Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths #4)(98)

“Elsie should be here this afternoon. Rob and Jake will be here Wednesday with their families. Josh, not until late Thursday. He can’t afford to lose time with work.” My oldest brother—my father’s namesake and arguably a chip off the old block—works as a crane operator in Chicago. At least he’s admitted that he has a drinking problem and is trying to get help. The medical bills, coupled with child support and alimony, mean he’s struggling to make ends meet in a shitty studio apartment in one of Chicago’s less desirable areas.

“It’s gonna to be a full house.”

“I know.” Mama smiles sadly. “It’s been a long time since I could say that.” She holds out a plate of cake. “Here, have some of this. We have twenty more waiting inside.”

“Neighbors have been good to us.” I gladly reach out and grab a piece, stuffing it into my mouth.

“It’s delicious, isn’t it?”

I moan in response. I never turn down sweets, though I probably should. If I ever stop working out, I’ll end up with a gut like Jack’s in no time.

“Hayley made it.”

“Who’s Hayley?” Crumbs fly out of my mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mama scolds. “Lorna’s daughter. She’s coming by to help pick. Yesterday’s harvest went over to the packing place this morning. They’ll be on the road by this afternoon.”

At least that’s taken care of. I still can’t believe Reese was out there that long, filling those crates. I could kiss her for it. Hell, I could kiss her for anything, but that’s as good an excuse as any.

There’s a pause. “There’s always room here for one more.”

I shoot her a confused look.

“Reese, son,” she clarifies with an exasperated sigh. “Why don’t you invite her to come up and stay with us.”

“Well, for one thing, because she works full time. Plus, why would she want to hang out here for an entire week while we get ready for a funeral?”

She takes a small sip of her tea. “Something tells me she would.”

Of course. Which brings me to what I haven’t had a chance to say earlier. “Mama, you’ve gotta stop telling people that Reese is my girlfriend.”

“Oh, did that slip out accidentally?” She makes a show of dusting crumbs off her hand, her eyes averted.

“Just once or twice,” I mock softly, leaning back into my chair to stretch my feet out. “We’re just friends. I don’t need things to get confusing by putting labels on it.”

“You think the label’s going to change what’s going on?” I catch her lips curl into a smile, as if she knows some secret, but she hides it behind another sip. What the hell did those two women talk about out there yesterday? It was a sly move on Mama’s part. One minute she’s in the kitchen. Then I head to the can and she’s gone when I come out.

“How was dropping her off last night? Did your boss say anything about you two?”

“He offered his condolences and told me that family comes first.”

“Hmm . . . sounds like a good man,” she murmurs.

“Yeah, he is.” And I’m starting to feel guilty for what I’m doing with his stepdaughter, especially after our talk. He must have figured it out by now.

“Well, I’ve booked the funeral for Friday. Pastor Phillips said he can do it. I don’t want to bother with a visitation. I don’t expect many people . . .” Her voice drifts off and her gaze becomes distant.

“Not for him, anyway.” As soon as I see her flinch at my words, I regret it. I’ve been really careful not to talk like that, not to let any of my feelings come out. It only hurts her.

Reaching out, I take her hand in mine. “I’m going to phone the insurance company today and get everything sorted out. Okay?”

She nods slowly. “I didn’t realize how expensive funerals have become.”

“Don’t worry about that, Mama. I’ve got money to cover that until the insurance pays out.”

“Oh, I can’t take your—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

She peers up at me. “How’d I get so lucky to have a son like you?”

Getting up, I kiss her again. “Because you raised me to be like this. And because I made a lot of money taking care of naked women at Penny’s.”

“Oh, Ben.” She shakes her head but then starts to laugh softly.

“I’ll be out in the grove. Call my cell if you need anything.”

As I’m walking through the door and into the kitchen, Mama calls out, “I’d like Reese to come to the funeral. Do you think she’d come?”

I shake my head with resignation, knowing what the woman is up to. “I’m not sure, Mama. I’ll ask her.”

The familiar rumble and squeaky brakes of the farm truck comes to a stop behind the tractor. Assuming it’s Mama, I don’t bother turning around.

“Ben?” My name rolls off an unfamiliar female voice.

Turning on my heels, I watch a twenty-something-year-old girl with white-blond hair and mile-long legs slide out of the truck.

Slamming the heavy door shut, she walks forward, her hand out. “I’m Hayley Parker. I’m here to help pick.”