tea,” Seely said. “It’s a Southern tradition.”
“Sure. Thanks.” I accepted the glass she held out, willing to try one of her traditions. “I don’t need that jacket, Gwen.”
Seely took the old rocker. Gwen sat in the wicker chair that matched mine, laying my jacket across her knees. “If you say so. You know me—I’m always cold.” She studied my face a moment. “You’re right, Seely. He does look better. Hard to believe he’s actually been behaving.”
“I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m incapable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a few years now.” I took a sip of tea. “This is good. So, I guess the two of you have been, uh, getting acquainted?”
Gwen shook her head, grinning. “The look on your face, Ben! It’s easy to see you think the two of us had nothing better to talk about than you. Shame on you.”
“You’ve been talking for over an hour. In my experience, that’s enough time for two women to exchange their life histories and get started on everyone else’s.”
Seely laughed. The rocker creaked as she leaned forward to pat my knee. “Don’t worry. She didn’t spill the beans about your misspent youth.”
Gwen frowned. “I don’t think Ben had a misspent youth. Or much of a youth at all, with the way he had to give up everything when…” Her voice trailed off. Maybe because of the look on my face.
The rocking chair creaked again as Seely leaned back. “Actually, we talked about your house more than you. I love old houses.”
“Yeah?” I relaxed, pleased. “This one isn’t all that old compared to some back east. But around here, homes over fifty years old aren’t common.”
“When was it built?”
“In 1935, but my grandfather used salvaged pieces from older houses where he could. That’s fashionable now, but not too many people were doing it back then. The wainscoting in the entry and the mantel in the living room are about 120 years old. Came from an old bawdy house.”
She laughed. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And the staircase? That looks old.”
“The newel post is over a hundred years old.”
“It’s a grand old house.” She rocked gently a moment. “A pity it’s neglected, but I suppose that’s like the cobbler’s children going barefoot. You’re probably too busy building other people’s homes to have time for your own.”
I sat up straight. “What the hell are you talking about? Everything’s in great shape!”
“I’m sure it is. Maybe neglected was the wrong word. It just doesn’t look like anything has changed much in twenty years.”
I had my mouth open, ready to blast her, when Zach came running up, chanting his mom-mom-mom mantra.
“Good grief, you’re dirty,” Gwen said.
“Yeah. Come see the bug me an’ Doofus found. You, too, Seely,” he said, politely including her in the treat. He and she had settled it earlier that he was to use her first name. “It’s tre-men-duz.”
Lots of things were tre-men-duzlately. I reached for my stick.
Seely stood, put her hand on my good shoulder and asked, with one lifted eyebrow, if I was sure I ought to get up. I scowled at her, but stayed put. “The steps from the deck are tricky for me,” I told Zach. “I’ll sit this bug out.”
Everyone else headed across the yard. Over by the rear gate, Doofus was barking at the pile of dirt he and Zach had created. I assume the bug was there. Seely grinned at Zach and said something I couldn’t make out. Zach giggled. Gwen smiled at him, then tilted her head to speak to Seely.
Seen side by side, the two women couldn’t have looked more different. Gwen was a tidy little thing, her short hair pale and shiny in the sunlight. Seely was at least a head taller. More robust. Brighter, somehow.
I frowned. More irritating, too. What was so great about changing stuff around, anyway? Everything worked. And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t done anything to the place for twenty years. The couch and area rug in the living room were only five years old. Of course, it was Annie who’d nagged me into replacing them, but so what? And maybe they sat in exactly the same spot as the old ones had, but they looked good there.
The deck I was sitting on—I’d added that myself.
Fifteen years ago.
Doofus suddenly tried to catch his tail, and Seely laughed. She had a husky laugh. It made me think of a messy bed, with the sheets dripping to the floor and Seely rising above me, throwing her hair back and laughing just like that…
Whoa. That was weird, fantasizing about Seely with Gwen right next to her. But guilt was stupid. I owed Gwen family loyalty, and that was all. I was allowed to look at other women. In fact, I’d damned well better start looking.
First, though, I had to finish healing. Right now I couldn’t even pick a woman up to take her to dinner. I sighed, thinking of my truck. I needed to find out what kind of hoops the insurance company wanted me to jump through before they’d issue a check.
The phone was sitting on the table beside me. I’d brought it out because I’d been talking to Manny earlier. I’d input dozens of numbers into the directory when I bought the phone a few months ago.
Not everything around here was old, dammit.
Bah. I punched up the directory. Time to put my brain to some kind of productive use.
Gwen slid Zach’s arm into a jacket he didn’t really need. “Seely, it was a pleasure meeting you. No, Ben, sit down. Don’t walk to the car with us.”
I shook my head sadly as I used the walking stick to lever myself upright. “What is it about me being injured that turns everyone into tyrant wannabes?”
Seely chuckled, Gwen grimaced, and Zach wanted to know why he couldn’t take his bug home. To prove I could compromise, I limped to the door with them instead of going all the way to the car. “I guess I’ll see you Saturday, kid.” I ruffled the top of Zach’s head.
He looked puzzled. “Are you goin’, too?”
“Oh, Lord.” Gwen rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. Duncan was going to when he stopped by yesterday, but you were sleeping.”
“Tell me what?”
“Zach was terribly disappointed about missing out on his camping trip with you. Duncan managed to get some time off so he could take him.”
The knife slid in so fast I couldn’t guard against it. I was supposed to be the one who took Zach camping and hiking. I was the one who’d taught Duncan, dammit. Not to mention Charlie and Annie. Our parents hadn’t much cared about that sort of thing, but I did. I always had.
My brother had everything else—why did he have to grab this, too?
“Dad?” Zach sounded uncertain.
So
