Page 1 of A Package Deal

PROLOGUE

Warrick

The last few seconds of my father’s life didn’t tick away to the tune of the grandfather clock passed down through several generations and currently motionless in the living room due to lack of winding, but rather to the squawk of the rooster outside his window. Dad looked ten years older than his seventy-two years, but end-stage heart disease will do that to a person. His breath whistled in and out of his lungs as he struggled to give us three boys his final wishes. Mom sat on the bed, holding one of Dad’s hands, the skin paper thin. My brothers and I stood along the foot of the bed, assembled altogether for the first time in years.

“That damn cock won’t stop!” Dad wheezed, grinning. “I always liked him for it.”

Mom gasped. “Willie! Stop talking about your prized cock and tell the boys what you want them to do.”

Boon jolted next to me, a flapping sound coming from his lips that reminded me of letting air out of a balloon. Colson, on the other hand, inhaled loudly through his nose, practically vibrating with the effort to tamp down his laughter. I figured we were lucky the goats hadn’t wandered into the house to join this little get-together. Dad had always been funny and it was on brand for him to be hilarious even when listing out his final wishes.

Dad shot me a wink that took me back to being a little kid helping him under the hood of his truck, or floating on his dented fishing boat in the early morning sun while we ate donuts, or handing me a beer when I was a teenager and Mom’s back was turned.

“Ah yes. What I want them to do.” Dad coughed, the sound thick and wet. He’d seen all the specialists, endured all the procedures. I’d made sure of it. What Dad wanted most was to take his last breath here on his hobby farm in the small town of Blueball where he’d raised his kids, Mom by his side. “You’re all successful boys and I’m proud of you. But it’s time to come home. Before a year is up, I expect you all to have moved back here.”

Boon wasn’t laughing now. Colson seemed contemplative, but not upset. I, for one, had zero issues with the mandate. I’d sold my company six months ago and was at a loss for what to do with the second half of my life. City living had lost its charm and nothing had caught my attention in so long I wondered if I was dead inside. Life had become stagnant. Maybe moving home and taking care of Mom would give me some purpose.

“Understood, Dad,” I answered for all of us. As the oldest, that had always been the way we communicated. If someone had to take responsibility for something, it was usually me. Even now. “I’ll make sure we all come back.”

Dad nodded, already looking worn out from the brief conversation. “Good, son. I know you will.”

“Was that it, Willie?” Mom asked gently. Always so gentle with her husband. She was a force to be reckoned with when it came to anyone else.

“Warrick,” Dad rasped. “You will plant a field of rose bushes on the property so my Gigi will have flowers for our anniversary even when I’m gone.”

Mom sniffled loudly and bent to kiss Dad’s forehead. Colson shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of an enduring love.

“Colson,” Dad said, his voice weaker.

“Yes, Dad?” Colson straightened next to me.

“You will go find Tully and either get her to marry you again or you’ll get that damn tattoo removed from your finger and go live your life.”

“But—”

“No! Everyone’s been wanting to say it for years, but I’ll be the one to have the balls. Either get her to love you again or move on, son.”

Colson bowed his head, eyes closed.

Dad kept going, knowing we’d all obey even if we didn’t answer affirmatively. “And you, Boon. You’ll quit your whoring ways and date a woman for a whole year. Work for it for once. Show your daughter what a real man looks like in the love department.”

“Dad,” Boon started, only to be cut off by another wracking cough.

Dad’s eyes closed and his head rolled to the side of his pillow. I could see a vein faintly pulsing along his temple. The man who’d once been so vital and spirited was nowhere to be found.

“Boys, I think your father needs some rest,” Mom said, fussing around Dad and making sure the covers were tucked around him.

All three of us shuffled to his side, leaning down to kiss his forehead and tell him how much we loved him. Then we filed out of the room and stared at each other in stunned silence right next to the grandfather clock. I’d had a feeling Dad would want us to move home permanently, but I hadn’t expected the other stipulations. Frankly, I’d gotten off easy.

It was standing next to that damn grandfather clock two days later that Dad went home. No sound gave it away, but a peculiar change in the air seemed to signal a shift in the world as we knew it. I peeked inside the bedroom to see Mom next to him, head bowed. His hands were wrapped around hers, a soft smile permanently on his face even as his chest no longer rose and fell. My brothers came up behind me, each of us moving as one to surround Mom. We formed a wall of broad muscle and identical brown hair.

Dad didn’t have to worry any longer. We’d take care of Mom from here on out.

“Just let me know when you’re ready and we’ll have our staff lower the casket,” Marlo Booth murmured, the eccentric funeral home director here in Blueball. She shifted aside, the perfect amount of helpful while also remaining unintrusive during our father’s funeral service.

All of us had spoken, paying tribute to a man we could only hope to model ourselves after. Mom had cried as much as she’d laughed, something I thought Dad would be particularly proud of. The assembled friends and family had all paid their respects and eventually drove off, leaving just us three boys and Mom surrounding the casket gleaming in the early afternoon sunlight. Mom stepped forward and put her hand on the top of the casket, just under the large spray of flowers.

“Give me a minute, boys,” she murmured, voice thin but firm.

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