Page 26 of Embers Glow After the Fire

“Is he physically abusive?” Robbie’s face boils at the idea.

“We had a few altercations over the years—he’s mostly possessive and treated me the way his father treated him, like an old dog.” Brendon’s arm soars through the wind. “He controlled the money and my life. When I wanted to go back to school, he made me feel stupid. When I wanted to get a job or volunteer, he told me it was a waste of time. I couldn’t stay any longer. I was drowning.”

Robbie slows the vehicle and veers onto a dirt parking lot in front of an old chicken barn with multiple signs hung over sliding doors advertising ‘Antiques’ in varied fonts and weathered styles. The front and side of the building are littered with random objects set out to entice summer tourists to shop.

“Is he the reason you've changed your phone number twice since I've known you?” Robbie is piecing the puzzle together, as they are getting out of the SUV.

“Yes.” Brendon’s cheeks burn. “I’ve been hoping he would move on by now, but he harasses me constantly. This trip has been a nice break with no cell service.”

“I wish I had known!” Robbie’s eyes are wide as they trot through a maze of old floor lamps and worn recliners. “We could get you a phone under our account—He wouldn't be able to track you down then.”

“I don't want to get anyone else involved.”

“He’s in Houston. You’re safe up here.” Robbie squeezes his shoulder. “We look out for our family.”

Brendon bites back tears. “I know he’ll track me down eventually.”

“You’ll call us if or when that happens.” Robbie asserts.

The Antique Barn holds the faint stench of chickens seeped into its wooden beams, paired with the must of old artifacts. The interior is a mish-mash of home decor, local artisan goods, random junk, and racks of vintage clothes.

Robbie’s eyes land on a collection of blown glassware.

“What does Matthew like?” Brendon feels aimless in the market.

“Hmm… Matthew likes experiences really. He's not the materialistic sort, but we’ll find something.” Robbie’s eyes squint and his mouth curls. “I think he’ll love anything you pick out for him.”

Brendon’s belly flutters as his mind recalls that warm wet kiss they shared in the lake. “He seems to still be in love with Adam.” He reels himself back from daydreaming.

“He’s always going to love Adam. You would have to. We all did.” Robbie holds up a faded denim jacket. “Oh this is coming home with me—But Adam isn't here anymore. He knows that—Matty is an amazing person who is incredibly loyal. It doesn't mean he hasn't got room for another great love and he has definitely been eyeing you this entire week.” His elbow taps Brendon’s belly.

“Stop.” He shifts focus. “What did you guys get him?”

“You’ll see tomorrow.” Robbie says coyly.

They wander the scattered display tables and eclectic shelving units littered with old treasures steeped in stories from the past.

“Wait—check this out.” Brendon holds up an old set of electric hair clippers. They have mid century design elements and just a hint of patina where someone’s hand rested regularly during their use. “There’s a whole kit of old barbering tools.” He unrolls a leather pouch, similar to the one Matthew carries with him, but much older. It has a variety of scissors and combs tucked into sleeved compartments.

“Brendo! These are perfect!” Robbie admires the treasures. “How much is the set?”

“One hundred fifty.” Brendon points at a handwritten sign in the center of the table.

“Oh no—we can do better than that.” Robbie scans the barn. “Ma’am!” He calls out to the sandy-haired woman arranging a table of mason jar candles. He scoops the Barber’s set into his arms. “Follow me.”

Brendon traipses behind the boss on a mission.

“We’d love to buy these for our friend. His birthday is tomorrow.” Robbie starts. “What’s your best price for the set? He’s a hairstylist and these are perfect for him.” He adds a backstory to sweeten their chances at a deal.

She looks down through bifocals barely hanging onto the tip of her nose. “I can do one twenty-five.” She smiles.

Robbie grits his teeth and turns to Brendon. “How about $80?”

She giggles at his absurdity. “One twenty five.”

Robbie sucks air through his teeth. “Will you do this denim jacket and the barbering set for one twenty five?” His eyelashes flutter.

She holds out a hand to solidify the deal with a shake. “Sure.”

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