“I’m sure he’ll try to borrow money, which, the joke’s on him, I don’t have any. I’m worried he’ll get his hooks into Grandpa again.” In addition to the counseling, Grandpa had paid off Uncle Wayne’s debts, at least twice I knew of. In fact, that was probably why the house was mortgaged and the store was barely above water. Uncle Wayne had owed people a lot of money, the kind of people who would rearrange your face if you didn’t pay. Grandpa had protected him, until criminal charges came along. “I hate that he’s back here!”
“I’ll run that background check ASAP.” Zeke hesitated, then opened his arms like he understood what I needed. “I know you didn’t come here for sex tonight, but… hug?”
“Hell, yes.” I stepped up against him and he grabbed me in a strong, perfect hold. Something inside me, a fierce furious tension that never quit, relaxed in his arms. I bent my face to hisshoulder and inhaled the fabric-softener scent of his sweatshirt and the faint musk and sweat of his body beneath it.
He freed a hand to cup the back of my head, scratching softly through my hair, his touch a comfort. And for a moment, I could breathe again.
That hug couldn’t last. He let go and stepped back. But I felt enough better to smile and say, “Thanks.”
“Anytime. I know about being overwhelmed.”
That made me realize I hadn’t asked. “How are things going with Jos?”
He rocked a hand back and forth. “We’re not butting heads as much, partly because I’m picking my battles. I quit worrying about what he was wearing to school, and he quit choosing the most ragged things he owned. He watches a movie with me now and then, like tonight. But he spends most of his time in his room, or off on his bike. And he’s aloof and sad when he’s not bitching about something. I wish I knew how much is natural grief and when I should worry.”
“A therapist, maybe?”
“I suggested it. He laughed in my face and swore he wouldn’t talk to them and it would be a waste of my money.”
“That sucks. But you can’t make him talk.”
“Right?” Zeke scrubbed a hand over his face. “I feel like I should snoop his social media and his phone, but I know he’d never forgive me.”
“It’s only been, what, a month since his mom died? I was a mess for a long time after my parents passed. And he’s still in elementary, so he’s not likely hanging with a really bad crowd yet. I’d say his trust matters most.” But then I hesitated, because what if I was wrong? What if Zeke believed me and something happened to Jos? “Don’t listen to me. What do I know?”
“More than me. When Mom and Dad divorced, and she went to Europe with her new boyfriend, it was hard, but she wasn’tdead. We Skyped a lot, at first. And I was nineteen and out of the house when Dad passed, so I never had my world upended like Jos did.”
I couldn’t help being curious. “Do you still hear from your mom? She’s kind of Jos’s stepmother, right? Would she have advice?”
Zeke curled his lip dubiously. “We don’t talk much anymore. She hates cops and the military, which was part of why she left my dad. She wanted him to quit, but the service was ingrained in him. When I went to the Police Academy, despite her asking me not to, we drifted apart. She’s a sweet person and a free spirit, but we really have nothing to say to each other.”
“That’s a pity.” Zeke might say he never had his life upended, but it sounded like he’d lost his mother more than he was willing to admit. Then he’d had to see her place taken by Krystal, whom he didn’t seem to miss. “Families are messy, huh?”
“Yeah. Is Wayne your only uncle?”
“On my dad’s side, Grandpa had just Dad and Wayne. My mom had a brother and a sister, but they were a lot older than her, and weren’t close. I met them a few times.” They’d skipped the funeral.
“I’m glad you had your grandpa. I’m grateful he’s been there for Jos too. Jos likes him a lot. He’ll be sad if I have to tell him not to visit around your Uncle Wayne.”
I flinched. “I’d like to say it shouldn’t matter, but… it would be just like Uncle Wayne to say something like, ‘Another orphan begging Dad for crumbs of attention, eh?’ He used to call me ‘the orphan’ behind Grandpa’s back, as a dig I couldn’t fight because it was true.”
“Bastard. Yeah, Jos doesn’t need any extra shit.”
“Maybe get him to invite Grandpa over here.” That idea appealed to me. “For a meal, especially. I don’t think he’s been eating right when I’m not around.” Part of my deciding to movehome had been realizing that Grandpa had lost weight recently, and seeing the kind of food he kept in the kitchen. It was totally normal that he didn’t want to cook at the end of a long day at the store, but the convenience meals of my teens had turned into cold sandwiches and, I suspected, even bowls of cereal when I wasn’t around. I’d taken over a bunch of the cooking, despite my mediocre skills.
“That sounds like a plan. If we can tell Jos it’s for your grandpa’s good, that might motivate him. I’ve been trying to teach him to cook, so added incentive.”
“I’ll tell him I’m learning to cook too. We can work on it together.” Fatigue suddenly swamped me, the slump after too long with adrenaline churning inside me. Between the game, the loss, and Uncle Wayne, I was wiped. I leaned a hip on the counter. “Hey, you said you had a spare bed?”
“Sure do. This way.” He led me into the hall, then hesitated, gesturing to his left. “There’s a ground-floor mother-in-law suite that way, but the bed has no sheets on it. Nice and private, though.”
“I’m literally going to fall over and crash. Privacy is irrelevant, unless I snore too loud for you.”
He grinned. “Do you?”
“Not according to Sully, unless I have a cold.”
“Up here, then.” He led the way upstairs. “Bathroom.” He pointed at the first closed door. “Jos.” Second door. “And this is yours.” He opened the one across the hall to reveal a modest bedroom with a neatly made single. “Bed might be a bit short.”
