I wanted more moans and raspy laughs, more begging.
I’d demanded things from her. I’d never done that before with a woman. But something told me—maybe it was the defiance I’d seen in her eyes—that Roxanne might’ve been just as comfortable serving the demands as she was obeying them. She definitely liked me giving them, though.
I didn’t think my dick could get any harder, but then I almost dumped my coffee on my keyboard when, behind me, Merv said, “You coulda called to tell me you weren’t comin’ home last night.”
She stood in the doorway in her bathrobe and pajamas, cradling her own coffee in her hands, and if the sound of my mother’s voice wasn’t a boner deflator, I had no clue what would be.
“Jesus, Merv!” The coffee splashed and swirled around my mug’s rim, but I managed to keep it inside the ceramic. One drop sloshed onto my Enter key, but I wiped it away with my finger.
She didn’t chastise me for cursing or calling her Merv. It would take a lot more than that for her to scold a man, even one of her children, especially me because I’d kept myself apart from my siblings all these years.
“Sorry, son. Did I startle you? It’s just nice to have you home again. You stayed away too long, so I don’t think you can blame me for takin’ the opportunity to catch up with you in the mornin’ like we used to. I feel like I barely know you anymore.”
Guilt clenched in my gut, but then the absurdity of the situation dawned on me fully: me living with my mother again at the age of thirty-seven and concocting X-rated images of the woman I’d hooked up with, thinking about hiding in the bathroom to jack off like I was fifteen, while Merv lurked behind me, demanding to know why I’d stayed out past curfew.
I didn’t respond to address the angry elephant in the room, so Merv moved on. “Abey texted to tell me you and her deputy found that girl. If it wasn’t for your little sister, I would’ve thought you were dead.”
“Well, I’m not,” I said, turning in the chair to face her now that there was no danger of her seeing the bulge in my pants that had quickly fled from the house in horror. Thank God. “And yes, Deputy Roxanne and I did find Natalie. A group of us did.”
“She okay? She hadn’t been murdered or killed by a grizzly?”
I shook my head, although the possibility of the grizzly wasn’t that far-fetched. “No. She was pretty banged up and scared. Did Abey tell you about the wolf?”
Merv shook her head so I retold the tale. “It was a pretty extraordinary thing to see, but Natalie was okay. She has a broken ankle and was probably dehydrated, but the paramedics thought she’d be fine once they got her to the hospital. I was thinkin’ about sendin’ flowers from the family. You wanna pick some out for us?”
Merv’s face brightened. “That’s real kind of you, son. I’d love to.”
It was enough to distract her from the hunt she’d been about to go on to find out where I’d stayed last night, or who I stayed with, which was exactly the redirect I had intended.
Sleep eluded me.
I needed more than three hours, but I hadn’t taken a nap since I was probably twelve years old, so I worked as long as I could, made several phone calls, and finished some paperwork, but when my eyes blurred and the only thing between my ears was static, I stood and stretched.
I wanted to check on the slow progress of Lee’s Spitfire Inn. We wouldn’t open to the public until next summer at the earliest, but a lot of the groundwork had recently been laid. Bea was running the project for me, but it would be good to check in.
Brisk afternoon air and warm autumn sun jolted some life back into me when I stepped onto the porch, so I walked again.
Late September was maybe the best time to be in the Tetons. The days were all bright blue skies and mild temperatures, but nights were cold, perfect for sitting by a fire or an evening walk through town. As I had the thought, I snorted to myself when it occurred to me that Tab was right—I really was turning into an old man.
Far-off trees rustled, but I could see and hear the glowing yellow leaves of ancient Quaking Aspens in the soft wind. Mountains stood proud and tall around my family’s land, their dark crags and valleys like rocky shoehorns from my childhood trying to make me fit and belong here again as memories came at me like automatic gunfire, one right after another.
Working with my old man had been a misery I wanted to continue to forget, but it wasn’t those memories bombarding me now. Instead, I remembered the first time my sister had driven an ATV and the joy showing on her face that day when she only flipped it once. I remembered the first time Bax and I had shorn a sheep by ourselves and the pride we’d felt. Birthdays and Christmases came back to me in vivid detail.
Dixon’s buck-toothed smile when he’d learned to swim in Lee Lake was a memory seared into my brain because Bax and I had been the ones to teach him.
But as I walked, the happy memories of my little brother faded, and all I could see in my mind was the last time I’d spoken to him over FaceTime before he’d left Wisper, before Stuey had come along and Dixon had dropped his kid like a hot potato.
Dixon had called me in the middle of a workday up in Sheridan, but I’d just finished eating my lunch and had a few minutes to spare, so I answered. Just the fact that his name had appeared on my phone’s screen should’ve clued me in that something was really wrong with my brother. He rarely called or touched base with any of us. I’d heard Merv make a comment here or there when I talked to her occasionally. Abey had openly worried about Dixon back then, and Bax had been alone in his own world after the sudden loss of his first wife.
And I’d been so wrapped up with my own worries and business that I didn’t see it. I didn’t see how thin Dixon had become, or how distracted. He’d called just to tell me he missed me. There were several awkward silences during the call, but still, all I had been able to think about was getting off the phone so I could finish whatever task I’d started before lunch.
I should’ve known he was crying out for help, that he had an addiction, and the guilt I felt now stole my breath.
If I’d just talked to him. If only I’d taken the time to really listen to him, maybe he wouldn’t be a ghost in our family. He could’ve died, and we would’ve had no idea.
I thought about that fateful FaceTime call while I continued down the gravel lane that led to the center part of the property, and how, after Abey told me her fear that Dixon had become addicted to heroin, I’d tried to throw money at the problem. I offered to pay for rehab, but I hadn’t bothered to call my brother back to tell him I was there for him, that I still loved him no matter the mistakes he’d made.
Maybe I could’ve driven home and gone on a walk with him like the one I was taking now. Maybe then he would’ve told me his secret and I could’ve done something to help him.
