Stars & Stripes (4 page)

The building they were here to repair had served as storage for as long as Ty could remember. It had been built into a rocky outcropping on the property, using the side of the mountain as one of its walls. Because of that, it stayed cool almost year-round, but it also had a tendency toward being dark, damp, and full of creepy-crawlies. Ty mostly stayed away from it.

The other three walls were made of two-by-fours and sheet metal, with some scrap siding and cinder blocks to give it that tetanus feeling that kept strangers away from it and its contents.

Ty licked his lips as he examined the failing roof from the front of the building. The tin was rusted through in places, jagged and reddened and full of holes where rain and runoff from the hill had eaten through it. It was possible they could replace a few sheets of the corrugated tin, but more likely they’d need to do the whole thing. The earthen portion of the building had insinuated itself into the structure over the years, and it would be a real bitch to get the tin of the roof out of the soil. It appeared they would have to dig into it.

Of course, if they were going to do it right, that’s what they’d have to do. Mara and Earl had other ideas.

“I think if we just spread this tarp over it, it’ll last a few more years,” Mara said as she dropped the bundle of blue tarp she’d hauled out of the back of her old SUV.

“Tarp?” Deuce said with a frown.

“It’s not like we live in it,” Mara told him. “It’ll keep it dry.”

“Yeah, until the first snow,” Ty said. “Then you’ll be calling me and Deuce, all, ‘Honey, your daddy’s buried under ten feet of snow, can you bring your shovel?’”

“Yeah, I didn’t drive from Philly to help you lay out a tarp.”

“Oh hush, both of you,” Mara said with a wave of her hand.

Earl and Chester both chuckled.

“Really, Ma, you’ve got all the stuff, you’ve got us all here to help, why not just rebuild it now?” Deuce said.

“All right, all right. Earl and Zane stay on the ground. Ty and Deacon can handle the stuff up top.”

“Why does Zane get to stay on the ground?” Ty asked with an accusatory point at his able-bodied partner.

“Because he’s a guest, and we don’t ask guests to risk life and limb.” She thrust a hammer and a plastic container full of nails into Earl’s arms. Then she clapped her hands. “Get to it, boys. We’re burning daylight! And when we take a break later, I’ve got some furniture needs moving.”

Ty and Deuce both groaned as they headed for the rocky slope acting as one of the building’s walls. They’d used the hill to access the roof many times in their youth, when they weren’t supposed to be playing up there but had done so anyway. As Ty scrambled up the incline, it didn’t seem as high as he remembered from when he was ten, but the roof looked much more foreboding.

“Ah, for the fearlessness of youth,” Deuce muttered from the other side of the building. Ty snorted. They sat on the hill above the roof, fighting gravity and erosion as they tried to keep their weight off the perilous-looking tin.

“Just keep to the two-by-fours and you shouldn’t fall through,” Mara called up to them.

Ty and Deuce shared a look.

“Ma, we can’t see where the two-by-fours are from up here,” Ty shouted as he looked over the roof. They could see spots that were rusted through, and others where it looked as if a leaf landing on the metal would cause it to give in.

“They should be where the nails are,” Earl called back. “Just step on the nails.”

“They’ve got to be kidding,” Deuce said under his breath.

Ty slid down the hill closer to the edge of the roof, dampness from the ground seeping into the seat of his jeans. He tapped the toe of his work boot on the nearest line of nails, testing it. “Look at it this way,” he told his brother. “It’s only like an eight foot drop. And any of Dad’s tools that are sharp enough to impale you are in the other shed.”

“You’re a ray of sunshine and optimism, you know that?”

Deuce mimicked Ty’s actions, testing the roof with one foot. They made their way out onto the tin, taking great care to stay on the line of nails that indicated the supporting beams below. “Speaking of optimism, how are things going with you and Zane?”

“Too good to be true,” Ty said as he edged along the narrow line of safety.

“Did you bring him with you for a reason?”

“Stop psychoanalyzing me,” Ty said, sing-song, as he glanced up and then back down at the roof.

“That’s a yes,” Deuce replied in the same tone.

“Maybe it is, but as soon as I stepped through the door, I changed my mind.” Ty continued toward the edge of the building, being less careful than he should have been. “Dad was right, I’m a coward.”

“Bullshit, Ty. You’ll get there.”

Ty glanced at his brother and nodded.

When he reached the edge, he knelt down and smiled crookedly at Zane, giving him a quick wink. Zane returned his smile. Ty almost got lost in it, but he was distracted by his father giving them orders.

“We’re gonna tear the whole thing up and replace anything that’s rotted,” Earl said as he handed Ty a crowbar.

Ty and Deuce both groaned, but they followed with a matching, “Yes, sir.” And then they got to work, yanking up the old tin roof and tossing the pieces down to the ground.

The faster they finished this disaster waiting to happen, the faster Ty could get down there to Zane and work himself up into confessing the truth to his family.

It wasn’t until they were washing up for dinner that Zane was able to get Ty alone, cornering him in the tiny bathroom upstairs. The first thing Zane did was pull Ty to him and kiss him, long and hard, letting Ty’s scent and the feel of him wipe away all the tension he’d built up in the past few days. He pulled Ty close, appreciating every ounce of him, letting himself be turned on by the smell of sweat and damp earth clinging to Ty’s body.

When they parted, Zane’s heart was pounding and Ty was trying to catch his breath.

“I’ve been thinking,” Ty said as he pressed his nose to Zane’s cheek.

“Not your strong suit.”

“Oh, look who’s funny,” Ty said, though he was smiling against Zane’s skin. He pulled back a step to meet Zane’s eyes. “I’m serious. What would you think of telling my parents about us?”

Zane’s heart leapt into his throat. “You want to come out to your mom and dad?”

Ty licked his lips and nodded. “I want you to be part of the family. You deserve that. We deserve it.”

Zane began to smile.

“I just . . . I don’t know how. I don’t know if I have the guts to do it.”

“Baby, I think deciding you want to is a pretty big step. We’ll figure it out.” He kissed Ty languidly, breathless and distracted by the heat growing between them that wouldn’t be addressed soon enough. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“I know what a big deal that is. I know what you’ve been through. Thank you for thinking I’m worth it.”

Ty stared at him for a long moment, then kissed him again, harder. They lingered over it, taking their time, letting themselves enjoy the brief moment.

“You better get cleaned up,” Zane finally said as he pushed Ty away and headed for the door. He didn’t look back. If he did, he and Ty would end up screwing in the shower, and that would be so very hard to explain.

He headed for the landing, meeting Deuce at the top of the stairs with a knowing grin and following him down to the kitchen. Ty wasn’t far behind them. It was a glimpse into what it might have been like to grow up here, to have a family that was so close, a mother who hugged at every opportunity, a brother who was more like an accomplice than a sibling. It made Zane’s stomach cramp to think of all the ways life could have been different.

Ty sat next to him at the table and held his hand as they all bowed their heads to offer thanks for the meal. Zane squeezed his fingers, wanting nothing more than to be able to hold Ty’s hand whenever they wanted. The fact that Ty had broached the subject of telling his family had warmed Zane’s soul in ways he hadn’t known he’d needed. It might take time, but maybe they would get there sooner rather than later.

Zane dug into the delicious dinner, surrounded by warmth and laughter, feeling remarkably at home.

It was a good while later, with dessert on the table, that Mara cleared her throat and reached out to put her hand on Ty’s forearm. “By the way, I told the minister and choirmaster you boys would be at the service in the morning.”

Deuce and Ty groaned in unison.

“Hey, I’d get to hear you sing,” Zane said, perking up. “Something besides the national anthem and the Battle Hymn.”

Ty growled at him, then looked at his mother. “They have a perfectly good choir. I’m sure they don’t need us.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Deuce asked with a jerk of his thumb at Earl. “He doesn’t sing with his fingers.”

Mara narrowed her eyes at them both.

“Okay, okay,” Ty conceded, holding up both hands. “We’ll sing.”

Deuce grumbled but didn’t argue. The brothers locked eyes and seemed to communicate silently, devising a way out of it. Mara was too pleased to notice.

“As long as Dad sings with us,” Ty added with a shit-eating grin at his father.

Earl rolled his eyes.

“Whatever it takes,” Mara said. She stood and went to the refrigerator. “All of you shitheads need Jesus so far as I’m concerned.”

Zane almost choked on his tea.

“That includes you,” Mara told him. She sat back down with a dish of whipped cream, and Zane waved a hand in acknowledgment as he tried to clear his throat.

Ty was laughing beside him. He patted Zane’s knee under the table and squeezed, resting his hand there. Zane’s eyes were watering, and his cheeks were warm with a shade of embarrassment, but it was okay. Par for the course with the Gradys.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room for coffee. Zane sat on one end of the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. The weather had turned drizzly toward the end of the afternoon and dropped the temperature a little low, even for late June in the mountains. The windows were open, letting in the breeze and the scent of rain.

It was a pretty scene, homey and comfortable. For all that the Gradys had bickered over the construction of the new roof and made fun during dinner, they seemed to enjoy the verbal battles, and there was no tension or malice in the air. Zane could feel weariness encroaching as the breeze and familiar scents seeped into him.

He sat slouched with one arm outstretched off the end of the couch, his fingertip brushing a little cut-glass figurine on the table. It reflected the light as he nudged it, watching it sparkle.

Ty sat on the floor, leaning back against the couch and looking exhausted. Deuce lounged on the other end of the sofa, his feet up on a stool in front of him. Earl and Mara sat on the loveseat across the room. They cuddled together, Mara curled in the crook of Earl’s arm draped over the back of the loveseat. For a couple who’d been together so long and seemed to lack any sentimentality about their marriage, it was an oddly sweet thing. Zane had never seen his parents cuddling.

Deuce groaned. “Ma, what sort of pie was that?” He was rubbing his stomach.

“Bitter cherry. Lucy Hopewell had one at the potluck a week back, and I thought I might try it. It wasn’t good?”

“It was good, Ma,” Ty said, voice flat.

“Where do you get bitter cherries?” Deuce asked.

“Disgruntled trees,” Ty said. He looked over his shoulder with a smirk.

Earl barked a laugh and Mara gave a surprised giggle. Zane studiously kept his eyes on the figurine, biting his lip as laughter shook through him.

Deuce glared at Ty, but Ty returned the look with wide-eyed innocence. “Maybe they need a shrink.”

“I hate you.”

Chester cackled and shook his head. He rocked in his chair, facing the couch from the other side of the fireplace, drinking from a mason jar of clear liquid that Ty had implied was some incredible moonshine. He watched the glass figurine as Zane played with it.

“I gave that to my wife on our fiftieth Christmas together,” he announced, looking at the little angel with a melancholy fondness.

Zane let his head fall to the side as he watched the light play off the glass. “I bet she loved it.”