Page 73 of Mustang Summer

“Says who?Those things don’t rot, they’ve done studies.”

“—and you didn’t move the seat forward.You moved it back and the radio blasted so loud I thought I lost an eardrum.”

“It was a Dierks song.I can’t help the volume when he comes on.”

Brock shook his head.As always, Cash was unrepentant about his behavior.“I don’t know how Josie would react, but she understands.”

“Understands what?”Cash faced him, a sign that Brock should look him in the eyes.

“She just understands me.”

“She’s used to living by the cities where there’s more to offer.I’m going to be honest, Brock.Me and the guys aren’t going to tolerate weekly out-of-town shopping trips.You want to pay for that with your own income from the ’Stangs, I guess it’s your business what you throw your money away on.”

Brock spun away and marched to the large, well-kept ranch house that’d had many updates over the years.An issue that only added more fuel to his anger.His aunts and uncles didn’t squabble over spending money on their own homes, but his mom’s expenses had been constantly questioned while his home had minimal updates.

Me and the guys aren’t going to tolerate weekly out-of-town shopping trips.

Brock respected his mother’s wishes and didn’t reveal what those excursions were really for.It’d been so refreshing to confess to Josie, but she wasn’t the guys.And not just the guys he worked with, but the rest of his cousins had made comments about his mom’s spending habits and how they hurt the business.

His cousins’ remarks about the new shirts or Legos he’d come home with had been less pointed and venomous than his uncles’ observations.He’d witnessed how a few of his aunts and uncles had talked to his mom when he was younger.He’d been so angry he was shaking, but his mom had just laid a hand on his shoulder, her signal for him to shut up, and steered him away.

“Hey!”Cash jogged to catch up with him, his boots crunching in the gravel.“What the hell, Brock?I’m just being real.”

His family was milling around in the backyard where the sliding kitchen door opened to a patio.Dillon and Elle were chatting with Dillon’s mom.Cash’s sister and Aaron’s brother were tossing bean bags in a corn row game.Travis and his fiancée looked like they were embroiled in a serious discussion, their typical interaction lately.Cash’s dad was laughing with Aaron and his parents.Travis’s parents and little sister hadn’t been able to make it, neither had Cash’s mom.

Brock didn’t feel like talking to any of them.His aunts and uncles were needling him about Josie, and Cash could be outright hostile about her.

“Brock!”Cash’s shout turned a lot of his relatives’ heads.Brock ignored all of them.

Dillon stepped away, his gaze leaping back and forth between Brock and Cash charging through the yard.“Everything okay?”he called.

“Fine.”Brock snapped his jaw shut.He didn’t want to talk about it and he wanted to respect his mom’s wishes.Both goals aligned; he stormed to his pickup.

The melee in the yard fell silent.Brock had parked in an unfortunate spot in full view of everyone.

His mom broke away and rushed toward him.“Brock?What happened?”

His gaze swept the group that followed his mom.

“Just Cash being Cash,” he muttered.

By now, all of Brock’s aunts and uncles and cousins surrounded the vehicle.Normally, his large, close-knit family was a comfort, a place where he could be himself with few questions asked.But it’d all come at a cost.It cost his mom, it spilled onto his dad, and Josie was going to pay for all those years of secrecy.His girl had done nothing to earn their disrespect.Her brother had and he was serving time for it.All Josie did was support him and help Brock out with a car.All at a cost to herself.

Cash stopped a few yards away.“It’s nothing, Aunt Nancy.Just a disagreement between us.”

“Is it?”The dam holding back Brock’s silence broke.“Because I don’t think it’s between us.I think it’s between all of you and my parents, and you’re all going to hold it against Josie.”

“I’m sorry?”Brock’s dad stepped forward.“What does your girlfriend have to do with us?”

His mom’s face paled and she edged to his dad’s side.

“All those trips to Fargo were for therapy for my fucked-up brain, not because Mom wanted to get away from the farm.Those toys she bought me?They were to bribe me to sit through the sessions each week.I didn’t like the appointments.They hurt my head.”

Brock swallowed and forced himself to look at everyone.All eyes were on him, including his parents’.Horses nickered in the distance and birds chirped all over the yard.Everything sounded cheerful, much different from how Brock felt.And he’d learned enough about himself to know Josie’s departure had affected him.

“Why would you need therapy, Brock?”Cash’s quiet question must be what was on everyone’s mind.

“I’m autistic,” Brock answered.

---