Real Men Knit(9)

Jesse’s eyes went skyward before landing back on her mischievously and giving her a half smile. “Well, I don’t know—do I?”

She looked at him deadpan and they stared at each other in a mini-standoff for about three seconds.

Jesse blinked first and sighed. “Well, I guess I’ve gotten my orders,” he said to Damian before looking back at Kerry with what could have been a hint of admiration. “Look at you, Kerry Girl.”

Maybe not. The Kerry Girl comment skated on the edge of grating, but she’d let it pass, for now. Instead of stinging, for the first time that damned nickname actually soothed her in a weird kind of way. Still, she raised a brow. “It would seem you have, so get going. The day isn’t getting any longer.”

Jesse turned and headed out of the kitchen and back up the stairs while Kerry forced herself not to focus on his alluring back view.

“Who would’ve thought you had it in you?”

Damian’s words came smooth and matter-of-factly from over her shoulder but hit like a shot.

Kerry turned. He was leaning casually against the counter, coffee cup back in his hand as he sipped, and stared at her with those penetrating eyes of his. “Had what?” she asked, picking up her own, now cold, coffee and going to place it in the microwave. She pressed a few buttons and awaited Damian’s answer. “Well?”

“Had so much gumption, I mean. In all these years I’ve barely heard you utter more than a few words put together, and never with such forcefulness. What’s gotten into you?”

Kerry fought to get ahold of both her composure and her thoughts as the microwave dinged. What had gotten into her? What should it matter to her if the brothers fought? That was their business now. Mama Joy was gone and today they were getting together to decide how to handle her affairs. She was, or in a short while would no longer be, the hired help. She internally winced, but she knew she needed to be real now, at least with herself.

There was a lot to consider. Or, correction, the four guys had a lot to consider. Though the property was small, being a four-story brownstone storefront, the fact that it was prime Harlem real estate gave the brothers plenty to think over. In the end, the brothers would most likely close the shop, sell the property, and split whatever was left after the bank got their cut between the four of them. Each going their own way, only to get together every once in a while, on the odd birthday or holiday.

Just thinking of it brought a painful ping to Kerry’s heart. There would come a time in the not-so-distant future where they would be nothing more than a fond memory to her. And, well, who knew if they would ever think of her at all, fondly or not. She blinked quickly, careful not to look Damian’s way.

She wouldn’t cry again. She was determined not to. So instead she took a gulp of her coffee and ignored that its taste had gone sour and thanks to the microwave it was now way too hot. She swallowed the scorching brew anyway. Anything to counter these feelings, and right now a burning tongue beat a teary eye.

“I’ve talked plenty over the years,” she said between hot sips. “It’s just that you all weren’t listening. Not that it matters.” And it didn’t, she thought as she put the hot coffee down and busied herself by now shifting the never-ending dishes on the counter, opening and closing the fridge, playing an odd game of jigsaw, then finally pulling out a platter to use for serving later. Calmer and more composed, when she next spoke, it was with a lower tone. “Look, I know it’s not any of my business, but I do know that it would make Mama Joy—”

“Mama Joy is dead,” Damian said, cutting her off.

“Well, her memory, then,” she gritted out, “happy if you guys would just get along. Especially now. As brothers, like she always wanted for you all. More than anything, that meant so much to her.”

She looked up when all she got from Damian was silence.

He stared at her for way longer than was comfortable before finally speaking. “What the hell is all this talk about memories? What good will that do any of us now? She was here and now she’s gone. Anything more than that doesn’t matter.”

She stared back at him, then snorted. The snort came out purely by accident, but he was being classic Damian right now. His wall was up and, he thought, firmly in place. But she could see the cracks. With him there was always a crack. “If you say so. But does it matter what you say or what you can see? We all know what she believed and what she wanted.”

Once again, Kerry found herself playing a game of chicken.

Shit. She didn’t sign up for all this drama so early in the morning. Finally, he blinked. “Well, hey, at least you put a low fire under the unmovable Jesse.” He gave her a salutatory nod that was still condescending. “And for that I have to give you credit. It would seem that you learned a lot more from Mama Joy over the years than just knitting. I guess I can call a truce at least for that.”

He was being a total ass, but Kerry smiled, the memory of the old shop’s proprietor seeping into her mind and telling her to give him this one. “You’d be surprised at what I’ve picked up.”

Just then the front buzzer chimed, and they both turned at the interruption. Two men stood outside. They were light and dark, almost mirror images of each other. There was Lucas with his pale creamy skin, sharp nose, rosebud lips and heavily lidded, deep-set eyes, which most days he kept covered by either shades or his long bangs when he was not on duty at the local firehouse. Then there was Noah, his younger brother. Noah had about two inches on Lucas in height and was two shades deeper in color. Though he wasn’t a weight-lifting gym rat like his brother, he did his working out on dance rehearsal floors, so neither of the two were slouches in the body or looks department. The funny thing was that most people never put the two together as biological brothers even though they looked practically the same. Still, even in this day and age, their skin tone difference tripped many up and they placed the brothers as nonbiological just like Damian and Jesse.