Page 15 of Drifting Hearts
“I’m just doing him a favor.”
“So you’ve said.” Brodie grunted on the other end. “Oh shit, oh fuck. Ouch ouch, ouch.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My foot’s asleep. I sat weird.”
“You’re a little attention-seeker.”
“I’m fine with that assessment.” Brodie sounded far too pleased with himself.
“How is Shane’s new project coming?”
Though that’s precisely what I’d said in my head about Clayton a million times over, hearing it out loud from someone else made me bristle.
“It’s hard to say. He’s been healing, so he’s basically been on lockdown. He can’t get around without me or someone else. The cast comes off his leg today.” Buttoning the last button on my shirt, I undid it again and looked at myself in the mirror. I had the vague idea that I was overdressed, so I popped the buttons back open and tossed the shirt aside, switching it out for a sky blue Henley that I pulled over my head as Brodie prattled on almost endlessly.
We used to just let him talk until he exhausted himself, but now he caught on.
“Are you listening to me, Kieran?”
“Honestly, not really.”
He laughed. “Fuck you. You’re an asshole.”
“Come home and say that to my face.”
“I just might. Don’t think I won’t.”
“Uh-huh. I seem to remember you saying about eight or nine months ago that you’d come home for a visit soon.”
“Soon is relative.”
“What part of the world are you in now anyway?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” Brodie snorted at his own lame joke. “I’ve already sent you a postcard.”
“Ah, so I should get that in about nine months.”
“The postal service isn’t that bad.”
“You’re right. It’s worse.” The Henley was an improvement over the button-up except for the fact that I still felt like a marshmallow around the middle. There was nothing I could do about that in the next five minutes, though. Peeling myself away from the mirror, I shoved my wallet in my back pocket and collected my keys off the dresser. “I have to get going, Brodie, but before I do, please consider the fact that Shane and I miss you. And Mom does too. She’s practically adopted that busted-up gambling addict to replace you.”
“Oh, fuck you, Kieran. That’s low. Using Mom to manipulate me into coming home so you and Shane can pick on me.”
“Did it work?” I made my way to the front door and stepped into my well-worn sneakers. They weren’t appropriate shoes if I was going into the office to deal with clients, but they were fine for the day’s errands.
“I do miss Mom’s cooking.”
“Then come for a visit. At least come meet Shane’s boyfriend. He’s over the moon, Brodie. It’s disgusting how happy he is.”
“I’ll see what I can do. But I have to go, my phone is about to die and so am I. I need about twenty-five hours of sleep.”
“Takecare.”
“You too.”
Brodie ended the call, or maybe his phone died. Either way it meant that I got to make the drive to Mom’s in blissful silence. I loved Brodie, but he never met a silence he could tolerate.
