Page 77 of Doing Life

No one got out untouched.

“It could be worse, Stan the Man. You could have my parents.”

The collective groan filled the air.

Chris’s folks were relentless, wanting to visit every weekend from New Orleans, calling daily, sending care packages a couple of times a week. Jim and Molly Smith were incredibly sweet people, but, sweet Christ in heaven, a man needed to be able to hold his own dick sometimes. “You know, I joined the Marines to begin with, just to get away from them.” Chris’s chuckle was merry, but there was a hint of truth there. “They put a chairlift in their house. I told them I wasn’t coming to live with them, but they said, ‘Oh, you can use it when you come to visit’. Ramps. Chair lift…”

Brick snorted, and there was some sorrow underneath the wildness in the sound. “Look, guys, we all deal with own ourshit, and I guess they do too. Good, better, and indifferent. It’s tough as hell being a parent.”

Nobody said anything about that because Brick was in the middle of a weird custody thing with his baby mama. He was missing having his little girl around.

Lance had dated girls a lot when he was a teenager, because that was what one did, but he had never been in a situation where getting a girl pregnant was a thing.

Thank God for that, because he didn’t think he or Sloan were meant to be parents. Uncles? Sure, okay. They had enough to take care of themselves. They didn’t need babies.

“Lord have mercy, y’all. Sloan goes to make enchiladas and all of the sudden we’re all gloom and doom.” Lance tried to go for light and easy, but not an asshole. Stan didn’t deserve someone being an asshole.

Stan chuckled, and the sound was a little rough, but not too bad at all. “Shit. We don’t need that. Family is hard, like Brick said. But we got each other and the ranch, and that’s a good thing.”

“To Luke and Matt,” Brick said, clinking his bottle against Lance’s.

Lance grinned, taking a sip. Good smells were already coming from the kitchen. Damn. That was a fine thing. And he thought he could hear hopeful sniffing.

Abby got up, her nails clicking as she headed off to the kitchen. Definitely good smells, then.

“So this is a nice little rental,” Brick said. “Comfy.”

“It is. And the landlord was great about letting Sloan put in a doggie door and a ramp. I think he figures he’ll make a deal with Luke and Rory once we’re out to rent it to guys who are ready to graduate to living alone…”

“There you go; that makes sense.”

Chris’s wheels slid across the floor, the sound a now familiar hiss. “The ramp would work, but for somebodylike me, I mean, if you’re in a wheelchair and you’reinit, you’re going to need the counters lower. There’s all sorts of things, but if you’re able to stand for short periods of time or if you have legs—you know, prostheses—I can totally see this working out. Hell, you could rent it after Sloan and Lance if you’re done, Brick.”

“No, I’m just gonna head out I think. I don’t think I’ll need a quarter-way house.”

“A quarter-way…” Lance tilted his head. “Oh, you mean you’re halfway from the halfway house?”

“Smart soldier.” Brick clapped him on the shoulder. “You’d almost think that you were in the Air Force.”

“Shut up. Just because I’m not a lazy fucker…”

They all cracked up, this game well-played and familiar.

“Seriously though. My arm’s as good as it’s going to get, as far as me learning how to use it. I’m considering heading off.”

“What about your custody stuff?” Dan asked, and there was a long silence.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a thing. She’s got a stepdad who wants to adopt her, and they don’t want me in the picture.” Brick sighed, and Lance tilted his head. He sure thought Brick and Chris were…close. “There’s lots of folks who don’t want me in their picture.”

“But doesn’t what you want make a difference?” It seemed like it ought to.

“Not if it hurts her, it doesn’t. I don’t know. I haven’t made any decisions yet. I just heard from my lawyer. I got to decide whether to keep fighting or give up.”

Jesus. It was just one thing after another, like a set of dominoes ready to fall. He hated that Brick felt like his daughter might never want or need to see him. That wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair.

But he got it, too. It was hard to feel useful. Necessary. It was so much easier to let people take the fast way out and notface up to the way this kind of injury made someone different.

Then again, it wasn’t for him to make Brick’s decisions for him. Even if he wanted to whack the guy.

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