Love Brewing: The Love Brothers

by Liz Crowe

  Her sister moved out of her line of vision. Hoping, Diana knew, for someone to help pry her out of the car so she could go in that awful place and listen to her church’s new minister make noises about what a wonderful place Lee now inhabited.

  She refused to participate in it. Maybe that would make it all one long, drawn-out nightmare after all.

  Dale showed up with his brother Cal, the man who had the hots for Angelique so bad he’d declared he’d wait for her to come home from school and marry her, at least according to the babbling the girl’s mother had done while she sat with Diana that first night. For some reason, Lindsay Love had been the person she called once the EMTs showed up and loaded Lee’s lifeless body into an ambulance, three days ago.

  Or had that been two days ago?

  A whooshing sound filled her head as mourners filed into the stately brick building with its tall white columns. The same building she and Jen had been in for hours, making arrangements for their parents.

  Lee had touched a lot of people’s lives. She knew that. The outpouring of support and sympathy in the past two days proved it. The place would be packed, standing-room only, since she’d decided against moving the service to the church. The less she had to see that stupid casket getting hauled from place to place the better.

  A small crowd had gathered outside her door. But her vision continued to narrow, so she focused on it, and on the memory of Lee’s soft, patient, ever-rational voice in her ear saying, I love you, Diana. She put her palms on the dashboard. Before she knew it, they hurt because she had balled them into fists and started pounding.

  She couldn’t breathe. Her throat hurt. Someone was screaming like a banshee.

  Oh, right that would be her.

  Her hair escaped its sloppy tie back as she punched the car, beating it in lieu of pounding the crap out of karma, or of Lee, for doing this to her, now, with his baby on the way, bloodying her knuckles in the process.

  A strong breeze from the right sent the straggling ends of her ponytail swirling across her face. Sweat dripped down her sides, ruining whatever outfit Jen had forced her to put on that morning. The morning she buried her husband.

  Her neck creaking with the effort, she turned her head and met the last set of eyes she could have conjured at that moment. Her relief seeing Dominic Love’s face shocked her to her core. She started shaking, her teeth chattering, entire body aching. Dom put a hand on her knee. She looked down at it, then up at his eyes.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” She could barely recognize her own voice.

  “Time to go in now, Diana.”

  She grimaced at him. “Fuck you.”

  He smiled, and pulled her out of the car. She held onto him all the way into the building and through the service, soaking his shirt, his tie, his neck. But he stroked her hair, murmured to her, and did not let her go.

  One month later

  “Why do I have to wear this, Daddy?” Jace tugged at the tie. “Where are we?”

  “I told you not to do that.” Dom refastened the clip at the boy’s neck, marveling that his mother had been able to find a suit that fit the kid perfectly out the few bits she’d saved from her own boys’ wardrobes. He led Jace around a small, picturesque church about halfway between Lexington and Louisville.

  The boy’s other arm still rested in a sling, the now-smaller cast covering it from above the elbow to his fingers, the blue-wrapped plaster awash in signatures from his cousins and friends at the school he’d been attending here, under extreme protest.

  Dom found the headstone, and spread a quilt out over the grass beside it. “Come on, Jace. Grammie packed us a picnic.”

  The boy shot him a skeptical raised eyebrow, until he spotted the peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich on his grandmother’s homemade bread. He plopped down, still yanking at his collar. “Why are we in our church clothes on a Saturday for a picnic?” He glared at his father. “I wanna go to Frankie’s house.”

  “After this, I promise.” Dom opened a bottle of the whiskey he’d found in the dark storage space under the old brewery with his father’s mandated Dom’s Cut label, then pulled a juice box from the cooler and stuck the straw in it. “Do you remember Kent?”

  Jace brightened. “Is he here? Grammie told me he’d gone to heaven and I shouldn’t ask you about him because it would make you sad.”

  Dom regarded his son a moment, noting he still had a long way to go to grow into his feet and wondering what sort of a young man he’d become—better than he himself had been, that much Dom had firmly determined. They’d moved home, after he’d agreed not to press charges against Chris as long as Erasmus fired her. The two weeks he spent at Diana’s side after Lee’s funeral had nearly done him in, but had also, somehow, strengthened him in a way he didn’t expect. At one point, she’d paused in her near-constant, silent perusal of her backyard and said to him, “You owe it to yourself to be a good daddy. He’s the only shot you might get at it.”

  He’d raised his mug of coffee to her, and a decision formed itself then—no more running and hiding. He would come home for good and resume his place at Love Brewing alongside his father, like he’d wanted to since he’d been as small as Jace. It would not be easy, working his way back into he man’s good graces, but he wanted it and had determined at that moment to make it so.

  “No, Jace. He’s not here. And it does make me sad to think about him. He brought you to me and I’ll never be able to thank him or do anything as great for him. That also makes me sad.”

  “Let’s cheers him, Daddy.” Jace held up his juice box. “He was a nice man. I liked him.”

  “I loved him,” Dom stated, clear-eyed as he touched the Dom’s Cut bottle to the juice. “I wish I’d known how much a lot sooner. He’d still be here, probably, maybe, who knows.” Dom took a sip and decided not to go down that road of possibility, which would likely have caused even more upheaval.

  Jace sipped and regarded Dom with those scary brown eyes—the same ones that met his own gaze every morning in the mirror. “You’re sad, like Miss Diana.” He took a huge bite out of his sandwich. “I heard Aunt Cara talking to Grammie about her. She thinks y’all should just get over yourselves and get married.”

  Dom froze with the whiskey bottle halfway to his lips. Damn women and their gossip. He’d have to remind them that the Love house was now full of little pitchers with big ears, and big mouths to match. He touched a tender spot on his skull where Diana had nearly brained him with a cast iron pan just three days ago in one of her near-hysterical fits of rage.

  “Can Miss Diana be my mommy? I never had one.” Jace jumped up to chase a butterfly that had landed between them then fluttered away.

  Dom let him blow off steam for a minute. “Come over here, boy.”

  Jace trotted to him, obediently for now, as long as the potential for his Grammie’s brownies still remained tucked inside the picnic cooler. Dom held out his arms and his son settled into his lap, his legs hooked over Dom’s. “Miss Diana and I aren’t getting married. We’re just friends. Good friends, for a long time now.” Jace lunged over to get the rest of his sandwich and tucked under Dom’s chin, chewing and, Dom knew, carefully considering his response to that.

  “You aren’t allowed to marry your friends?” He started licking the jelly off his fingers. “That’s sad. My new friend in Sunday School, her name is Lisa, she’s really nice and pretty, and she smells like cookies. I want to marry her. But I can’t. Because she’s my friend.”

  Dom kissed his son’s hair and laughed. “You are gonna come up against all manner of nice, cookie-smelling girls in your life, don’t worry. And as for marrying your friends, well….”

  “Did you want to marry Kent? He was your friend.”

  Dom flushed hot. “No. Not because he was my friend, but because…never mind.”

  “Granddaddy and Grammie were talking the other night in the kitchen about it.”

  Dom frowned, terrified that he would be having the men can’t marry me
n…but conversation this early in Jace’s life thanks to his own loud-mouthed, homophobic father. “Oh?” He attempted to stay casual.

  “Yeah, Granddaddy was real mad and Grammie told him that the Lord says nothing about who’s ’posed to love one another and that he should shut up and get over it. They hollered for a while, then they hugged and were kissin’ and stuff, so I quit paying attention to ‘em.”

  Dom wiped his lips and tried not to let on how rattled he was. “Yeah, that sounds about right for them. Sorry, dude.”

  “Can we go to Frankie’s now?” Jace leapt up again, his attention to things like friends and getting married all used up. “He has a new hoop and I want to teach him how to free throw.”

  “Sure. I’m gonna drop you there with your backpack so you can change clothes. I have to go meet some builder people at the brewery.”

  “Can I start working with you at the brewery, like you promised?” Jace ran ahead at full speed, his hair flopping and reminding Dom that they both could use some quality time in the barber’s chair. He’d been working on getting bids done for the brewery expansion for the last couple of weeks and had one more subcontractor to meet before he presented the options to his parents. He’d proposed to triple their capacity and add a full-scale distillery. Scary expensive, but he had the sales projections to support it.

  “Soon, I promise.” He tossed the cooler into the bed of the pickup he’d bought, trading in his beloved Harley in a fit of responsibility. Skywalker barked at them from his appointed post guarding the truck bed half-full of busted draft boxes and random brewery equipment Dom had bought at an auction in Louisville the week before. Dom scratched the mutt under its chin. “Buckle up, boy.”

  “Yes sir.” Jace tugged the politically correct harness contraption down over his shoulders. As he started to climb in, Dom noticed a minivan screeching down the road, going way too fast. “Come on, Daddy. I wanna go play with Frankie.”

  “Hush a minute.” Dom shaded his eyes as the van got closer to the empty church parking lot. It pulled in, nearly going up on two wheels, cartoon-like, before lurching to a halt.

  Diana’s sister Jen stuck her head out the driver’s-side window. “Let’s go.”

  Dom blinked, confused. “Go…where?”

  “To the hospital, dumbass. Diana’s already there and I swore to her I’d come find you.”

  He stepped away, his brain fogging over with anxiety. “Find me for what?”

  She smacked the driver’s side door. “Are you that stupid? The baby. Diana is screaming for you.”

  “Oh no…no, no, nope, no way, no how, uh uh.” He gripped the truck’s open door.

  “Dom, you have to do this for her. She’s freaking out and not cooperating with the doctors. The baby…it’s not going well. Just get in your truck and follow me.”

  “I don’t do hospitals, or anything that involves…placentas.” His stomach flipped over, sending the two sips of whiskey he’d imbibed churning around in his gut.

  “What’s placenta?” Jace piped up, intrigued. “Hi, Miss Jen.” He waved, having unlatched so he could sit in the open truck window.

  “Hey, sweetie. Listen, your Daddy has to come with me for a bit. He’s going to the hospital with me to help Miss Diana get her baby out.”

  Jace’s face blanched, likely matching Dom’s own. “Her baby is coming…out?” He gulped. He turned to his father. “From where?”

  “Never mind. Sit yourself down. We gotta go.” He set his jaw, gripped the wheel and drove eighty-plus miles an hour on the familiar country roads to the small suburban hospital, got out, and attempted not to hurl. Jace grabbed his arm.

  “Come on, Daddy. Miss Diana needs you. You got some pliers to help get her baby out, right?”

  Dom took a breath. “No, but the doctors have some. I’ll call Uncle Kieran and have him come get you.” Dom left Jace with Dale in the waiting room, got gowned up in silence, then followed Jen down the hall. He could hear Diana yelling at someone three doors away.

  Jen grabbed his arm and shoved him forward. “Go in there and help her, goddamn you, or I will kick your ass from here to Sunday.”

  He froze, hands on either side of the door.

  Jen punched his arm so hard he jumped. “Come on, ass wipe. You owe her so much, you’d have to deliver five of her kids yourself to make it right. Jesus.”

  He nodded, squared his shoulders, and walked into the room. “Diana,” he barked out, trying to ignore all the horror. “Don’t be such a butthead. I’m here. Now let’s do this thing. I’ve got better stuff to do than …. Oh…my…God.” He couldn’t hold back a groan when he saw something red dripping onto the hospital floor, even as he took in the scrum of people gathered between Diana’s legs. “Oh…ah….” He gripped the wall and focused hard on not passing out but sensing himself fading fast.

  “Get over here,” a nurse barked at him. “Talk to her or something. Calm her down. Stay up there at her head and you won’t even know what’s happening down here.”

  He nodded, gulped, and walked slowly in her general direction, still hoping this could be a nightmare.

  “Fuck you,” Diana spat out, her sweaty hair hanging over her face, her teeth clenched, looking for all the world like she’d been possessed by a demon from hell.

  “Now that’s more like it.” He headed for the area of Diana well above the wall of blue paper at her waist. “Come on, kid, let’s get that girl outta there.”

  Three hours later he sat by her bed while Diana slept, revved up beyond belief, his mind awash with the miracle he’d just observed. When a nurse brought the baby into the room, he picked her up out of the tiny rolling bed without even hesitating, meeting her dark blue gaze and falling head-over-heels in love in an instant.

  “Hey,” Diana croaked out.

  Dom smiled at her but held on to the infant.

  Diana frowned at him. “Give me my kid,” she demanded, her voice breathy. “Just because you played at that whole helping-me thing doesn’t mean you—”

  “Marry me,” Dom interrupted her as he handed the baby over.

  “Are you drunk? Never mind, don’t answer that.” She spent a few seconds kissing the baby’s nose, cheeks and forehead. “I’m never marring anyone ever again. And even if I did, Dominic Love would be the last man on a long fucking list.”

  “Don’t curse,” he said with a huge smile, weathering her drop-dead-asshole stare. Figuring he’d earned it, and her comment, he took a seat next to the bed, content for the moment just to watch Diana with her baby and formulating his new life’s goal in his mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ten Years Later, Christmas Day

  Dominic got out of the truck and noted the few inches of snow had brought the Love family spawn out in force. He spotted the haphazard snowman against the pole barn about the same time a snowball missed him by mere inches.

  “Hey,” he hollered, scooping up some and heaving it in the direction of the kids who were running away and laughing.

  Loud rap music heralded the arrival of his son. Dom watched as Jace’s car pulled up in front of the house and the boy unfolded his tall frame from behind the wheel of his junker sub-compact. Jace ran fingers through his too-long hair and adjusted his tie, checked his phone then stuck it in his pocket.

  “You’re late,” Dom called out, arms crossed. “Did you bring it?”

  “Of course.” The young man grinned from ear to ear. “Sorry. Helen’s mama kept us over dessert a while.” He patted his stomach. Dom raised an eyebrow, his eyes going straight to the distinct bruised spot on the boy’s neck.

  “Yeah, and those are some kinda wrenching goodbyes. Hell, boy you’re gonna see her again in just a few hours.” He smacked his son behind the head. “She suck your brains out that neck hole?” The boy yelped and blushed. “Cover it up before your grammie sees it.”

  “I love her.” Jace’s expression went instantly moony in a way that made Dom want to shove the damn kid face down into the snow. Jace
fell hard in love with every girl he ever took out on a date. But this particular girl had her hooks in him good, thanks to how much she let him in her panties, Dom figured.

  “Using the condoms, right?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jace frowned. “You ready?”

  “Yep.” Dom unfastened one of his shirt buttons, revealing the top of a red t-shirt. “I’m ready.”

  “Granddaddy’s gonna shit a brick.” Jace hesitated and ran a hand around the back of his neck, a nervous tick they shared.

  Dom laughed and slapped his son’s back. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first one. Come on, let’s go tell everybody the good news.”

  They tossed a few snowballs at the smaller kids then walked in the front door and into the upper family room. Anton sat, holding AliceLynn’s little girl in his lap and petting one of the many cats Lindsay had rescued. Now that she volunteered once a week doing paperwork for the Humane Society, she had a new mangy animal in here every week.

  “Hey, come on in here a second,” Dom called into the kitchen and then again down the steps. The Love family gathered, the women bringing more dishes to the table, the teenagers scowling at being interrupted from their video games, his brothers in various stages of fatherhood and now, in the case of Antony, grandfather-hood.

  “We have an announcement to make.” Dom smiled at Jace. “One, two, three.” They ripped open their dress shirts to reveal matching Louisville Cardinal basketball Tshirts.

  The room got so quiet Dom heard the ice melting in the bucket over on the bar. Anton rose slowly to his feet.

  “What in the hell?”

  Kieran burst out laughing and gave Jace a hug. The rest of the family crowded between them. But his grandfather stayed stock still.

  “You come into my house, wearing that blasphemous color?” Anton glared at Dom. “This is a Kentucky Wildcats house, boys.”

  Jace laughed and draped an arm around his grandfather’s shoulders. At six-foot-six and a half, the kid towered over the whole room with the exception of his Uncle Kieran a former NCAA division 1 player himself. “You can be for the ‘Cats, Granddaddy. As long as they aren’t playing the ‘Ville! Can I get a C-A-R-D-S?”