Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths #4)(106)

“Don’t tell me . . .” A broad smile stretches across Rob’s face. “Benjy has as girlfriend?”

Fuck, I always hated that name. It makes me feel like a dog. Which I’ve been called many times before, but for different reasons. “Just a friend.” I shoot Mama an exasperated look, but she has picked up her cards again and is studying them intently, an impish smile on her mouth.

It doesn’t matter. Jake and Rob are already at it.

“What kind of girl could tie this ass**le down?”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Do you think she can do basic math?”

“Fake tits or real?” Jake got two slaps across the head and a kick under the table for that question, from every female within reach.

I stand and stretch my hand over my head but manage to get a hand down to block Jake’s fist sailing for my stomach. Stepping out of his reach, I wrap my arms around Rita, resting my hands on her belly. Up until my friend Storm got pregnant, I don’t remember ever touching a woman’s pregnant belly. “When should we tell him about us, Rita?” I say, putting on my best obnoxious grin as I watch Jake’s face turn red.

“Get the f**k away from her!” he yells, but he’s laughing.

Everyone’s laughing. Even Mama’s trying hard not to, her head shaking, no doubt over the language. I think she has given up for tonight, though.

And I grin. For so many reasons. It’s good to have everyone here.

Almost everyone.

“Where’re you going? We’re in the middle of a game!” Elsie whines.

“I’m going to see what the mature brother is up to.” Josh just got in about an hour ago and he’s spent most of that time in the barn.

“Tell him to come back inside,” Mama asks. “We’re gonna lose power as soon as the storm hits.” It’s pretty much a guarantee.

I round the corner just as Jake says, “Did Ben actually find someone stupid enough to—Ow! Who kicked me that time?”

Seeing the oldest Morris boy standing in the middle of the barn sets my hairs on end. It’s like bringing Joshua Morris Senior back to life and hitting rewind twenty years. Right down to the piercing, hard eyes.

“Hey,” I call out, holding my breath a little as I cross over the invisible barrier between the outside world and my father’s realm. I still don’t like being in here, even after a week of cleaning and airing the place out and changing all the lights. The dampness in the air with the approaching storm only makes the stench of wood thicker.

Josh turns to look at me, his face blank. Not only is he the spitting image of our dad, he also shares his demeanor. He was the quiet, serious one growing up. A bit of a recluse, preferring solitary hobbies like working on engines. He’s the one who taught me how to fix Granddaddy’s tractor.

“Hey, Ben,” he says somberly. After a pause, he steps forward and wraps his arms around my body, surprising me with a hug. Given our seven-year age difference and our polar opposite personalities, we’ve never been close. “I’m glad you were here when it happened.” Stepping away, he slides his hands into his back pockets, his eyes roaming the vaulted ceiling. “I forgot how big this barn is.”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t believe some of the shit I found hidden in here.” At least fifty empty bottles of whiskey tucked into various corners, along with countless packs of stale cigarettes—I didn’t even know Dad smoked—and some dirty magazines from the seventies—probably our granddaddy’s—that I shoved into Jake’s suitcase as a joke.

“I’ll bet,” he mutters to himself. “What do you think finally made him do it?”

“Mama was going to leave him.”

Josh turns to look at me, the shock on his face readable by anyone. “Really?”

“I heard it with my own two ears. She was done.” I hesitate, not sure if I want to admit the rest. “I heard him cry.”

Understanding flickers through Josh’s eyes as he turns back to the piece of black walnut that’s got Dad’s DNA in it. I had stood over it with a chainsaw earlier this week but couldn’t bring myself to cut it up. “I cried when Karen left me, even though I deserved it.”

I shake my head. “I don’t get it, Josh. You hated Dad for what he did to Mama—so much that you haven’t been here in eight f**king years!—and yet you turned around and did the same thing.”

“I know.” His cheek puffs out as his tongue pushes against the wall of his mouth. “I had it all and I threw it away. I wish I had a good reason, but I don’t.” He pauses. “I wonder, if Mom had kicked him out all those years ago, if maybe he would have gotten help . . . Maybe none of this—”

“I hear where you’re going with this and I don’t f**king like it one bit, Josh.” I feel my back getting stiff as I stand tall. “Don’t you ever try and lay blame on Mama. All she did was love that ass**le too much.”

“I’m not blaming her, I’m just . . .” His voice drifts off as he walks a circle. “I’m doing this whole twelve-step thing right now and I’m supposed to say I’m sorry. I’ve got a whole lotta things to be sorry for. I’m sorry I haven’t been here to help. I’m sorry I turned my back on Mom.”