Page 93 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
He stared at me for a minute. “When did you get so damn smart?”
“You raised me well,” I said with a laugh. But then I sobered and cleared my throat. “Not sure I ever thanked you for what you did for me.” I lowered my head and grabbed the back of my neck, talking to the ground because I couldn’t say this shit to his face. “But I hope you know I appreciate it. Not many people would do what you did.”
“Bullshit. I did what any decent person would do.”
The keyword was decent, and he was downplaying everything he’d done for me. “Nah. You went above and beyond.” I stared off into the distance and broached a topic we’d never discussed. “You never ask about her. You never once asked about her.” My gaze snapped to his face. “How come?”
Brody leaned his forearms on the fence and watched his horses. “I know she raised you for almost seventeen years, but I got taken away when I was nine. And those were the worst nine years of my life. I don’t have a single good memory of her.” He turned to me. “Do you?”
I thought about it for a moment. I had a few. Two summers ago, on her birthday, I used my drug money to take her to an Italian restaurant she’d always wanted to go to but couldn’t afford. She was so happy that night.
She came to my football games whenever she could. She always told me I was the best player on the team.
I fought for her and protected her, and she relied on me. Confided in me. It always felt like a huge responsibility taking care of my mother when I could barely look after myself. There were times I’d resented it, but it was never something I’d questioned. It was just my life, so I did the best I could with what little I had. Which I knew now was not nearly enough.
“Yeah, I do. But the bad outweighs the good,” I admitted.
Brody nodded, and we didn’t say another word about it. Subject closed. I wonder if he remembered that today was her birthday. She would have been fifty-two. I guess it was a miracle that she’d made it to fifty. In the same way, it was a miracle that I’d made it to eighteen without getting shot, becoming a junkie, or ending up in prison, like so many of the guys I grew up with.
I left Brody with his thoughts and called Evie as I crossed the field to the guest house.
“Hey,” she said, sounding happy to hear from me. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Yeah?” I dropped into one of the Adirondack chairs on the back porch and propped my feet on the railing. “What were you thinking? Dirty thoughts?”
“Just wondering if you want company tonight.”
“Who did you have in mind?”
She laughed. “Can I come over?”
Like she had to ask. “Bring a bikini. Or not.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I’m so hot.”
“Yeah, you are.” In the next breath, “You just want me for my lake.”
“And your air conditioning.”
“Second thought, I’m busy tonight.” I was teasing, but I stared at the trees bordering the lake and waited for her response.
“I’d still want to see you. Even without the air conditioning and the lake.”
I smiled. This was the softer side of Evie, and I fucking loved it. Especially when I knew she hid this side from most people. But I wasn’t most people. I was someone special to her, even if she refused to admit it. “How soon can you get here?”
“I’m on my way. I can’t stay the night, though.”
I ignored the second sentence and only chose to hear the first. “Drive fast. Second thought, don't push your luck. Your car might die if you drive over twenty miles per hour.”
“My car’s not that bad,” she said, defending her piece of shit car. “I’m going sixty, and it’s not even making that rattling noise.”
“Small victory.”
“They’re what I live for.”
Sadly, that’s what I used to live for, too, but now I had a big, bright future, and I wished like hell that Evie would have that too. I knew she’d gotten straight A’s in high school. A major feat considering all the shit she dealt with at home. Not that she shared any of it with me. When it came to her home life, she was still a closed book.
But there was one thing I knew for certain. Evie was so much better than the life she was living.
