Page 88 of The Promise Of You

Justin

Aweek later, I’m at Clark’s Meadow, wiping the sweat trickling down my forehead as I hammer the last stake into the ground. It’s my least favorite part of the summer fair. We can’t afford to hire people to set up the equipment, so we do it ourselves. And the food tent is the largest one, bulky and heavy. We start with that one, so the rest seem easy in comparison.

I stand and look at it. Mission accomplished. I step in the shade and reach for my bottle of water. Chloe is helping carry the trestles inside, and I do a double take at the way her T-shirt clings to her breasts and lifts, showing her narrow waist.

It’s been ten days since our first cooking session at the cottage. Ten days since I almost kissed her. And thank fuck I was interrupted. Since then, I’ve been managing. Being close to her is part torture, part dream. I want more with her, but I can’t have that.

I know it sounds weird, but I can’t get past the fact that it’d be wrong. And not because she’s Murphy’s niece. Or Sullivan’s daughter.

Fuck these people. No, the real reason is all about me.

A powerful backslap interrupts my daydreaming. “Stop gawking!” I jump in disbelief at the familiar voice, dread and happiness fighting for control over my feelings.

Before I can decide which it will be, I’m taken in a bear hug.

One I reciprocate, not believing it’s finally happening.

My older brother, Ethan, is back.

I never thought I’d see the day.

He left ten years ago without saying goodbye to me.

After what I did, I can’t blame him.

He releases his grip on me and holds me at arm’s length. “You look good, brother. Damn good.” He fist-bumps my pecs, and it’s just like old days. I don’t know if he’s serious or teasing or making fun of me.

Because I may look good, but Ethan is a hunk. He’s chiseled. He’s beefed up. He’s taller than me. He’s always been, but he seems taller than last time I saw him, if that’s possible. He’s scary.

And I’m his little brother again, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“Tell me what to do,” he says, squinting in the sunshine. “We’ll catch up later.”

He’s been in the military for the last ten years. Surely there’s other things he’d rather do now than set up tents?

“Seen Mom and Dad yet?”

“Course! Mom started cooking. Dad said you guys would all be here.” He grips my shoulder like he wants me to relax, and maybe I should. “You look great, man,” he says again. “Fuck, I missed you.”

My gaze wanders to Chloe. She’s laughing heartily with Autumn. They’ve already decorated the tent with a bunch of wicker baskets and garlands of flowers. Chloe is describing something to Autumn, using her hands a whole lot and making faces. “Missed you too, man.” Guilt creeps through me at the thought of why he left, and I look away from Chloe, to the shrieks coming closer and closer.

Hunter, Logan, and Haley come running, and for a hot minute it’s a jumble of King family hugs. Haley wipes a tear away and stays tucked under Ethan’s arm. “Alright guys, tell me what to do,” he says again.

“Jeez, they really brainwashed you! All you do is take orders?” Hunter jokes.

“Yeah, you little fuck.” Ethan laughs. “By the way, Dad said to ride your ass for the piss-poor job you did cleaning the stables. Wanna give me a hundred push-ups?”

We all laugh and move to set up the next tent. I’ll return to the food tent later to finish hooking up the generator I borrowed and all the portable kitchen equipment.

I glance toward Chloe, who’s now helping Autumn write shit on blackboards. She lifts her head toward me, and our gazes lock for a brief moment before I’m pulled into setting up the next tent.

And now I feel guilty about her too.

When will this ever stop?

That evening the whole King family is having dinner together at the farm. Mom made a pot roast, and Dad is liberally serving wine and beer. It’s only us for once, and it’s all of us. Their monthly Sunday dinners, pretty much half the town has an open invitation, so we do get together a lot. But just Mom and Dad and us ‘kids,’ it doesn’t happen often. And I can’t remember the last time Ethan was here. It seems he came once during all the time he was enrolled, but we were tied up with some function or another, and I can’t remember being seated like this, around the family table, since… since before.

I don’t know when it will ever happen again.

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