by Cora Brent
Maybe he felt the weight of my stare because he looked up and a flash of worry crossed his face. He was probably used to being booted out of places for loitering. He needn’t worry, not about me anyway. I would never deprive a man of a comfortable spot to sit and read. I gave him a short nod of recognition and then kept walking.
The instant I pushed my way through the glass exit doors I felt the heat on my skin. The only thing that might be more punishing than summer in Phoenix would be summer in the outlying desert where there was never enough shade, never enough water. I knew all about it. So would anyone who had ever spent a July afternoon in Emblem.
“If Hell has a back pocket then that place would be Emblem.”
I’d read that line years ago. It was printed in a school history book, a direct quote from some unhappy eastern woman who’d followed her merchant husband out west to the territorial capitol over a hundred years earlier. If she were still around to take a look at the den of Benton Gentry then she’d probably think to herself that the words still applied.
As I made my way to the parking lot I looked at the city skyline and picked out the high rise where Stephanie worked. Briefly I weighed the idea of dropping in there spontaneously. I could sweep her into my arms and carry her out the door like that old Richard Gere movie.
But then I remembered how she’d rubbed her eyes this morning and mentioned the busy day ahead. She probably didn’t want to be carried out the door while wearing my hat like the couple in the movie. That was probably just as well. Especially because I wasn’t even wearing a fucking hat.
Traffic was still light on the freeway that meandered east of Phoenix. In another few hours the whole metro area would be heading home in anticipation of the long weekend. I wasn’t excited about sitting alone in my apartment all afternoon so I thought about alternatives. Cord would be working down at the shop but he had his hands full with Deck gone and probably wasn’t available to shoot the shit. As for Creed, he tended to spend his afternoons at the gym or hugging his guitar so I didn’t really want to bother him.
But there was one door I could always knock on and count on a happy greeting. Fifteen minutes later I stood there and gave a series of short raps on the thick wood. A wrought iron cursive G hung right in the center. When a shadow darkened the peephole I waved.
“Chase!” Saylor opened the door wide and held out her arms. I returned the hug. Saylor McCann Gentry was more than my brother’s wife. She was my friend, one of the best friends I would ever have.
“Uncle Chase! Uncle Chase!”
Two squealing tornadoes – one blonde, one brunette – came barreling down the hall and collided with my legs. I hoisted each of the girls up in one arm and felt their arms curl around my neck.
“Ah, my two favorite nieces. You girls giving hell to your old Mom and Dad?”
“That’s a bad word,” Cami scolded with a frown.
“Your face hurts,” complained Cassie as she touched my cheek.
I swung them down to the floor. “Sorry, sweets. Uncle Chase forgot to shave today.”
Cassie nodded forgivingly. “That’s okay.”
Cami pulled at my arm. “Come see my room.”
Cassie pulled at my other arm. “Yeah, come on!”
“Hold on girls,” laughed Saylor. “Let Uncle Chase get through the door.”
Cami peered around me. “He is through the door.”
“I am through the door,” I agreed and winked at the girls, allowing them to propel me down the hall to the bedroom which looked like the belly of a cotton candy machine. Once I got there all kinds of orders followed.
“Sit here, Uncle Chase.”
“No, sit here, Uncle Chase!”
“Hold Miss Happy, Uncle Chase.”
“You need a magic wand, Uncle Chase.”
“Uncle Chase, you’re holding Miss Happy too hard.”
Saylor stood in the doorway and cleared her throat. “Let me know when you need a break, Uncle Chase.”
The girls unleashed a torrent of exuberant chatter and proceeded to show me every single object in their bedroom. They had my complete attention and were so damn cute it killed me. I loved them like crazy. The first time I saw them in Saylor’s hospital room, hours after they were born, the sight of them was so surreal. Here were these precious little girls, brand new people where there hadn’t been people before. Such a basic concept and yet so astonishing.
I carefully set Cassie’s stuffed hedgehog down and leaned forward. “Hey girls, I’ve got to go talk to your Mom for a few minutes, okay?”
Cami pouted slightly. “Don’t leave.”
I stood up and patted their heads. “I’ll be back. I promise.”
Saylor was in the kitchen, frowning over a stack of paper with a ballpoint pen hanging out of her mouth.
“Editing,” she explained, dropping the pen. “I’m supposed to release the damn book in two weeks and it just seems like something’s not hanging together.”
I sank into a chair. “You want a second opinion?”
She instantly looked hopeful. “If you’re sure you have time.” I’d edited several of her books before. She was a talented writer.
“I have time. Email me the rough draft.”
Saylor smiled and then started filling a cast iron kettle with water. “I’m on a hot tea kick lately. You want some?”
“Hot tea? It’s about a hundred and thirty seven degrees outside, Say.”
“Well, we’re not outside.”
“Good point. Sure, I’ll take a cup.”
Saylor set the kettle on the stove and turned the dial. She spooned something that looked like shriveled raspberries mixed with dried grass into a container, set out a pair of green ceramic mugs and then joined me at the table.
“So,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice, “what’s eating at you, little brother?”
I felt a smile cross my face. The boys had always cheerfully teased me about the fact that I was the last one to be pulled from our mother’s belly the night we were born. Junior. Little brother. Words always said with affection. I liked hearing them from her.
“Nothing that can’t be cured by a few days of sitting by the pool eating hamburgers and watching fireworks.”
Saylor wasn’t fooled by my easy tone. She drummed her fingers on the table and raised her eyebrows. “How is Steph?” she asked pointedly.
“Pregnant.”
Her mouth fell open. “What? Cord didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t tell Cord.”
She gave me a puzzled look. “I don’t understand.”
“Well Saylor, when a man and woman get together in a private way-“
“Chase.” She narrowed her eyes. “Seriously.”
“I am being serious. When a man and woman get together a beautiful thing happens which can result in the creation of a brand new life-“
“Knock it off.” Saylor balled up a nearby napkin and threw it at me.
“Okay, but if you ever require further elaboration, remember I do have my full teaching credentials from the state of Arizona.”
“If I remember correctly, those credentials entitle you to teach history.”
“And if people didn’t keep procreating then there wouldn’t be any history to discuss, now would there?”
Saylor suddenly beamed at me, laughing. “This is exciting! I can’t believe it!”
“You thought Cordero was the only Gentry brother who possessed sperm? I’m insulted.”
“Enough with the creative quips there, junior. I just didn’t realize you guys were looking to join us in the minivan set.”
When I stayed silent Saylor bit her lip and cocked her head to the side.
“Oh,” she said quietly. “It was a surprise then, huh?”
“Just a tiny electric lightening bolt to my central nervous system,” I admitted. “Shouldn’t have been. We weren’t careful and I do know where babies come from. Yet somehow the news managed to shock me.”
“Hmm, I know the
feeling,” said Saylor with a jerk of her head. Girlish squealing erupted down the hall. “What’s going on in there?” she called.
“Nothing!” answered two sweet voices.
“Precocious little things,” I observed.
“That they are.”
“Take after their devoted uncle.”
“That they do.”
The tea kettle began whistling. Saylor jumped up and carefully poured the hot water into the container she’d deposited the fragrant leaves into before she sat down.
“Just needs to steep for a few minutes,” she explained, returning to the table. “So?” she prodded, nudging me with an elbow.
“What?”
“Are you happy about the baby? Isn’t Stephanie? Are you guys getting married? Are you still going to move into that apartment in Phoenix?”
“I don’t know.”
Saylor leaned back and appraised me for a long, silent moment. “What don’t you know, Chase?”
“Of course I want the baby. Of course I want to marry Stephanie.”
She smiled. “You don’t sound uncertain.”
“I’m not. She might be.”
Saylor lost her smile. “No. She said that?”
“Not exactly. She told me she was pregnant. I blurted out a marriage proposal that might have come across as somewhat obligatory. At any rate, it wasn’t among the top ten most romantic moments in our storied relationship.”
“Did she say yes?”
“She nodded. Then she puked. Does that count?”
Saylor made a face. “It doesn’t sound ideal.”
“You know,” I mused, “I’ve thought about it a thousand times, how I would propose to Stephanie. Somehow I was picturing a slightly grander gesture. Candles on a rooftop, mountainside hike, words on a jumbo tron in front of fifty thousand people we’ll never see again. A nonchalant ‘Hey, I knocked you up so let’s get hitched’ probably isn’t the stuff a girl’s dreams are made of. ”
“Who says?”
“I do.”
Saylor sighed. She got up, poured the tea into two waiting cups and placed them on the table.
“Chasyn,” she said earnestly. “I’m going to let you in on a secret. Real life isn’t a perpetual series of grand gestures. It’s messy. And often uneven. But at the end of the day it’s the accidental, imperfect moments that will stand out. It’s colliding unexpectedly with the boy you once hated and finding a good man standing there instead. And then a split second later or so it seems you are watching him hold the newborn daughters you created together while realizing neither of you knows what the hell you’re doing but it doesn’t matter a damn bit because everything is exactly as it should be.” She grabbed my arm and squeezed. “The best moments are never planned.”
In an instant my life with Stephanie flashed through my mind. Everything from the first hot kiss in Vegas to sprawling in the living room eating Chinese food and watching baseball. Uncounted tiny moments that all melted together and made a day worth waking up for.
“See?” she beamed like she knew exactly what had just passed through my head.
“It’s daunting when you act psychic.”
Saylor took a sip of her tea, watching me. She put the cup down. “A long time ago I asked you if you thought Stephanie was worth all the ups and downs. You never wavered. You told me she was worth everything.”
I didn’t hesitate. “She still is.”
“Tell her that, Chase. That’s all you need to do. I can’t say I have the answer to every question when it comes to love and I don’t know what’s going through Stephanie’s mind right now. But I know damn well that girl loves you.”
I couldn’t play it off. Every bit of emotion came through in my voice. “Feeling’s mutual. I’d do anything for her.”
“Chase.” Saylor reached across the table and squeezed my arm. “Just tell her that. You don’t need to be grand. Just real.”
While I was thinking about that the littlest Gentrys came running into the kitchen and scolded me for taking too long to return. Obediently I followed the girls back to their bedroom and continued being educated about every last one of their possessions.
Before I headed out Saylor urged me to stop by at Scratch and say hello to Cord. Since Stephanie wouldn’t be home for hours and I still couldn’t find a reason to get jazzed about hanging out on the couch watching daytime television I agreed. My mind was still galloping around like crazy. Anyway I had a sudden hunger for male company. Saylor was a cherished part of my family and I was grateful for her friendship and wisdom. But whenever life threw a sudden curveball in my direction there was one thing I needed to get my head back on straight.
Two things actually.
I needed my brothers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CORD
Not ten minutes after Creed exited the shop door I heard Chase’s voice in the lobby. He was going to have to wait because I was busy inking over a corny balloon heart that had the name Ryan in the center. The girl it was attached to was no more than twenty. She’d walked in here with heartbreak written all over her face, asking me if there was anything I could do to remake her shoulder ink into something else.
“Sure,” I’d said smoothly, keeping to myself the observation that this Ryan prick must have royally fucked up somehow.
“God, I hate men,” fumed the girl, frowning at the ceiling. Then she seemed to think I’d be insulted so she made amends. “I didn’t mean you. You seem okay.”
I just nodded and went to work, coloring the heart in black so the name wouldn’t be visible and surrounding it with thorny vines, which seemed appropriate.
In the background I heard Chase joking around with Aspen. Chase was asking her in all seriousness if she thought he’d look okay with blue hair. She told him magenta was more his style.
I didn’t take me long to finish the black heart. The girl seemed pleased by the design but then tried to get a little too cozy with me so I walked her to the front and had Aspen take care of the financial side of things. I was slightly taken aback when Chase jumped out of his chair and grabbed me in a bear hug.
“What’s up, man?” I asked, giving him a hearty pat on the back.
“I fucking love this guy,” Chase announced to the room, squeezing me and rocking back and forth.
“All right, all right.” I fended him off but grinned the whole while, grateful that my brother’s spontaneous goofiness was and always would be intact.
“You just missed seeing the monster,” I told Chase as we headed toward the back office.
“Creed was here?”
“Yeah, we had lunch. Would have given you a heads up if I had any idea you’d be on this side of town this afternoon.”
Chase sat down and propped his feet up on my desk while I gave him a quick rundown of all the Creedence-related news. Crazy sister-in-law on the run. Infant nephew tossed into the middle of it. It sounded like something out of a movie and I’d listened in disbelief as Creed tensely gave out details. Chase seemed to take it all in stride though. He listened carefully and then let out a low whistle.
“So I guess Creed isn’t the only one with news.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I have news too.”
I waited. Chase laced his hands behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling contentedly.
“Are you going to elaborate?” I asked.
“Hold on, I’m rather enjoying this new cryptic side of my personality.”
“Well, let me know when you’re finished. I’m going to enter the week’s receipts in the meantime.”
Chase took his feet off the desk and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Steph is pregnant.”
I felt myself smiling. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well shit bro, congratulations!”
He gave me a small smile but then it slowly faded from his face. “Thanks.”
“Don’t cut yourself on that enthusiasm.”
“It’s not
my own enthusiasm I’m agonizing over.”
Something was wrong. I knew it was Chase’s dream to marry Stephanie and start a family. Since Chase was never one to hide his exuberance there had to be a reason he wasn’t jumping up and down. Given the fact that they were planning on moving into a Phoenix apartment in two weeks and hadn’t hinted that wedding bells were forthcoming I figured the pregnancy wasn’t a planned one. I thought back to the early morning four years ago when Saylor had shaken me out of a dead sleep to joyfully announce that we were going to be parents. I’d stared at the pregnancy test feeling a chaotic mixture of pride, terror and love. Sometimes even now I was still astonished over my good fortune, overwhelmed by the fact that out of all the better men on earth Saylor McCann had picked me.
After a moment Chase sighed. In halting words that seemed to hurt him as they emerged he confessed that he and Steph just weren’t connecting lately. She’d wanted to go to law school but now with a baby on the way he was afraid she thought she’d missed the chance. She didn’t even want to talk about it anymore. Stephanie, like all of us, also had some baggage. Hers was in the form of a philandering father and a history of seeing men at their worst. Maybe she feared what marriage and kids would do to her relationship with Chase. Whatever was going on, Chase seemed reluctant to force a confrontation. It hurt to hear him quietly admit that he was afraid of the truth. Afraid that maybe the girl he loved didn’t want the same things he wanted.
“Look,” I said. “You guys are overdue for a sincere conversation. So quit dancing around the topic, sit her down, and have it out. You love each other. You belong together and I wouldn’t bullshit you about that. Everything else can be worked out, Chase. Tell her how you feel about her and listen to what she says. It doesn’t need to be a big event. Just needs to be honest.”
“A perpetual series of grand gestures,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
