Page 25 of Alive and Wells

“Oh, honey. You have no idea.”

Well, fuck.I thought we were joking around. How was I supposed to know something as simple as a country song from more than forty years ago would bother him this much? Doesn’t stop me from feeling like a complete piece of shit, though.

“Austin!” I yell after him as my feet thud across the front porch. With the amount of wind, I’d be surprised if he can hear me over all the chimes out here.

“Austin!” I yell again, running up to him. “Hey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be a dick back there.”

“It’s fine.”

“Clearly not, or you wouldn’t have stormed off.”

“I didn’t… I have work to do. Not everybody gets to goof off all day.” His strides quicken, and I’m nearing Olympic-speed-walking pace to keep up as we approach the barn.

“You didn’t even finish your coffee, so Iknowyou weren’t racing off to go do work. I’m sorry, okay? That’s all I wanted to say. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t hurt feelings when they don’t exist.”

I laugh. Cackle, really. “Sure. I’m sorry. It was supposed to be a joke, but it was mean. For what it’s worth, Austin, I don’t think those lyrics apply to you.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t have to accept my apology.”

We’re inside the stables, and climbing a steep set of stairs. I’m not sure why I haven’t stopped following him yet, or why he hasn’t told me to leave. Suddenly, we’re in a place that looks suspiciously like a secret office.

This is where he disappears to every day.

“So, this is where you’re always hiding.” I take in the small space. His desk is perfectly organized and neat, unsurprisingly. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Austin, it’s that nothing about him is ever the tiniest bit unruly. “It’s cute.”

“Working, not hiding.” He sits down at the desk, spinning the black chair to face me. “If I say I accept your apology, will you leave me to work in peace?”

“I’ll leave you tobrood, yes.” I plop down into the plush armchair across from him. “I truly am sorry. I didn’t know it would bug you, but that’s no excuse. I crossed the line.”

“Apology accepted.” The swirling fire in his eyes calms almost immediately, and we’re left staring at each other in the dimly lit room. With a blink, he surveys my lips, and it becomes wildly noticeable how much privacy we have here. I could walk across the creaky floorboards and straddle his lap. Kiss him the way I told myself I would once the lilac blooms disappeared. And they’relong gone.

“Okay,” I say. The force of his eyes assessing me, with the unwavering attention of a predator, makes it hard to speak.

“Aren’t you going to leave now?” he rasps. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess I am.” I reluctantly pull myself from the chair. Wishing he’d ask me not to go, smash his lips into mine, wrap his strong arms around me.

If he wanted to, he would. And Austin doesn’t.

12

Austin

Thebighouseisstill pitch black when I slowly creep through the front door and down the hall just before four o’clock in the morning. Kate’s become extra murderous about her sleep since becoming pregnant, and I’m not trying to get myself banished by making too much noise. Given the darkness, a strong aroma of fresh coffee comes as a surprise when I walk into the kitchen.

Two tall figures are sitting at the table, barely lit by the moon streaming in through the picture window and dim under-cabinet lighting. I came here early, seeking the quiet solace of a solitary coffee at my family’s heirloom table. Hoping to have my moment and duck out before the rest of the crew show up. Even twelve years after her death, my mom’s birthday isn’t an easy day to get through.

“What are you morons doing?” I whisper yell at my brothers.

“Apparently, Kate said she can hear the buzzing of the overhead light in here.” Denny turns to look at me, his eyes giant and shining. “She does know this is a ranch and we need to be up at ungodly hours for work, right? The least she can do is let us see what we’re doing when we make our morning coffee. Austin, please tell our dipshit brother here that this is completely insane.”

“I’m not going to be the one to risk it, Den.” Thankfully, I’ve memorized the layout of our generational family home well enough I could do everything here blindfolded. I grab a mug, careful not to let the cabinet door creak, and pour until it sounds full enough.

“I don’t see you rushing to flick the light switch,” Jackson whispers to Denny.

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