Page 39 of Keep

“Damn straight so eat your dinner or no video games for you.”

“I’ll be working in the garage.” Derek held up a hand. “Good seeing you, Curtis.”

Kellan sighed after his brother departed. “I’m not sure Thomas will even eat this crap and Thomas eats anchovies.”

“And where is Thomas?”

“Probably in the backyard firing baseballs through the tire swing. Kid’s got a baseball for a brain.”

I leaned over and peered at Kellan’s macaroni and cheese efforts. The pasta appeared gooey and ridiculously overcooked. It really did look disgusting.

“Brecken tells me Thomas stopped going to Dalton’s training camp.”

“Did he?” Kellan said but I could tell by the way he said it that this wasn’t news to him. “You want to do me a favor and go out back and tell him I want him to come inside for some dinner? Derek would rather step on a nail than do anything I say but I like to kid myself that I still have some authority over Thomas.”

“You got it,” I said and immediately exited the kitchen in search of the backyard.

I found Thomas exactly where his brother said he’d be, poised at the far end of the wide yard and throwing baseballs through a tire swing hanging from a tree at the other end. He threw five in a row without missing, bouncing them against the stone fence.

“You ready for the majors yet?” I asked.

He jumped at the sound of my voice and then smiled.

“Curtis,” he said, walking toward me while wiping the sweat from his face with his t-shirt. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just in the neighborhood. And no, I didn’t bring Cassie. Or Brecken. There’s just me. And a cake.”

He was interested. “What kind of cake?”

I grinned. “Chocolate. I think your brother’s made a mess of dinner but luckily your pretty cousin has taught me a few things and I can whip up some wicked good omelets if you’re hungry.”

Back in the kitchen Kellan had given up on his culinary efforts and dumped his disastrous creation in the trash. Luckily there was a carton of eggs in the fridge along with some cheddar cheese and a package of cold ham so I was able to make good on my omelet promise.

Kellan sat at the table and took a cautious bite before cracking a smile.

“You can actually cook, Curtis,” he said with obvious surprise. “Cassie should keep you.”

I grinned. “Cassie can keep me forever if I have anything to say about it. But she’s a far better cook than I am.”

Thomas swallowed a big bite. “Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked me.

“Maybe. But first I’m going to see if I can tempt Derek out of the garage.”

“Good luck,” Thomas grumbled, forking another piece of omelet.

“Uncle Conway brought over an old junker for him to work on,” Kellan explained. “And nowadays when he’s not working at the Brothers Gentry garage he’s out there in the heat tinkering with it. I guess it keeps his mind off things.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

Derek was in the garage with an old mustard yellow Pontiac. The hood was up but he wasn’t peering into the guts of the car. He was sitting on a wooden crate and staring out of the open garage into the empty street while drinking from a clear plastic bottle.

“I’m a slightly better cook than Kellan,” I said, pulling up another wooden crate to sit beside him. “So how about an omelet? It might be the only thing I can make really well but your brothers were impressed.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Derek said, “but I’m really not hungry.”

I wracked my brain for something else to talk about. “I hear you’re an excellent mechanic. I’m sure Stone and Conway are glad to have you working at the garage.”

“Yeah, I just talked to Stone today about coming on board full time,” he said and took another drink. He saw me watching him and raised the bottle. “It’s water.”

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