I called him twice yesterday, but he didn’t call me back. And now he’s here?
Zane
Putting coffee on
Cash
Bacon too, please, these kale picking fingers aren’t cheap
Zane
Thought you were too busy?
Cash
Nah, it was dead yesterday, so I got ahead and made some time, as requested
Zane
No new customers?
Cash
Don’t worry about it, business is still good
Zane
Not worried
Not about him, anyway. I guess she took my money and made it out of town.
Good for her, as long as that car keeps running.
Fuck.
The back door opens, bringing a gust of cool spring air into the kitchen. Ridge strides in, a heavy canvas jacket on top of a couple of flannel layers, a Thermos in his hand. “Morning.”
“You want breakfast?” I yank two pounds of bacon out of the fridge.
“Just coffee.”
I don’t know why he doesn’t make that himself, since he insists on living alone. He has his own house set back from the main lodge. Before he built that, he lived in a camper van. It’s an unspoken rule in our family that we accept our oldest brother ashe is, on his own terms. Better not to spook the beast.
And at six and a half feet and two-hundred-and-fifty pounds, the man is clearly not starving.
My phone vibrates again.
Mom
In my studio
So we’re all awake after all.
After Ridge fills his Thermos, I get my own mug, and while the bacon cooks in the oven, I take a cup upstairs to our mother, too.
Her studio is in a loft space at one end of the lodge. In a house filled with men, it’s a decidedly clean, feminine space filled with plants and crystals. It smells like lavender and a special paper and paint scent that I’ll always associate with my mom’s happiness.
“I’m coming,” she says as she gets up from her yoga mat, adjusting herHex the Patriarchyt-shirt.
