“Way up high on ladders?”
“Fuck off.”
Will smiled. “Adam’s going to be okay. Becca is, too. And so are you.”
Owen frowned. “I know I am.”
“You’ve been extra grumpy lately. Maybe you should get out of the house.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Out of the firehouse, too.” Will narrowed his eyes. “When was the last time you went to the Green Hedgehog?”
“Did you and Adam team tag me with this?”
“Hand to God, we did not. Why?”
“Nothing.” He rolled his neck. “I’m fine. I promise, I’m not being too hard on Becca about this. I’m giving her the space she needs. I’m doing my best.”
“She’s going to be okay.”
“That’s what I told her as soon as she found out.”
“Good.”
Owen gave his brother an appraising look. “Can I ask you an honest question?”
“Sure.”
“Would you be saying the same thing if she were a student of yours, and not your niece?”
Will didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
Owen wasn’t sure why he’d asked that. Doubt swam in the same waters as fear, probably.
“We’re all just trying to do the best with what we’ve got,” his brother said. “And you know this—young adults are resilient, and they need to make their own decisions so they can learn from them.”
“All right. Life lesson noted.”
“If we’re asking honest questions, can I ask you one?” Will looked like he was on guard, but fair was fair.
Owen nodded.
“Would you do anything differently? Becca’s in your shoes now. Looking back…”
“No.” Owen shook his head forcefully. “That’s never crossed my mind. I just didn’t know how hard it was going to be.”
It wasn’t having Becca so young that he resented. It was then having two young brothers dumped in his lap when their parents died. Having another two teenagers who knew keenly he wasnottheir parent. A house he couldn’t afford, that had to be sold, and then years of renting before he could buy his little bungalow.
If his parents hadn’t died, it just would have all been a little easier.
The previous generation of Kincaids worked themselves to early deaths. Owen didn’t want any of his brothers to follow in their parents’ footsteps. He’d been counting down the months to freedom, to his own chance to enjoy life to its fullest.
But looking at Will across the table, he couldn’t bring himself to say any of that out loud. His pessimism was his own burden, not to be shared with his brother. So he stuck to repeating part of the truth. “Becca is the best part of my life. Hands down.”
* * *
When he got homefrom work, there was a note on the fridge that Becca had run out to Mac’s to get fries. Owen texted her to let her know he was back, then he pulled out the step stool that lived beside the fridge and opened the door to the storage crawlspace above the back porch.
