Page 82 of Her Favorite Fumble
Nick knew heshouldgo to bed, but he also knew he was just going to toss and turn half the damn night. He didn’t think a beer would help, but it probably wouldn’t hurt. And he probably wasn’t going to be very good company, but Gray already knew that, so it was on him.
“Why do we do this on the front porch?” Nick asked once they were settled into the comfortably padded chairs. “The whole backyard is set up for sitting around, talking.”
“I don’t know why. But remember how Mom and Dad always sat out here when they wanted quiet time? I think the backyard was always about cookouts and kids playing and adults socializing, and I don’t remember them ever sitting out here with friends. That was always out back. So, I think this is just the quiet family place.”
Nick nodded, because as he sifted through old memories, Gray was right. The front porch had always been for quiet, private conversation.
“How’s Lucy doing?” Gray asked, popping the bubble of warm, fuzzy nostalgia.
“Okay, I guess. And thanks again for your help getting her car back home.”
He’d driven Lucy’s car back to Helen’s while Gray drove Nick’s truck, and the first thing he’d noticed were the bins in the back seat. And when he’d set the bag of sugar on the passenger seat, it had rested on top of a shiny new road atlas, on which she’d probably map her route to Miami.
He’d made the drive surrounded by the evidence of Lucy preparing to leave town, and he’d had to fake every smile he’d given the two women for the few minutes he’d been in Helen’s house. He’d handed over the keys and the sugar. And he’d turned down the invitation to stay for dinner on the pretext Gray had somewhere he had to be.
“Have you even asked her to stay?” Gray asked, snatching his attention back.
“What?”
“Have you even asked her to stay?” he repeated patiently. “And save me your stoic big brother act, please.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You might be putting on a whole just-friends-who-were-roomies-for-a-bit act around town, but we know you, Nick. You’re into her in a way we’ve never seen you into a woman before.”
“She’s going to Miami. That’s always been her plan.”
“Plans change.”
“It’s none of your business.”
Gray made a humming sound. “It kind of is.”
“It’s definitely not.”
“We live with the fact you gave up your dream of playing pro ball because Dad died and we weren’t old enough to do the work. And Mom hadn’t had a job outside of doing Dad’s paperwork for years. She couldn’t have earned enough to keep this roof over our heads and feed three teen boys. And we know you gave up a dream coaching job when Mom got sick. And yes, you did it for Mom, but you also did it for us.”
“I don’t haveanyregrets,” Nick shot back. “I would make the same choices every single time.”
“And that’s fine, but what we’renotgoing to do is let you give up Lucy because of—” he stopped and waved his hand around “—any of this. Us. The house. The company. If you want to go to Miami with her, go. We can run the business without you. We don’t want to, but wecan. And if you’re telling yourself anything different, you’re not only screwing yourself over, but you’re insulting the hell out of us.”
“I would hate Miami.”
“Maybe. Maybe not, especially if Lucy’s there. Or, again, you could ask her to stay. I assume you haven’t because, well, you’re you. Putting yourself last.”
“I’m not putting myself last. I’m putting her first, and yes, there’s a difference. She’s wanted to do this thing in Miami for a long time. It’s her dream, and she has a friend there who’s already in the business. It’s a perfect opportunity for her.”
“I still think you should ask her,” Gray said. “Nick, you know better than anybody that dreams change. But they don’t always change because something bad happens. Sometimes they change for good reasons.”
“If her dream had changed, I doubt she’d be in the process of packing her car up, with a brand-new Rand McNally on the passenger seat.”
“You’ll regret not asking.”
“I’ll live with it.”
“Hey,” Theo yelled out of his open second-floor window. “Since we’re having all the serious conversations tonight, Beck and I have been talking, and we think it’s time to change the name of the company to Slater Brothers Construction.”
“Do you know how much it would cost to redo everything?” Nick shouted back.
