her husband, “this might be an answer to prayer.”

  Hilton grins broadly, his white teeth clashing against his dark skin. The sun shoots a beam of sunshine directly behind his head, casting his face in shadows. Still, I can feel the excitement pouring out of him.

  “Ben, do you have a portfolio? Can we see some of your art?”

  I lead them inside and show them my sketchbook. Sara and Hilton sit close together and flip through the pages. My heart races. I can’t watch them while they judge my work so I slip into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.

  I’ve had that sketchbook since high school. When I wasn’t out with my friends or chasing girls, I had my head ducked behind my book. Drawing was a high that came without the pesky side effects of a hangover and a wild night I didn’t remember.

  When I’ve quenched my thirst and mopped the sweat from my forehead, I pour two glasses for Sara and Hilton and return to the living room.

  Sara accepts her cup with a smile. “Ben, I love your style. It’s so fun. So unique. What’s your inspiration?”

  “Mainly Japanese animation. Harry used to watch those cartoons every Saturday morning.” I smile at the memory. “I was always following him around. Somehow, I fell in love with them too.”

  “That’s so sweet.” Sara dabs at the corner of her eye.

  “I love it.” Hilton sets my sketchbook on the table. He folds his hands together and studies me. “Sara and I are a tiny company in Belize for now, but we’ve got dreams of expanding into online distribution and maybe, one day, having franchises all over the world.”

  “That’s awesome, man.”

  Hilton bobs his head. “We had a manager overseeing the designing aspect of our online launch, but he was not reliable.”

  “Stop it, Hilton.” Sara purses her lips. “He had a better offer from a bigger company. You can’t begrudge him for going to a more established label.” She smiles softly at me. “Our business is small and sometimes we barely make enough to keep our doors open. He had every right to leave.”

  Hilton scoots to the very edge of the sofa. “I know you have a family to think about and the pay might not be the best at first, but if you take a chance on us, I promise, we’ll grow this business together.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” I clasp my hands. “Drawing was always just a hobby. I majored in business.”

  “Perfect! You’re hired!”

  Sara tugs on Hilton’s belt loop to force him back into the couch. “Sorry. My husband gets very passionate about this. Why don’t you talk it over with Logan? We’ll send you the contract we had with our previous designer. It outlines the hours, particulars about the job, and the pay.”

  “Yeah.” I shoot my hand out for Hilton to shake. “Thank you so much.”

  “No. Thank you. I thought we would have to push back our launch date to find someone else. And look at that. You were here all along.” Hilton sets his other hand over mine.

  Sara pries his fingers away. “Alright, honey. You’re scaring him.” She drags her husband to the door. “Call us if you have any questions, Ben.”

  “I look forward to working with you!” Hilton yells as Sara yanks him out.

  I follow them to the porch and watch as Sara and Hilton untie Tango from the coconut tree in our yard. The dog barks happily as they lead him down the street.

  When they’re nothing but blips in the distance, I return to the living room and sink against the couch. There’s a part of me that’s still in denial. I’d prepared myself to work in a cubicle here in Belize. Instead, an opportunity to do what I love just fell into my lap.

  My fingers dive into my pockets. I pull my phone out and dial Logan’s number. It rings once. Twice. I hang up, realizing she might be in the middle of doing someone’s hair.

  Too keyed up to stay still, I pace the house. The fact that Hilton and Sara liked my drawings was mind-blowing enough. The fact that they’d pay me to design… it doesn’t feel real. Doesn’t feel like I deserve it.

  Would I have had the courage to follow my own dreams if Harry
hadn’t died?

  Before that thought can suck the joy out of my day, my phone vibrates. It’s Logan.

  “Hey,” she says, her voice soft, “I got your missed call. Is everything okay?”

  I frown. “Is this a bad time?”

  “I just finished with a client so I’m taking a break.” She pauses. “Is Reece alright?”

  “She went with my dad and Lauren to the museum.”

  “By herself?”

  I ignore the scolding in her tone. “Did you know Sara and Hilton were designers?”

  “No. I thought they just printed T-shirts and stuff.”

  I explain the conversation and their job offer. “So… I’ll look over the contract. If it’s solid enough to take care of my bills, I’ll do it.”

  “That’s awesome, Ben!” Logan shrieks. “We’ve got to celebrate.”

  “Logan! We’ve got a wash and dye, here!” Tanya’s voice rings in the background.

  “I need to go,” Logan whispers. “I’ll take you and Reece out tonight. My treat. See you later.” She hangs up.

  I grin and tap the phone in the palm of my hand. The prospect of Logan coming home early excites me. I can’t wait to see her.

  A few minutes later, I get an email from Sara. It’s the contract. I open the document and skim over the terms. The tasks are straightforward. Although I’ll be the main designer, both Hilton and Sara have the final say.

  Not that I expected anything different.

  They’ve put me in charge of marketing my designs too. Which is right up my alley since I spent four years slogging through those classes. At least they’ll be put to good use.

  A sudden knock on the door grabs my attention. I leave my phone in the chair and open up for my dad, Lauren and Reece. My niece crashes into the living room, her mouth moving at a million miles per hour.

  “You should have seen it, Uncle Ben!” Her grey eyes shine like lasers. “The museum had this incredible butterfly room. And the mahogany room. And the room with the Mayas. And—”

  “Alright, kiddo.” I ruffle her hair. “Sounds like you had a blast.”

  “Belize has such a rich cultural history,” Dad says.

  Lauren slips out of her heels. “My feet are throbbing. I don’t know what those two found so fascinating.”

  “Are you kidding?” Reece gawks. “That was incredible.”

  “If you say so…” Lauren limps to the sofa.

  “Grampa,” Reece bats her eyelashes, “can I have your phone? I want to see all the pictures you took.”

  Dad digs into his pockets and hands his phone over. “Here you go, darling.”

  “Thanks!” Reece’s hair flails behind her as she gallops to her room.

  Dad turns to me. “There’s so much of Harry in that kid. It’s unbelievable.”

  “Yeah.” I shuffle my feet. Dad’s mellowed a lot since he flew here for Harry’s funeral, but I’m still uneasy around him. Especially now that I’ve decided to stay in Belize. “Are you enjoying your vacation?”

  “I am.” Dad runs a hand through his thick brown hair.

  “When are you going back?”

  “Why?” He grins. “You eager to leave? See your friends?”

  I blink. “My friends?”

  I haven’t thought about Carl or the others once since I started taking my guardianship of Reece seriously. The drinking, the parties, the women… feels like a world away. Reece and Logan are the only women I need.

  “Or is there a girl I don’t know about?” Dad arches an eyebrow.

  “No. No girl.” I shake my head. “I was just making conversation.”

  Dad walks nearer. “Well, since we’re already on the topic, Lauren and I were thinking you and Reece could move in with us when we get back home.”

  “Dad…” I groan.

  “Listen first, son. I know you’ve been running from the hospital job because you think that’s what I expect. But we can find a job anywhere. Plenty of businesses need your skills. I can make a few calls and—”

  “Dad.” I glance up. Steel myself for my confession. “The truth is I…”

  “He already has a job,” Lauren says. I whirl around to face her. She charges over to us, her face tight. “Read this, honey.” She tosses my cellphone to Dad.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a contract,” Lauren says, shooting me an accusing look.

  Dad’s gaze zips from the phone’s screen to me. Instead of anger, he looks horrified. “Ben?”

  I speak honestly. “Belize is Reece’s home. Her friends are here. Her memories of her father, the people who raised her—they’re all here. I don’t want to rip her away from that.”

  Lauren folds her arms over her chest. “She’s a kid. She’ll adjust.”

  I stare Dad straight in the eyes. “I’ve made my decision. Reece and I… we stay.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Logan

  The bell jangles like a flock of angry birds as someone crashes through the door. Our clients crane their neck to see what the commotion is about. I’ve got my hands deep in someone’s hair. Since we’re behind the partition that hides the sink I can’t see who entered.

  We’ve got the television on and turned to the game show channel. It’s hard to hear what Tanya is saying, but when the customer who barged in replies to her, I stiffen.

  I recognize that voice.

  “Yvonne,” I beckon with my fingers, “can you finish washing out the dye and flat iron?”

  She bobs her head and rushes to change places with me. I grab a clean towel and dry my hands as I stride forward. My instincts prove correct when I spot Lauren Duncan standing in the middle of my salon.

  Her voluminous red hair tumbles over one shoulder. She’s dressed in a tight white T-shirt and skinny jeans. When she turns around and locks eyes with me, I note the fierce expression on her face.

  What did I do?

  Lauren storms over, her heels clopping against the tiled floor. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  I see Tanya bristle and round the counter. Both her thin eyebrows are hiked and her nose is scrunched like she smelled something foul. “Excuse me?”

  “Stop.” I hold my hand out to my best friend before she starts a fight in front of our customers. “It’s fine.”

  “Logan, you know this girl?” Tanya demands.

  “I do.” I grab Lauren’s hand and say in a low voice, “Let’s talk somewhere private.”

  She yanks her hand from mine but nods. “Fine.”

  I lead her to the office and lock the door behind me. Lauren picks her way through the boxes on the floor like they’re explosives. She leans against my desk and pins me with a hard stare. “You know, you have a lot of nerve, Logan.”

  I brush my hands against the back of my jeans. “What are you talking about?”

  “How did you do it?” She laughs humorlessly. “How did you convince Ben to stay in this backwater, third world country?”

  I stiffen. “Look, Lauren. I’m trying to be patient because it’s clear you’re upset, but don’t insult my country or my people.”

  She sneers. “Are you sleeping with him?”

  My jaw drops. “What?”

  “Ben’s always been a sucker for a big pair of tits.” Lauren’s pointed gaze at my chest makes me wrap my arms over them. She scoffs. “Since that can’t be the case with you, I’m assuming you tried your best to make yourself available in other ways.”

  “How dare you.” I stalk toward her. She visibly shrinks, but I don’t care. “I did not have sex with Ben. I have no interest in influencing his decision about Belize at all. Ben chose to stay. Maybe it’s hard for you to accept since your husband is so used to controlling him, but that’s the truth.”

  “So he never discussed it with you?”

  “I was prepared to say goodbye to them both. When Ben told me what he wanted, I was shocked. Just like you.”

  Lauren shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t make sense. He has no reason to stay.
Everything he could ever need, ever want is with us.”

  “Have you thought that maybe he wants to do it on his own? Without his dad breathing down his neck?”

  “You don’t understand.” Lauren huffs. “Ben is the most immature man I’ve ever met. He has no sense of responsibility. No conviction. No purpose.”

  “Or maybe he wasn’t given an opportunity to find his purpose.”

  “No.” She points a crooked finger. “It had to be you.”

  “So what? If it was because of me, you would have threatened me until I changed Ben’s mind? Or maybe you would have offered to pay my store’s mortgage off again?”

  Lauren licks red-stained lips. “This isn’t a game to me, Logan. Reece is an innocent child. Harry’s child. I can’t afford to leave her with someone I don’t trust.”

  “Are you referring to me or to Ben?”

  She looks away, saying nothing.

  “Lauren, I know you care about Reece. And it’s clear your husband’s fallen in love with her too. But Belize is only a short flight from the States. We’re not going to take her and run. We’re—Ben’s going to do his best to raise and provide for her, and we have a host of friends who’ll help him out if he needs it.”

  She shifts her weight from one leg to the other. “So… nothing really happened between you two?”

  “Me and Ben? No. And it won’t either.” The words are bitter as they fly out of my mouth. Quickly, I add. “I mean… never say never, but—”

  “Not Ben. Harry.”

  I study her face. She ducks her head so I can’t see her eyes, but I can tell her very being is hanging on my answer.

  Should I lie to her? Exact my revenge and paint a picture of a relationship that never existed? Or tell her the truth and let her heart rest easy?

  “Harry and I were soul mates.”

  Her breath hitches audibly. “W-what does that mean?”

  “It means… he completed me. And I comforted him. We filled in each other’s cracks in a way that no one else could. Whatever he was made of in here—” I point to my heart—“I was made of the same.”

  Her eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Does that mean you dated?”