Page 47 of At First Smile

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Shepherd’s Pie

Rowan

B linking, I watch Pen disappear down the hall.

Her melodic voice drifts back as she asks Finn and Mam to go for a walk.

I want to follow, but my feet are rooted to the red and black checkered tiled floor.

Something in the way she said “you can be mad at me for this later” commands me to stay. For what? I don’t know.

“Why has it been rough for you two?”

At my brother’s raspy question, I spin. “What?”

“Pen said it’s been a rough few weeks for you two.” He gestures to the empty entryway as if she still stood there. “Was it because of you punching Landon?”

“No,” I snap and turn toward the glass patio door, fixing on the gentle sway of the maple trees in the backyard.

Of course, his first thought would be that it had something to do with me, that I was the cause. Aren’t I, usually?

Don’t do that, baby. Pen’s sweetly firm voice whispers inside me.

With a long heavy sigh, I brace my hands on the kitchen island. “Sorry to disappoint you again , but I’m not the reason.”

“What does that mean?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You’ve been pretty clear what an utter disappointment I am to you.”

“You’re not?—”

“But I am,” I cut in, struggling to contain the anger that rages in my veins. “You were the only one not surprised after I lost the cup and then punched Landon. Like you were just waiting for me to fuck it up.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. It’s how you’ve looked at me every day since….” I close my eyes.

“Since when?”

“Forget it,” I mutter and turn to walk away.

He reaches out and grabs my bicep, halting my steps. “No. Fucking talk to me.”

I could easily break free of my brother’s grip. He’s strong, but I’m stronger. However, the desperation shading his eyes immobilizes me.

“Since Dad.” The knot in my stomach tightens, painfully gnarling my emotions.

His face pinches. “That’s not true.”

“Bullshit.”

“I may have been tough on you, but I was doing my best. For God’s sake, I was a little boy too, trying to help you become a man. Nobody showed me how because the person that was supposed to was gone,” he shouts.

“Because of me, right?” I hiss, my words slam like a punch.

Blanching, he takes a step back, but his hand remains tight on my bicep. His mouth opens and closes a few times with no words breaching.

With a deep inhale, I let it out. “You told me it was my fault. You said if it wasn’t for me, he’d be alive.”

His grip clings. “I was an angry little boy who’d lost his dad.”

“So was I.” I jerk my arm from his grip. “You’re my big brother. I looked to you for comfort and instead found blame.”

“I was angry?—”

“Fuck you,” I snarl, bile stinging in my throat, and turn.

“Rowan, wait.”

“I’m not listening to your excuses.”

“Fucking stop.” His arms come around me and yank me back into him.

“Let go.” I pull, but he tightens his bear-like hold.

“No.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I grit.

“Go ahead, drop me. I’ll just get back up. I’m not letting go until you listen…. Please.” His voice trembles.

“Speak.”

Without loosening his hold, he speaks, “I was angry at him. It took me a long time to realize that, to admit that. I’m still furious with him for going out there by himself.”

“Me too,” I croak.

“It was easier to take it out on you. You’ve always been more his son than me or Finn. Mam always says we both got our looks from Dad, but he gave you his heart.”

I swallow thickly.

“You’re just like him. All heart. Once you commit to something, you’re all the way in.

You love deeply… Just like him. Never has that been clearer than today seeing you with Pen.

The same unabashed smile that Dad always wore rested on your face.

It’s the same smile he had with Mam—” His voice cracks “—and with you.”

“You’re his son, too.”

His arms relax but remain folded around me.

“Not like you. Finn and Mam have always been close. Dad and you were close. I… I was jealous. That day… He’d ask me to help him get the pond ready, but I said no.

Ever the prick, I didn’t realize it was his attempt to include me.

Instead, I went to the store with you all. If I had?—”

“It’s not either of our faults,” I say quickly, raising my hands to his forearms and squeezing.

“His death isn’t, but what happened afterward is on me. If anyone is a disappointment, it’s me. I failed you. I failed him in the one thing he expected me to do: be your big brother.”

Regret overflows within me. Its sting chokes away my ability to speak.

“I can’t fix the wrong that I’ve done, but I want to try to do better… To be the brother you deserve. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m asking anyway.”

Those words are almost verbatim of my plea to Pen a month ago. That sweet honey gaze peering up at me as she mulled over my apology in the middle of Bread. Two very different situations, but somehow the same. It’s forgiveness. It’s love.

“Why now?” My voice is hoarse.

“Because it’s still today and I don’t want another tomorrow to come not knowing that we’re okay. I know I don’t show it in the right way or say it, but I love you. What you saw in my eyes after you punched Landon wasn’t about you…it was about my failure.”

My face wrinkles. “Your failure?”

“If Finn hauled off and smacked someone, I’d know why.

With you, I didn’t know, and that’s on me.

Fans in the stands that day thought it was in response to losing.

Even if I knew deep down that wasn’t the reason, I didn’t know why, and I didn’t know how to ask because I let our relationship deteriorate to this point. ”

“How did you know it wasn’t because we’d lost?”

“Because you’re like dad, you only attack to protect.”

We only use our fists to stop, not to start.

Dad’s deep bass voice whispers in my heart.

How often had he said that? The memory of him kneeling in front of Gillian, a trickle of blood dripping from his nose after getting in a fight on the playground, and me wiping away my tears after being knocked down, flashes in my vision.

Gillian had darted from the basketball court towards the bottom of the slide where I lay sprawled after Tommy O’Hare pushed me from the ladder, so he could go.

“You’re like him too,” I whisper.

I hear him swallow, but he doesn’t acknowledge my words and continues, “Your protectiveness comes out when you play. Every game you play, it’s the same.”

“Every game?”

“I have never missed a single one of your games.” He murmurs as if it’s a secret.

“Why didn’t you say?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “But I’m not going to say anymore. I want to know you and I want you to know me.”

“Okay,” I rasp, raising my hand and taking his.

He squeezes our intertwined palms. “Okay.”

We stand there for what feels like minutes. Each thump of his heartbeat against my back ticks away the time.

“You said you wouldn’t let go until I listened… I listened.”

“And they say that I’m the prick,” he grumbles, humor colors his tone.

“Well, I’m just trying to be like my big brother,” I say, stepping away from him. I don’t make it too far.

He spins me and pulls me into a tight hug. “I love you, even if you are a smug prick sometimes.”

“Again, just following your lead.” I squeeze him back. “I love you too, Gillian.”

“Ok, now that that is over?—”

A raucous laugh falls out of me.

“—why have the last few weeks been rough?” He lets me go.

God, I’d almost forgotten about his original question. I rub the back of my head. “Pen’s ex stalked her.”

“Bastard!” he mutters.

“Agreed.”

“Since you’re not in jail, I take it he’s still alive.”

Clenching my teeth, I dig my fingernails into the laminate surface.

“Unless you’ve fled here to escape the authorities. I hate to break it to you, bro, but Canada will extradite.” Somehow my brother’s tone teeters between his normal gruffness and a teasing lightness.

“I didn’t touch him.”

He places a palm on my shoulder. “You’re stronger than me.”

“I wanted to. It took everything in me to not end him. He stalked her like she was a trophy to possess rather than a queen to earn the privilege to be in the presence of.”

“A queen you’ll charge into battle for.” He smirks.

“Absolutely.” I lean against the counter. “She’s so fucking brave. Everything he put her through, and she faced him… And she still opens her heart to me. Christ, even before they broke up, he…” A snarl roars in my chest. “…He tried to snuff out her light.”

“He failed miserably.”

“That he did.” I scrub my hands down my face.

“We could—” He motions to the cutting board. “I’m a chef, nobody has to know what happens to the body.”

An unexpected snort belts out of me.

His wry grin is almost disturbing.

But my mouth still lifts. “He’s gone, now. She reported him. She took her power back.”

“Your girl is like hard candy, strong but sweet.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sorry for how I acted when I first met her. I was?—”

“Being your typical prickish self.” My scoff is firm but not unkind.

He blows out a long breath. “I’ve made an art form of it. Just ask my soon-to-be ex-wife.”

“I’m sorry about Layla and you.”

He’d been so happy with Layla. They’d met in culinary school and seemed perfect for each other.

“I really am sorry,” I repeat.

“Me too.” He steps away and motions to the counter. “You chop the carrots and I’ll finish browning the meat.”

“Pen doesn’t like carrots.”

“First, you’re pussy-whipped.”

Not arguing.

“Second, I’m making two shepherd’s pies. A large one for us and a mini one for Pen.”

Warmth surges inside me, melting the last drop of tension away.

No doubt after I gave Mam the list of Pen’s food preferences, he’d decided to do this.

Even before whatever conversation they’d had or the brokering of our fresh start, he made special scones for her and planned to make her an individual shepherd’s pie.

It’s not for Pen, even if it’s clear he likes her. He’s done this for me.