A Man Worth Keeping

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“Well, maybe not originally but that’s their last address.”

“Then why doesn’t Delia have a winter coat? And why is this the first time Josie has seen this much snow and—”

“Do you have a problem with Delia and Josie?” Gabe asked, leaning back in his chair.

Max could tell Gabe, right here and right now, that something was wrong. That he didn’t trust Delia, that she was hiding something and that his gut said that something was real bad. Gabe would believe him and Delia and Josie would be gone by the end of the day tomorrow and Max could go back to constructing useless buildings and forgetting.

But that mix of fear and courage in her voice still resonated in him like a struck bell. The way her hands fisted at her stomach told him more than words and her bravado that she needed a safe harbor.

“No,” he finally said. He couldn’t be responsible for the two of them being turned out, not until he knew what was at play.

“You sure? I mean, she’s a very beautiful woman…” Gabe trailed off as he reached for more cake and Max pulled it out of the way.

Gabe scowled and Max handed the cake over to him entirely. “Or—” Gabe lifted his eyebrows “—maybe you didn’t happen to notice her looks.”

“I noticed.” It was impossible not to. She was a neon sign in a dark window. He found it hard to look away, and when he did, her image lingered, burned into his eyes. “But she has made it real clear that I make her uncomfortable.”

“Did you hit on her?”

“Of course not.”

“Right.” Gabe nodded. “I forgot you’re working on unofficial monk status.”

“I’m in the middle of nowhere with my brother, my dad and my very pregnant sister-in-law. It’s not that hard to be a monk.”

“Daphne, from—”

“I’m not talking about this,” Max told him definitively. His love life was no one’s business.

“So, why do you make Delia uncomfortable?”

“I talked to her kid and it made her jumpy.”

“She’s pretty protective,” Gabe agreed, and took a swig of his beer. “But I guess pretty, single moms have to be.”

“That’s the third time you’ve mentioned Delia’s looks.” Now it was Max’s turn to be smug, to needle his brother. “You want me to tell Alice you’ve got your eye on another woman?”

“She’d never believe you,” Gabe said, as assured as a man could be. He practically oozed satisfaction. Happy wafted off him like stink from garbage and his wife was the same way. When she wasn’t complaining about having to lie down most of the time, or grumbling about the size of her ankles or her butt she had “the glow.” And when Gabe walked into the room she glowed harder.

It was nice.

Nice to be around such happiness. Such normality. It gave him back a kernel of faith in marriage and parenthood, faith the last years of his job had ripped all away.

“You heard from Dad?” Gabe asked, taking one last bite of cake then setting down his fork. He had been complaining of the sympathy weight he’d been putting on with his wife.

Max didn’t have such problems so he finished off the chocolate goo and shook his head. “It’s only been two days, Gabe. I haven’t heard from him since he left.”

“It’s so weird him taking off like that.”

“Because Dad’s been the picture of mental health since last summer?” Max asked, not sparing the sarcasm.

“You worried?”

“About what? That he’ll tell Mom to come even though we made it real clear we didn’t want to see her again?”

“Or that he went to see her?”

They were silent for a moment and Max wondered if Dad would actually do that. Mom had walked out on the three of them thirty years ago. Just packed up and left in the middle of the night, no note, no goodbyes, not even a hint that she was unhappy.

Then a few months ago she had contacted Dad asking to see all of them, like she had the right. Like the door she’d shut when she left would swing open because she wanted it to.

Max rubbed at his face. “He said he had to go talk to his lawyer about his life insurance. That he needed to get his things in order.”

Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems like a lame excuse.”

“Maybe he’s off having a dirty weekend—”

Gabe shot him a shut-the-hell-up look. Max smiled and drank his beer.

“You’re not worried?”

“About Dad?” Gabe nodded and Max shook his head. “Nope. I don’t worry, Gabe. I let you do that.”

It was another reason why living here worked out for Max. He had shelter, clothes, food, company, gooey chocolate cakes and mindless work that kept him occupied—and he didn’t have to worry about any of it. Gabe worried enough for both of them.

And now, with him and Alice finally having a baby after years of effort, his mother hen ways were in overdrive.

Which was another reason not to say anything about Delia.

Max stood. “Where do you want to put those two women arriving on Friday?”

“Cabin four, I think. It’s the biggest, so if they want to stay, they won’t feel cramped.”

“All right.” Max grabbed the half-eaten cake, the two forks and the empty beer bottles. “I’ll go make sure it’s in good shape.”

“Now?” Gabe asked, looking at his watch. “It’s midnight.”

Max shrugged. “Why not?”

Gabe stared at him a little too long and all those questions his brother and father had been dying to ask since he got out of the hospital suddenly swirled around the room. They were never far away—the questions, concern and worry.

“I’m fine,” he said, forestalling the actually uttering of the questions. No one would truly understand what was wrong. The guilt he carried that had nothing to do with a dead father and a dead kid.