Page 187 of Levi

“Mickey is my brother,” Tex continues. “Every way but blood. He’s been my brother since the day we met in seventh grade, and the deal has always been that we do whatever the other one needs. That’s the deal. And that night, the thing he needed was the one thing I couldn’t do.”

He stops. Nobody moves.

“I didn’t know how we were going to get Mickey through it. I just knew this family was going to try. Sheila. Stormy. Me. His parents. We had a plan and the plan was three simple words. Don’t lose Mickey. That was it. That was the entire plan. We’re bar people. We’re not planners.” His face stays wet. “And then guess what happened? We were sent a planner.”

The deck breaks, laughing and crying in the same breath. Mickey laughs with his chest and it turns into something else halfway through. Benji is destroyed beside him, gripping Mickey’s hand and my arm at the same time.

“Benji was there that night. Mickey stepped in front of him, because that’s who Mickey is. Benji spent that night in the emergency room refusing to leave, because that’s who Benji is. I watched it happen and I didn’t understand yet what I was seeing.

“Then Mickey moved to the hospital in Tallahassee and Benji visited him every day. A hundred miles each way. Two hundred miles a day, day after day, for a stranger. You can fake flowers. Or get-well cards. You can’t fake two hundred miles a day.”

He points at Benji, and his hand isn’t steady, and he keeps it up there anyway.

“Somewhere around the second week I told Mickey, buddy, I don’t want to alarm you, but I believe you might have a stalker. He’s got tremendous hair and he keeps bringing you contraband pizza and sweet tea, but the pattern is concerning. And Mickey looked at me and said all defensive, ‘He’s not a stalker.’” Tex drops the hand. “That’s when I knew Benji was the one for Mickey.

“I run a bar. I’ve had twenty years of watching every kind of love there is walk in that door and out of it. I’ve seen love that’s loud and love that only shows up on paydays. Believe me when I tell you I know the real thing when it’s standing in front of me holding a cane it kept a secret.”

Mickey huffs out a laugh and shakes his head.

“I used to hope for this. I’m not embarrassed to say it. I asked whoever is in charge of these things to send my brother one person who would love him with everything they’ve got. And I’m here to report the request was fulfilled beyond expectations, because I’ve watched Benji love Mickey with everything Mickey lost and everything he built back after, and there’s not been one single day of difference between the two.”

Benji says, “Tex,” like a warning, sobbing, and it stops nothing.

“And here’s the thing no one warned us about,” Tex says. “Benji didn’t come here alone. No one tells you that about love. It shows up with luggage. Benji came into this family and he brought Dante with him, whether Dante had agreed to that or not.”

He points at me. All heads turn.

“And then Dante went and brought us Levi.” Tex looks at Levi, and Levi’s eyes go wet too. Tex lets him off easy, one nod, and moves on. “You see how this works? You see what’s happening here? This Roadhouse family doesn’t stop getting bigger. No one in it has the same blood. Not one drop between the crowd of us.

“My daddy built this bar for exactly this and he didn’t even know it. And we’re not done. There’s room on this deck. I counted the chairs. We can’t build into the Gulf or into the road but we can build up. There’s room for more here.”

Mickey’s left leg has started a fine tremble. I see it. Stormy sees it and moves the wheelchair closer without a sound. Mickey gives him one small shake of the head. Not yet. Stormy stops where he is and keeps his hands on the chair, and Tex sees the exchange from the front. I watch him drop a full page of his speech in his head.

He looks down at the sand below the railing, and when he comes back up his voice is thick with emotion.

“And one day, God willing, there’s going to be little feet playing in that sand right down there in front of this deck.” The crowd makes a sound all at once. Sheila’s crying into Levi’s shoulder now, the dish towel becoming a tissue. “I’ve said it out loud now, in front of witnesses, so it’s binding. I’ve already priced swing sets. Don’t anybody act surprised.” Tex winks at Stormy, who grins and ducks his head. “None of us here have figured out the logistics yet. The only thing we’ve come up with is it won’t be the old-fashioned way, but we’ll figure it out.”

Everyone on the deck looks out at the sand, imagining what Tex is describing. Mickey looks only at Benji.

Tex turns to Mickey. “Mickey. Brother. In my life I’ve told you two things that I need you to remember today. The first one was the day I drove you home from the rehab place in Jacksonville, to the loft over this bar. I swore to you, good times were coming again.” He has to stop. He breathes once. “Mickey, look around you. Look at what’s standing beside you holding your hand. The good times didn’t just come. They moved in upstairs.”

Mickey’s face is ruined. He doesn’t wipe it either.

“The second thing you already know. I told you the day we watched Benji and Dante frolic on the beach. You can’t turn down the sun, my brother. You can only decide whether you want to stand in it.” Tex’s voice finally cracks, and he lets it. “Look at you now. You’re standing in it.”

Sheila has the dish towel draped over her face. Levi puts his arm around her and tucks her into his side. Tex straightens up to his full height and gets on with the vows.

“Benji. Do you take my brother, Mickey, for the rest of your beautiful life?”

“I do. God, I do.”

“Mickey. Do you take this man, Benji, who drove two hundred miles a day to bring you food?”

“I do.”

I pull out the rings.

Mickey looks down at the cane in his right hand and I watch him work the problem. He can’t hold it and a ring at the same time.