Five Ways to Fall (42 page)

She starts giggling as she moves past me, her arm brushing against mine. “No way! I was a scrawny little kid back then.”

And you’re not anymore.
Is that what she’s hoping I’ll notice, wearing those tight black shorts? Point made.

“Can you please help me reach those ones?” she asks coyly, standing beneath a branch that extends out above her head. Her hands stretch up enough to lift her shirt, showing off a belly ring.

It instantly makes me thing of Reese. Reese doesn’t have a belly ring. Why doesn’t she have one? That seems to be the standard prerequisite before women move on to the more adventurous locations.

“Ben?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” Peeling my eyes away from her piercing, I give my head a shake and shift over to gently pull the branch down. There’re plenty of ripe fruit within her reach. There’s no need for this whole orchestrated move of hers, where she’s standing well within my personal space, facing me, a small smile touching her lips, her eyes on me more than the task at hand.

If the girl knows me, then she knows exactly what I’m like. I never bothered to hide that fact from anyone. I have a strong suspicion that if I wanted to get laid right now, this girl is as good as naked.

There’s only one problem.

She’s not Reese.

Fuck
 . . . what is happening to me?

Am I actually turning this down?

Yes.

Yes, I am.

“Listen, I’m going to take the truck and head back. I’ve got some things I need to take care of.” Her face crumbles with disappointment, obviously realizing that this eight-year campaign of hers isn’t going to come to an epic conclusion in the grove today. Just in case she decides to throw herself at me—because I’ve had that happen before—I let the branch snap back up in the air as I take several steps backward. “Mama will be back out with the truck soon.” I don’t wait for her answer before I’m climbing in the pickup and hauling ass back home.

“Did you know that Lorna’s daughter has had a crush on me since she was fourteen?” I ask Mama as I jump out of the driver’s seat, back at the house. “’Cause anyone can see that.”

“Did Hayley find you all right?” She keeps her eyes focused on the planters she’s watering.

“Yeah, Mama. She found me,
all right
.”

“She’s a pretty girl, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I shake my head. “What’s goin’ on with you? One minute you’re trying to marry me off to Reese, the next you’re setting a blond trap for me!” A slow smile stretches across Mama’s face until it’s taking up most of the real estate. I don’t know that I’ve seen her this happy in a long time. “But you didn’t get caught in it, did you?”

“What the hell, Mama! Did you really want me to?”

The water pouring out from her watering wand dies in a dribble as her smile morphs into an exasperated glare. “I wanted you to see for yourself how Reese has changed you, son. Had you never met Reese, what would have happened out there?”

I’d have that girl bent over the side of the wagon right now
—
that’s what would have happened.
My brows spike as I take in Mama’s expectant stare. Does she want details?

“Oh, Benjamin.” She waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve raised four Morris boys and dealt with your father for years. I’m no idiot. Those ladies at the drugstore always got a hoot out of me, filling my cart up with condoms for my
active
children.”

I smirk, remembering Jake and me walking into each other’s rooms the first time, holding out the boxes of condoms we’d each found on our nightstand. We figured out pretty quickly who had delivered them, seeing as our dad didn’t give a shit. Mama earned the nickname of the Trojan Fairy. Behind her back, of course. There was an unspoken agreement—Mama didn’t mention it to us and we didn’t say a word to her. From then on, we’d just leave a note on our nightstands when we were out, and a new box would appear a few days later, along with a note telling us that she didn’t condone this behavior and to be safe.

With a heavy sigh, I hang my head as I resign myself to the fact that Mama’s right. Reese has done something to me. “Well, I’m not going back out there, so you’d better rescue her with the truck or she’ll be grinding the gears of the tractor to get back. I doubt that girl can handle a stick.”

Not that kind, anyway.

“How are you possibly
bigger
!” Elsie says with a laugh as I throw her tiny body over my shoulder with no effort.

“I’m not. You’ve just started shrinking in your old age,” I tease, grabbing her bag with my free hand and carrying her toward the porch like a sack of potatoes.

She starts playing the bongos on my back with her hands. “Okay, seriously, Ben. Put me down.”

“Or what?”

There’s a long pause as her impish mind searches for something she has on me. She’s a lot like me in that regard. “Or I’ll tell this girlfriend of yours that you used to pretend you were Patrick Swayze from
Dirty Dancing
and you memorized all the dance moves.”

“Reese has got way worse material on me than that.” I drop her suitcase and swing her down off my shoulder to take in her cute face. She looks so much like a younger version of Mama—but with long, curly chestnut hair—that it’s crazy. “And she’s not my girlfriend, Elsie.”

“That’s not what Mom says.” She laughs at me as I roll my eyes and shake my head. I think I’m the only one of us that still calls her Mama. Reese is right. I do milk the youngest child thing for all it’s worth.

Elsie’s smile falters as her eyes dart to the barn. “It’s so weird to be back here, Ben. It’s been so long. Everything looks the same but it’s not anymore, is it?” She was already in college when my dad’s accident happened. We talked on the phone a lot after but she never came back. Of all of us, my sister has been gone from here the longest. She flew in to Miami to see me after my knee injury five years ago, when I was high on Percocet and hostility over a future lost. Aside from a trip out West to visit her three years ago, I haven’t seen her in person since.

“How is she doing?” I know they’ve stayed close, even though Elsie has refused to come out here. But still, not seeing your mom face to face for almost five years is crazy.

Before I can answer, the front door creaks open. We turn to see Mama step out, wiping her hands on her apron. She’s been in the kitchen all day. Whatever she’s making, it involves a lot of flour because she’s got white powder all over her cheeks and her chin.

That doesn’t dissuade Elsie from taking off immediately, running like a little kid into Mama’s outstretched arms, the sound of their cries filling the late afternoon air.

How’s Warner?

I lie back in bed, watching the screen on my phone, expecting Reese to be asleep but hoping that she’s not. Since Mama’s “experiment” with Hayley, I’ve pulled my phone out a dozen times to check in with Reese for . . . nothing, really. Just to say hi, to make her laugh, to have her make me laugh. But I could never decide what to say. Normally, I don’t know when to shut up.

The indicator changes to “read,” making my stomach do a flip.
Fuck
 . . . I’m acting like a chick.

A few seconds later:

The law bot came looking for you in my office this morning. I’ve buried her body under your desk. You’ll have to clean that up when you get back.

My snort cuts into the quiet room.

Tell Mason. He’s better at cleaning than I am.

How is it up there?

Women are throwing themselves at me. You better get here quick.

I wait and wait and . . . it says “read,” but there’s no answer coming. I’m expecting some snide remark, calling me a pig or something. But the longer I wait, the more I’m starting to think that was a boneheaded thing to say. I
do
wish she’d just drop everything and race up tonight, but now she probably thinks I’m up here screwing girls.

Does she care, though?

I hesitate for just a second and then type out:

The funeral’s on Friday. Mama wants you to come.

I wait. She’s read it.

Still no answer.

“Fuck!”

I guess that came out a little too loud, because there’s a knock on my door a moment later. “You’re not doing anything gross in my old room, are you?” Elsie asks.

“I wish!” I holler back.

“Are you decent? Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” I make sure my sheets are covering the vitals as the door creaks open and my sister walks in.

“What’s wrong?” Elsie always seemed to like being smack dab in the middle of four brothers. Josh and Rob harassed the guys at school for looking at their “cute little sister,” but then she’d turn around and do the same for Jake and me, playing the protective sister. The funny thing is, in the end all four of us were protecting her. She was in the middle of a big Morris sandwich, with brothers chasing off assholes from all angles.

“Ah, nothing. I’m just an idiot.”

Crawling onto the bed, she falls back to share my pillow. “Who are you texting?”

“Reese.”

“Ah yes. The
friend
who visits your mother with you on weekends and spends the night in the same bed.”

I shrug. “This is me we’re talking about, remember?”

She rolls her eyes. “How could I forget? All of my senior friends were asking me to hook them up with my dorky freshman brother.”

“I wasn’t so dorky to them, was I? How’s Shelley Armstrong, by the way? You still talk to her?” Shelley was Elsie’s hot best friend in high school.

There’s a pause and then, “That wasn’t a rumor?”

I feel the wide grin stretch across my face. “At Butcher’s party after the homecoming game. It earned me legendary status with the guys pretty quick.”

“She lied to me!” Elsie punches me in the arm. “You’re lucky I love you so much, you pig.”

“Funny. That’s what Reese calls me. You two would probably get along well.”

I feel her eyes on me. “Is she the reason you turned down Miss Florida today?”

“What?” I feel my brow pinch.

“Hayley Parker? She won the state beauty pageant last year.”

“Seriously? . . . Huh.” Picturing those legs, I mumble. “Not surprised. She definitely wasn’t looking to solve world peace out there today, though—I can tell you that much.”

Elsie snorts. “I couldn’t believe it when Mom told me you were back within five minutes of her sending Hayley out. That sealed the deal in her eyes. Her little Benjamin’s in
love
,” she croons.

“That didn’t mean anything,” I deny, though everyone under this roof seems to know I’m lying. “Hell, I just lost my father yesterday. I’m just not in the mood.”

She barks out with laughter, sounding a lot like me. “Oh, bullshit! Do you remember when Cheechee died?”

“Of course I do! Man, I loved that dog. He was the best.” I still remember the way my stomach hit the ground as I was rounding the bend in the road, closing out a five-mile run, and found his broken, still body lying on the shoulder. He had been hit by a car.

“Exactly. You carried that dog all the way up the driveway in your arms, bawling your eyes out.”

“We all cried. Even Josh!” Our oldest brother was never big on showing emotion.

“But you sure weren’t crying later that night at that party, when I found you in the back of some girl’s car with her head in your lap.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh yeah. She was consoling me. You should have seen the look on your face.” That was the problem with all of us being so close in age. We went to a lot of the same parties and knew all the same people.

Elsie rolls her eyes. “Well, then don’t tell me you would have had a problem getting into the mood with a beauty queen when a man you hate is finally dead.”

It’s a somber reminder of why she’s here, stifling our laughter.

“And what would Mama have done if I had gone for it?”

Elsie starts giggling. “She said she was going to drive out in the dune buggy and beat your ass if you weren’t back within half an hour.”