The retirement home has been having problems. Old pipes are regularly bursting, but it’s too expensive to get them replaced all at once. Instead, we have to wait for them to burst then do our best to patch everything. The insurance company that my aunt pays an outrageous amount of money to every year has declared the problem as not covered, so it’s on us to figure things out.
I will never understand how it’s legal for insurance companies to pick and choose what they cover. It seems they take a lot of money only to be very little help when it’s truly needed.
Fortunately, Dalton, one of the men who works here, and Bronco, both know enough about pipes that they’ve been fixing them. Normally, I’d have told my aunt by now. But I don’t want to disturb her late in the night. Not with all the stress she’s under.
I finally remember that I’m on the phone with Bronco, and continue my story, “I was in high school when Vale built me a bench and put it under there. He did it for my birthday, and it was the best gift I ever got.”
It’s gone now.
The bench.
The tree.
My brother.
During a summer storm one night, the magnolia tree was hit by lightning and caught fire. It collapsed on the bench, and there was nothing to be saved from either.
The next morning, the news came.
My brother was missing in action.
“He loved you a lot,” Bronco says.
Of course he did, Vale and I were best friends despite the ten year age gap between us. We were buddies, not because we shared DNA but simply because we chose to be. Then he had to go and leave me.
“Do you have a favorite memory?” I ask softly, feeling shy even as I say the words. Bronco is good at encouraging me to talk, but he rarely answers my questions directly. I’m not sure if he’s shy too or if he finds me annoying. My heart twists at the thought. Please let him just be shy.
“I’m here,” he says instead of answering. Is it crazy that I wish he’d still been driving? That I wish he’d have finally opened up and told me something about himself? I only know what I’ve managed to glean from Vale.
“I’ll get you buzzed in,” I tell him, disconnecting the call quickly. I slip into a pair of kitten heels left strewn by my front door and leave my room. I live in the retirement community, the same as my aunt does. We have our own rooms here, just like the residents. Each space comes with a living area, kitchenette, bathroom, and bedroom. It’s a cozy place, and no one knows it’s teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. No one but me and Aunt Elaine.
I hurry down the hall to the reception area where Ryan’s gaze is flicking between a thriller he’s reading and the security camera feeds. He’s been working here for years, always standing guard to make sure no one leaves when they shouldn’t. We only have a couple of dementia patients at a time, but their confusion worsens once the sun goes down.
I clear my throat, and he glances toward me. I’m not usually up at this hour, let alone asking him to buzz in visitors. “Can you buzz in Bronco? We have another water leak. This one is in a residential room.”
Ryan swears under his breath and hits a series of numbers on his keypad. The sound of the locks disengaging is loud in the middle of the night. “Do I need to get Elaine?”
I fight a yawn. “There’s no point. I’ll tell her in the morning.”
He nods and goes back to his book, not even looking up when Bronco enters.
As usual, my knees go weak the moment he’s here. He fills the space of the lobby with his presence, his broad shoulders and big Stetson instantly making the room feel smaller. His red flannel shirt with the long sleeves and dark wash blue jeans cling to his massive frame. He’s so large it looks as if someone tried to sew the clothes onto his body. Half the men in this town must shop at the tall stores. Courage County grows them big and strong here.
He looks me up and down with no clue how much his gaze warms me or how badly I want to run to him and hug him. The closest I’ve ever come to physical affection from Bronco is when he put an arm around me at Vale’s memorial service.
“Show me where the problem is.” When he says those words, I could sink into a puddle of relief. It’s not that I need some gallant man to come rescue me. It’s just been a really crappy few weeks, and the one person who always makes me feel better is here.
I duck my head and turn so he won’t see how close I am to tears. It would be just like Bronco to try and swoop in to fix this, but what I’m dealing with is so much bigger and worse than a leaking pipe spraying in the walls.
I lead him to my living space, trying to ignore the way it makes me tingly all over to have him here. My brother’s best friend is in my home.
Granted, whenever I have this reoccurring dream of Bronco showing up in the middle of the night, it’s not because of some water crisis. No, in those fantasies, he shows up because he can’t deny it. He’s been driven mad by desire and now, he can’t live a moment longer without confessing to me how he feels.
He follows me to the bedroom, and the moment he spots the wall, he murmurs, “I see.”
I nod miserably. You’d think I’d be an expert at dealing with problems like this, and normally, I am. But normally, I have the whole retirement community watching, and it’s my job to show up with a smile and reassure everyone that things are fine. But who’s going to reassure me tonight?
“Can you fix it?” I croak out, hating how brittle my voice sounds.
