the why Tucker’s Point sucks column. “Old news.”
By the time Sandy got Noah out of his seat, the baby was at about half volume and Brody reached for the folding privacy screen Delaney had leaned against the wall. As he looked it over, trying to figure out the best way to fold it out for maximum privacy, he glanced around the gym again. He didn’t figure a screaming baby was going to go over too well.
A few guys threw dirty looks their way, and Brody felt his temper rising. Maybe he’d made himself into a successful businessman and the calluses were gone, but there were some things a guy from the rough part of town didn’t forget. Like how to throw a punch.
“Brody.” Sandy’s elbow jabbed his ribs. “Brody! Don’t even start.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I know that look and I’m telling you don’t even think about it.”
Brody shrugged, more to ease the tension from his shoulders than in response to her words. “That guy in the green sweatshirt was a couple years behind me in school. A punk with a big mouth.”
“Now he’s just a dad here with two young kids who are probably already on his last nerve and he’s thinking about how a newborn’s going to make it so much worse.”
Now that she mentioned it, Brody saw the two boys near the guy. Young and full of the frantic energy that came with being up past their bedtime, they were roughhousing and showed no signs of being tired. A newborn in their midst definitely wouldn’t make the guy’s life any easier.
“Can you do me a favor?” Sandy asked after he’d wrapped the screen around their cots. “I’m supposed to drink a lot of water when I’m nursing. I drank one bottle already and I couldn’t fit anymore in the bags. Can you get some from the kitchen?”
At least it was something to do. Brody had a feeling if this power outage stretched on, he’d be begging for busy work. He wasn’t a guy used to sitting around doing nothing. But he only got halfway across the gym before he ran into an old friend.
“Hot damn. If it ain’t Brody Rollins.” Donnie Cox didn’t look much different than the last time Brody had seen him, downing shots after a good haul. Worn flannel shirt, faded jeans and unlaced work boots with duct tape over one toe. “Heard you were back in town.”
Brody shook his hand, noting the hard, ragged calluses across Donnie’s palm. It had taken almost two years for Brody’s hands to smooth to the point they weren’t something people—usually women—commented on. “It’s good to see you again, Cox.”
“Yeah, I brought the wife and mother-in-law over when the power went out, but I’m going to go back out and do some welfare checks. Hate being cooped up.”
“Married, huh? Congratulations.”
“I married Becks. Big surprise.” Donnie and Rebecca were not only high-school sweethearts, but had been together since junior high. They’d never dated anybody but each other, as far as Brody knew. “I’ll be a dad in four months, too. Our first.”
Brody said all the right congratulatory words, but mentally he was acknowledging that guys he went to school with being married and having kids made him feel a little as if he was missing out on something. Sure, he’d been working hard and putting money in the bank, but he’d be thirty soon. It wouldn’t be long before he started looking for a wife and planning a family.
As the thought took hold in his mind, his gaze was drawn to Delaney. If he hadn’t left town, they’d be married now. Probably have at least two kids. And he’d work his ass off every day just to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table while Delaney scrounged for coupons and did laundry that would always smell like a fishing boat.
He couldn’t regret not letting them turn into his parents. But he regretted not having her. He regretted that a lot.
“It was good to see you, man,” Donnie said. “I need to get back.”
He shook Donnie’s hand, and then continued toward the kitchen. Delaney seemed to be the only volunteer there and he didn’t know where they kept the water, so he headed toward her. When she saw him coming, her expression grew guarded and he hated that.
“What can I do for you?”
So formal and cold. She’d been his best friend once and her voice had always made him feel good, whether she was talking about her day or whispering sweet invitations in his ear. “Sandy’s out of water and she’s supposed to drink a lot when she’s nursing Noah. She said you’d have some.”
“We lock the kitchen at night, but water we keep in the coolers under the main table so people can help themselves. Feel free to grab some.”
When she started to turn away, he said her name to make her stop. He didn’t know what to say to her, but he couldn’t stand getting the cold shoulder. Not from her.
“Was there something else?”
“I’m sorry.” It seemed like a good place—the only place—to start. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”
She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her shoulders a little in a very familiar defensive reaction. When she was afraid a conversation might make her cry, Delaney’s body language closed up, as if she were wrapping herself in a protective blanket. He wasn’t surprised he remembered that. There wasn’t much he’d forgotten.
“Thank you for the apology, Brody. I did get your note, though. That was thoughtful of you.”
Ouch. So it was angry tears, not sad tears, she was afraid she might shed in front of him. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
“No, thanks.”
“Come on, Delaney. I want to talk to you. If you just give me a little consideration, I’ll—”
“I’ll give you the same consideration you gave me. How about that?”
“I did what was best for you. For both of us.”
“That’s weak, Brody. Really weak.”
Maybe it was, but it was all he had. “Delaney, seriously, can we talk?”
“No, Brody, we can’t. I have to dim the lights and start spreading the word it’s quiet time so maybe these kids will get some sleep.”
“After that, maybe we can slip out in the hall and talk?”
“There’s nothing to say. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
She left him standing there alone, feeling as if there were a whole lot of things he wanted to say to her, but the words were all stuck in his throat. No matter how straight she tried to play it, there was still pain in her eyes. He’d known her too long and too well to miss it.
The least he could do while he was stuck here was try to make that pain go away.
CHAPTER THREE
BRODY WASN’T SURE what time it was when he opened his eyes. The gym was quiet, except for the creak of cots as people tried
