“Hi,” he said as he tucked the phone between his cheek and shoulder. “What’s up?”
“Ben? It’s Liam.”
Ben was temporarily speechless. Liam. On the phone. Calling Ben. As if that was just something they did whenever they felt like it.
But Liam continued with, “I’m sorry to bug you, but I’m a bit worried about Calvin. Obviously it’s a bit hard to be sure of anything with him, but he seems—notright. Maybe he’s just tired? But he’s acting kind of dazed. Stumbling around—shit, I think I just heard him knock something over. He’s in his bedroom.”
In his bedroom?When he had a guest to entertain and/or torture? “How long’s he been in there for?”
“Not long. I could be making a big deal about nothing. But you know, all the stuff about getting treatment for strokes as soon as possible—notthat I’m saying he’s having a stroke! Seriously, he might just be tired.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“He’ll be pissed if he thinks you’re checking up on him.”
“Let him be. He doesn’t get to invite himself into every aspect of my life and then expect privacy in return.”
“I was worrying more about him being pissed atmefor calling you.”
“You’re tough, you can handle it.” Ben managedto bite his tongue before pointing out that Liam had quite a bit of history with pissing off members of his family. Why drag up ancient history when Liam was trying to help Uncle Calvin?
So he ended the call, grabbed a few beers out of the fridge, and jogged out to the car. By the time he was at Calvin’s he was regretting the beers—he’d thought they’d be a good cover, a way to pretend he wasjust stopping by for a little visit, but maybe he shouldn’t be creating a cover. Maybe this was his opportunity to make it clear to Uncle Calvin that they were a familyin both directions, and Ben was just as entitled to interfere in Calvin’s life as the reverse.
But that would be a fight, probably, and if Uncle Calvin actually was sick, Ben shouldn’t be fighting with him. And even if he wasfine, it wasn’t too gracious to start a family brawl with Liam as an audience. Although Liam might actually be a good ally in the argument; he cared about Uncle Calvin enough to want to—
Shit. No. No, no, no.
Ben grabbed the beers from the back seat. Liam wasn’t a damn ally, he was a temporary visitor with unclear motivations. He’d had his chance to become part of the family fifteen years earlier,and he’d blown it.
Still, it was hard to remember that when Liam stepped out onto the front porch and waited, clearly impatiently, for Ben to come up the walk. The poor guy was worried.
“I think I heard him throw up,” Liam said as soon as Ben was close enough to hear his near whisper. “But I’m not positive.” He scrubbed his hand over the back of his head. “Sorry. I’m not much use for any ofthis.”
“You called me. That was useful.” But Ben wouldn’t let himself be sidetracked into trying to comfortLiam, of all people. “Where is he?”
“Still in the bathroom. I knocked and he told me to go away, so I went away.”
Of course he had. Why stay and fight when you could just disappear?
Ben shoved the beers into Liam’s hands with a little more force than was probably necessary. “Put thesein the fridge. I’ll go deal with Uncle Calvin.”
Of course, dealing with Uncle Calvin was easier said than done. Ben knocked on the bathroom door, and the pause before a response was long enough to make him edgy. Finally, though, Calvin barked, “Go away! I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you’re great,” Ben agreed. “Stuck in the bathroom while you have a guest downstairs. Totally normal for you.”
“Ben? Whatare you doing here?” Uncle Calvin’s voice sounded thin and tentative. Damn it, therewassomething wrong with him.
“I came over for a beer.” And the proof was downstairs in the fridge. “Liam said you’d been up here for a while, so I decided to check on you. What’s going on?”
“You came over for a beer? With Liam?” And even through the weakness, Ben could hear a trace of interest.
“Can we focuson you for right now? What’s wrong with you? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“No.”
Of course, Uncle Calvin’s arm could be sliced off at the shoulder and the stubborn old goat would still insist he was fine.
“So you’re going to come down for a beer?”
