by Reeni Austin
"Yeah," Armando said under his breath. "Speaking of that, we still don't know why he bought those ranches, do we?"
"They were in foreclosure. He got a good deal."
Armando paused. "You really think that's the reason? Why's he so private about 'em?"
"He's private about everything."
"Yeah, but he's different about those ranches. Katie noticed it too. At our reception, Dwayne asked Ramon how his new ranches were doing and he got this strange look on his face and changed the subject. Now, when have you ever known our brother to not wanna talk about ranching?"
"He always acts like that."
"Has he ever invited you over there to see what was goin' on?"
"No, but I never asked. It's better to keep the peace than try to get in his business."
"I asked a couple weeks ago," Armando said. "He shut me down. The ranch hands won't talk about it either."
"Hmm." Victor thought about it. "Well, it's worth looking into." Weeks earlier, Ramon had shown Victor his financial statements from all three ranches, and everything seemed to be in order, and profitable. But his youngest brother was smart and proud. He would certainly know how to hide his financial problems.
Victor tried to stay out of Ramon's business, but he'd spent many sleepless nights worried about him. And after this discussion with Armando, he wondered if it was time to get involved again.
Two hours later, Victor sat beside Tom as they rode to Kernersville to pay Ramon a visit.
"You sure this is the right road?" Victor asked as Tom hung a left turn along a rural highway in Kernersville. "GPS is wrong sometimes."
"I guess we're about to find out." Tom steered with one hand, using his other to straighten his glasses.
They passed a few houses, then Tom said, "There's his truck."
And there it was, parked in front of a tiny house. The sign above the mailbox revealed a name that Victor read aloud. "Perry."
"Sound familiar to you?"
"No." Victor knew from prying into Ramon's property tax records that he had purchased these two adjoining ranches from a company called "Farnsworth Holdings."
As they drove past, they noticed an older, dilapidated house sitting farther back.
Tom clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "The working part of the ranch is up that way, right" He pointed at a closed gate.
"Must be." Victor's eyes followed the road blocked by the gate. It went past the driveway of the old house, then around a curve through a large thicket of trees. He retrieved the property map he had printed, which made more sense now that he saw the land in person. "What now? The gate's locked."
"You think the office is in that house? Is that why he's parked here?" Tom shrugged. "We could call him. Tell him we came up here for lunch."
Victor took a moment to think. "I don't know. I'm curious about why it says 'Perry' on the mailbox. Seems like Ramon would've mentioned that name in passing by now. I feel like he's hiding something."
"Well, we can hide out for a little while and watch him." Tom pointed up the road. "I see a shady little clearing over there."
Victor chuckled and said, "All right. You don't think he'll see us?"
"Nah." Tom hit the accelerator.
Victor hated himself for doing this, but he had been on a stakeout with Tom before, and he had to admit it was kind of exciting.
Nearly an hour passed. Victor hoped to do more research about these ranches online, but his phone barely got a signal. So, they made small talk and theorized about Ramon. Was he living a double life with a second family? Did Henry have something to do with this?
But eventually, Tom gasped and shoved a pair of binoculars at Victor.
"There's a car pulling up," Tom said. "He's got company."
Victor's hands trembled as he held the binoculars to his eyes. "I know it's probably nothing but…"
It seemed to take forever for the person to step out of that car. She was a portly, middle-aged woman with short, dark hair, holding a phone to her ear as she opened the door. She pulled a large duffel bag out of the back seat as she spoke.
Tom said, "She's wearing scrubs. Looks like a nurse."
"Huh." Victor's eyes were glued to the woman, watching her head bob from side to side, then up and down. "Does she look lost to you?"
"Yeah. Like she's on the phone, asking for directions."
Less than a minute later, the front door opened.
Victor gasped. "There he is!"
Tom and Victor watched with bated breath as Ramon, phone to his ear, bounded down the steps to the front yard. When he saw the visitor, he smiled at her, put his phone in his pocket, then shook her hand.
Tom said, "Looks like he's just meeting her for the first time."
Ramon spent a little while in the front yard, talking to the woman, facing the car where Tom and Victor hid.
"You think he sees us?" Victor asked.
Tom laughed. "We'd already know if he did."
Right then, the front door opened again. A tiny woman with chin-length white hair and large, round glasses came outside. She moved slowly, pushing a walker in front of her, letting go of it for a moment to wave at Ramon and the lady in scrubs. They both returned her wave. Ramon ran up to the porch and sweetly placed his hand on the woman's back and shared a smile with her, then he introduced her to their visitor.
"What the…" Victor held his breath, squinting and adjusting his binoculars to get a better view of the elderly woman.
"You know her?" Tom asked.
"She looks familiar, but—" The answer came to him at once, and he almost dropped the binoculars. "Mrs. Perry! She's a teacher. Or at least, she was a teacher." His heart raced as information flooded his memory. "She looks so much older now. Sweet lady. She retired the year Ramon graduated." Then Victor stopped talking. Instantly, he found himself choked up at the sight of his brother helping Mrs. Perry into her house. He seemed like a completely different person.
Victor pulled the binoculars away and used them as a shield to keep Tom from seeing him wipe tears from his eyes. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat before saying, "Why would he hide this?"
Tom sighed. "I don't know."
They watched the trio enter the house and close the door before lowering their binoculars.
Tom immediately eased the car out of the shade and turned down the road in the opposite direction of Ramon.
"So," Tom said as he drove. "What do you know about this woman?"
"She was an English teacher at Turnbrook High."
"Did she ever mention her family? Home life?"
"If she did I don't remember." Victor stared at the house in the rearview mirror, swallowing against tears. Waiting until his emotions steadied, he said, "But I remember the last time I spoke with her. She tracked me down in college. Begged me to encourage Ramon to do more with his life."
"Why would she call you?"
Victor spoke in a soft voice, his eyes still on that house until it disappeared when Tom drove around a curve. "She had no one else to call, I guess. Ramon was sixteen when we lost Mama. Henry was his legal guardian. I guess she figured his brothers could talk some sense into him because Henry sure wasn't trying. But there was nothing we could do to make him go to college. He could've had a free ride but he didn't want it. He always said college was for pussies and real men raise beef."
Tom laughed, hard. "Sounds like him."
Victor relaxed a tiny bit at the sound of Tom's laughter. But he couldn't shake his sadness over the life Ramon chose. Too busy to take proper care of himself. Lonely enough to hook up with a new woman in his house so quickly. Too proud to ask anyone for help, even though they could all see he was drowning with so much work.
"I gotta figure out how to help him," Victor said. "Whether he wants it or not."
* * *
Ramon walked into his house at the end of the day, more tired than usual. A new home health aide started at Mrs. Perry's house today, which was always an ordeal. He knew h
e couldn't let her live by herself much longer, even though she desperately wanted to.
He was only a few steps past the front door when Isaac flew out of the living room. Tonight, he hugged Ramon's leg with one arm because he was holding something in the other.
"Whatcha got there?" Ramon asked.
Isaac handed him a sheet of paper, his voice timid. "I made it."
Ramon took the paper. It was a crudely drawn crayon picture of two stick people with a large sun in the corner and trees on either side. Above the person on the left it said, "Isaac." Above the other, "Ramon."
Inhaling a slow gasp, Ramon widened his eyes at Isaac. "It's a picture of me and you!"
Isaac grinned and nodded.
Ramon asked, "Did you write these names all by yourself?"
Isaac softly answered, "Miss Cheh-sie helped me at school."
"Miss Chelsea helped you, huh?" Ramon smiled and ran his fingers through the boy's hair. "Well, it's the best picture I've ever seen. Can I keep it?"
"Uh-huh!"
"Good. I'm gonna frame it and keep it forever."
Isaac looked confused. "Fwame it?"
"Yep. Like this." Ramon reached over to the closest picture on the wall, which happened to be of him and his brothers as teenagers. Touching the frame, he said, "See this? It's a picture frame."
He went on for a minute explaining the concept to Isaac, who asked insightful questions that made Ramon laugh.
Lord, each day that passed made Ramon dread the idea of Victor and Cara moving away. Hopefully, at the very least, they'd buy a second home and stay there part of the year. Having a nephew was probably as good as having a son of his own. Or better. And considering Ramon's luck with women, he had a feeling being an uncle was as close as he'd ever get to being a father.
Ramon called a quick "hey" to Patty in the kitchen as he and Isaac passed by. He wanted to stop in his office to put the picture in a safe place before taking his usual stroll of the ranch.
He was a little disappointed not to see Marcy anywhere, but he assumed she'd turn up by the time dinner rolled around.
A half hour later, the nightly inspection was finished. Ramon and Isaac entered the back door, heading for the bathroom to wash up for dinner, when they saw Victor at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hey," Victor said. He had that concerned look Ramon recognized… and loathed.
"What is it?" Ramon cocked his head to the side.
Shrugging, Victor said, "Nothing."
"You're lying. What is it?"
Victor's voice was gentle. "We can talk after dinner."
Ramon rolled his eyes at him just as Patty yelled from the kitchen, "Sorry! It'll be another twenty minutes! Cara and Marcy are still at the grocery store!"
Chuckling, Ramon said, "Well, ain't that convenient?" Then he nodded down the hall to his office.
Victor told Isaac to go to the kitchen to see if Grandma needed help, then he and Ramon went down the hall.
Ramon took a seat behind his desk as Victor closed the door, then said, "Don't drag it out. It's almost time for dinner," or, in other words, he was about to see Marcy. "What is it?"
"I know you bought the ranches in Kernersville from Mrs. Perry. Our high school English teacher. You helped her out of foreclosure."
Ramon flinched a little. "Where'd you hear that?"
Victor shrugged. "Kernersville's a small town."
"So you spoke to someone in Kernersville? Like, you actually drove there to ask someone about me?"
"It's not that far."
"It's far enough to tell me you're tryin' too hard to get into my business. Don't you have better things to do? Like a wedding to plan and a kid to raise?" Ramon shook his head. "You know, Isaac's pretty damn confused about you being his new daddy. Why don't you worry about that instead?"
Victor sighed. "I know. But that's for me and Cara to worry about, not you. Don't try to change the subject. Why'd you lie about those ranches?"
"I've never once lied to you about this. Never."
"It's an omission. Some people would call that a lie."
"Well, some people can fuck off." Ramon pointed at the door. "Now, get outta here."
"Come on, man. Don't be an asshole." Victor hunched forward in his chair. "What are you hiding? Are the ranches in trouble?"
"Don't worry about it."
"Let me help you."
"No," Ramon snapped, his blood boiling. "My ranches are fine. If I wanted your help I'd ask for it."
Victor let out a single laugh, then said, "It's not a matter of want. It's a matter of need. You know you need help but you'll never ask for it."
Scoffing, Ramon said, "You have no idea what I need. Seriously."
"You just want a reason to argue. Come on. Let me help you." He held up his hand, silencing his brother. "Not with money. With time."
Ramon shook his head. "No."
"Why not?"
"Just no. That's all the reason I need."
Victor shrugged. "It's obvious you don't have enough time to manage all the ranches yourself. That's where I can help. I help people streamline their businesses all the time."
Smirking, Ramon said, "By the time I show you the ropes, you'll move back to New York, and—"
"I'm retired from that life, in case you hadn't noticed. I'd rather Isaac grow up seeing me work a ranch, not coming to my office to visit me because I'm working there seventy hours a week."
"Really?" Ramon snorted. "Mr. Manhattan Creampuff's gonna move back home to the ranch. Yeah, right. You've gotten too soft for this." Ramon put his elbows on the desk, leaning forward. "I realize I spend a lotta time in this office but there're days when I gotta work as hard as any of those boys out back."
Victor's casual reply was, "I know. I could do that."
"Sure, sure," Ramon said, sarcastically. "If a ranch hand doesn't show up, you're gonna dig a ditch, or mend a fence, or vaccinate calves, or—"
"Yes!" Victor glared at him. "I grew up here too, in case you forgot!"
"That was a long time ago." Ramon's head shook. "I already told you, you've gotten soft. You couldn't handle it now."
Victor then rose to his feet and bent forward, his eyes big and angry, palms flattening against the desk. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Let me put this another way. If you would just fucking admit you need my help, you may have a valid reason for me to move my family here, permanently. Got it?"
Ramon's rage slowly diffused, shattered by the start of a warm, fuzzy feeling he rarely experienced. He felt like an idiot for taking so long to understand. Keeping his expression serious, he stared into his brother's eyes. In a voice so quiet it was barely audible, he said, "I'll think about it."
Victor pressed his lips together, inhaled through his nose, then blew out a long-suffering sigh. He balled up his fist and let it hit the desk with a soft thud. In an angry whisper, he muttered, "Pendejo."
Ramon rolled his eyes and sank back against his leather seat, avoiding Victor's heavy gaze. "Pendejo" was always Ramon and Armando's nickname for each other. Victor, however, used it rarely, and with purpose.
When Ramon finally let his eyes rise to Victor's, he was taken aback that his oldest brother still appeared so angry. Feeling more sheepish than he wanted to show, Ramon steadied his voice and said, "Let me work out some details first. We can discuss it next week."
Incredulous, Victor smirked, his face tight with tension. He moved his hands from the desk and stood up straight. "I'm not gonna change my mind. Just let me be your damn brother, for once."
Scoffing, Ramon said, "And you tell me I'm the stubborn one?" Their eyes locked, and Ramon felt a little of his anger return. He stood, matching Victor's stance. "Don't go behind my back again. If you wanna know something, just ask."
With a clever nod, Victor said, "Okay. Why'd Henry leave town?"
Ramon's chest suddenly felt tight as he thought about the day Henry left. He didn't care if what he was about to say to Victor was a lie, an omission, or both. "You already
know. I bought him out of the ranch and he took a vacation."
Victor eyes searched Ramon's for a few moments. Then, without a word, he turned around and headed to the kitchen.
CHAPTER 10
That night at eight o'clock, Marcy sat alone on her bed wearing a short, low-cut nightgown, feeling a little let down. Ramon had quietly left dinner early and had been alone in his office ever since. Cara told her it was likely due to a discussion he had with Victor and she shouldn't take it personally, but she wasn't so sure.
She was just about to change clothes and join the family in the living room when she heard a quiet knock.
Her pulse quickened. She ran to the door and opened it.
And there he was, mid-yawn. Wearing the same clothes he wore at dinner.
When he stopped yawning, he said, "Sorry. That was rude."
"It's okay." Marcy forced a grin.
Ramon's eyebrows pulled together. He glanced at her bed then shouldered his way through the door. "Aren't you gonna let me in?"
She stepped out of his way.
Ramon shoved the door closed and locked it. Then he took her hand and guided her to the bed where he sat down, sighing loudly as he reached for her other hand. He pulled her into place between his knees, gazing up at her with sad, puppy dog eyes.
Marcy looped her hands around his neck, lacing her fingers together. She tilted her head to the side and tenderly asked, "What's wrong? You look like you need a hug."
"Mmm." Ramon's hands flew under her nightgown to her backside, fingers pressing deep into her soft flesh, bringing her closer. "I need a whole lot more than a hug."
Marcy's head fell back as he leaned forward, nuzzling her chest and neck, his breath blazing a hot trail against her skin that flooded her with memories of the previous night.
When he reached her jaw, he kissed her there. Then he kissed her neck, letting his tongue linger.
In a breath, Marcy whispered, "Oh my God," as her hands slid down his back. She inhaled deeply and whispered, "I was afraid you were gonna cancel on me tonight."
He chuckled, kissed her neck again, and said, "Fear not, baby doll."
