Page 10

10

BOBBY

FINDING HOME

S ilently watching the security screens, I watch Jack run – hobble – out past the gates, then Annie, with only three legs, jogging more fluidly on his left. As soon as the gates close and lock behind him, I turn back to my family.

“He’s gone?”

Taking my wife in my arms and frowning at the more noticeable rib bones felt through her shirt, I press a kiss to her brow and nod.

I wasn’t lying to Jack; she’s not eating because of him. She’s not sleeping. She’s as stressed this year as she was when I first met her.

Pushing her hair aside, I drop a second kiss on her temple. “Yeah, baby. He’s gone.”

“Alright.” Clapping his hands, Jim turns on the kids. “I’ll give each of you ten bucks if you go to the TV room and play the PlayStation. I got you a new game, too.”

“Yay!” Several of the smaller kids jump up and send milk glasses toppling, silverware clanging, and crockery slamming together.

But of course, the older girls shake their heads.

“I don’t wanna go.” Stopping in front of Tina and Aiden, Evie pouts and looks up at her dad. “I know y’all are talkin’ about Uncle Jack. I wanna stay.”

“Well that’s just too bad.” Aiden gently tugs Evie’s springy curls down. “This is grown-up stuff, Smalls. I’m sorry, baby.”

“But I’m twelve now! I can handle it. ”

“You don’t have to handle anything,” Tina argues with a soft smile. “Go to the living room and make sure the twins don’t kill each other.” She pauses thoughtfully. “Or anyone else.”

“I’ll double your ten.” Stepping forward, Jon takes his niece’s shoulders in his hands. “For each of my boys. So you’ll get forty bucks to make sure they don’t kill anyone.”

Her eyes light with mischief. She’s a wily Kincaid, just like the rest of us. “Fifty and you’ve got a deal.”

“Thirty, since I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” Laughing, he pulls her in for a hug. “Don’t try to hustle me, baby girl. I grew up in the ghetto. No one can hustle me.”

“Awww, Uncle Jon–”

“But,” he interrupts, “Stop trying to negotiate, and I’ll take it back to forty. Plus, you kicked that asshole in the head last week, so I owe you.”

“Jon,” Tina grumbles over her daughter’s giggles. “Potty mouth.” Her eyes go back to Evie’s. “And no fighting at school. That’s bad! Save it for the gym. Now scram. We have to talk.”

Pouting, she walks away and snags Bean’s hand on the way out, and within seconds, their voices carry through the house as she and Bean break up twin fights.

“That girl get home alright last night?” Pulling out a chair at the messy table, Jon pulls Tink into his lap and ignores his sons’ feral shouts as Evie takes care of business.

Nodding, Tink winds her arm around his shoulder and scratches gentle patterns into his scalp. “Uh-huh. We dropped her off at her door, and didn’t leave until she walked in and shut it again. She’s safe.”

“So…” Jimmy smiles wolfishly. “She’s Jack’s… friend . But she’s also our kids’ teacher? That’s some wicked comeuppance for our boy.” Laughing, he leans against the kitchen counter and lazily kicks one foot across the other. “Bet he regrets treating her like shit. We’ve watched girls doing the walk from his place for months, but this one wasn’t just taking it on the chin, huh? She has sass.”

Mirroring my best friend, I take a seat and pull Kit into my lap. I think about last night, about my wife’s baby brother crying in my arms, about the broken man who’s so lost, he can’t see us right here in front of him. “He needs help, guys.”

Smile wiped clean, Jimmy nods solemnly. “Yeah, I know.”

Squeezing Kit, I admit something to myself, something that hurts to acknowledge. Something that I so rarely have to admit. “I don’t know what to do. ”

“No,” Aiden sighs. “Me neither. I have no damn clue.”

“We need to get him back in the gym, for starters,” Izzy states. “I know that won’t fix anything, but he needs to come back to us. He needs his family, and his family’s in that gym.”

“At least he went for a run,” Kit adds with a shaky voice. Shaky, but hopeful. “That’s new.”

“That’s definitely new, baby.” I pull her down for a fast kiss. “That’s a good sign.”

“Who’s Britt?” Aiden asks. “To Jack, is she important?”

I shrug. “Nah. I think she’s no one. I think she’s just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“That’s a shame,” Tina adds. “She seems really cool.”

“Yeah, well, she’s a scorned woman, now. I mean, come on,” Tink snaps. “I did the walk of shame once. It was mortifying, and that was without Jon kicking me out. Jack was mean, guys. He didn’t have to treat her that way.”

“Even the coldest, most self-assured chick would’ve taken a hit after last night. What he did to her…” I shake my head. “That was cold. And in front of us all. She must assume we think the worst.”

“We have an appointment with her tomorrow,” Iz murmurs. “For the girls’ fight. I don’t know that there’s much I can say that’ll help, but I’ll let her know we’re cool. I’ll try and stop her before she commits career suicide. She’s probably typing her resignation letter right now.”

“But, Bubs.” Joking, Jimmy whines, “She said he butt fucks us. I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.”

She smacks his stomach. “If you mention it tomorrow, I’ll stab you. Don’t you dare make it worse for her.”

“Fine,” he grumbles. “I won’t mention it. But you should know, I really wanna. I’m doing this for you.” He leans in close. “You owe me a hummer or something.”

“Dude!” Snapping his long leg out, Jon almost un-nuts my little brother. “That’s my sister! Shut the fudge up.”

Smiling, Jim bounces his brows and pulls Jon’s sister in for an inappropriate hug.

I just shake my head.

Since finding out Jimmy was in love with Jon’s baby sister, Jon has wavered between loving his brother, and hating his sister’s husband. It’s love/hate at its finest, and a constant source of confusion for my poor best friend .

You’d think that a whole decade would cool Jon’s attitude… but I think he’s getting worse with age.

The gate buzzer sounds and has our group looking back to the security screen. Swearing, I watch Jack sluggishly jog onto our street with Annie walking beside him. Soaked through with sweat, Jack’s hair hangs in his eyes and sticks to his forehead.

He looks awful.

Not once since I met him has he been this unfit. The amount of bad food, alcohol, and pot in his system is wreaking havoc on what was once the fittest body this country boasted.

I sigh. “You bunch of assholes. You wouldn’t stop bullshitting long enough to figure our shit out.”

Watching in the monitor, I follow Jack’s steps as he moves past his house, skips onto my porch steps, then stops at the front door.

Hesitating, he has our whole group holding our breath and waiting for his next move.

Visibly shaking, green faced, dripping sweat, he stands at my front door for a full minute before turning the knob and stepping through.

The kids whale on each other in the living room, then squeal with delight when they catch sight of their absentee uncle.

Expecting him to walk straight into the kitchen, I frown when the group of kids quiet but the doorway remains empty. Silently, Kit climbs from my lap and sneaks to the wall separating the living and dining spaces.

Watching her tiptoe and stop at the doorway, my heart thunders as she peeks around the corner and chokes on a cry. Big fat tears roll onto her cheeks, and standing to go fix whatever’s hurting her, I stop when she turns and shakes her head. Moving back across the room, she pushes me down and climbs into my lap the way my baby girl does most nights.

“Baby? What’s happening?”

“He’s hugging the kids.”

My breath races out on an odd mixture of relief and worry. He needs family. He definitely needs us. He needs to be brought back to his roots.

“Which one?”

Laughing softly, she fingers the hem of my shirt. “All of them. It’s a stack on, but he’s whispering sweet nothings into Em’s ear. I’d say he’s apologizing again for missing her party.”

I run feather soft strokes along her spine and breathe in the scent of coconuts. “Do you reckon it’s time to let him off the hook for that, yet?”

She shrugs. “Maybe. We’ll see. ”

Ten silent minutes after he walked into my home, Jack stops in the kitchen doorway; sweat soaked shirt, trembling hands, and Evie’s small hand clasping his to still the tremors.

She was always his girl. Since she was three and talked in the third person, they’ve been thick as thieves.

“Kit…” Shakily, he swipes his spare hand beneath his nose. Clearing his throat with a gentle cough, his tear-soaked eyes meet ours. “Can I come home?”