Chapter 41

LYNN

"Respond, dammit!" I growl at my phone as I shift restlessly on a kitchen chair two hours later.

"What did that phone do to earn such a talking to?" Mama sends me a grin as she enters the kitchen with a giant tote bag on her arm. "Or is it Joey who did something to draw your ire?"

"What?" I shake my head. "Sorry. I'm just waiting for somebody to text me." Since I don't want to involve Mama in this drama, I change the subject. "How'd you get your keys?" The boys stole hers as well as mine, knowing I'd just take Mama's car to Raleigh.

"Darlin', that's what the spare set is for." Her tone implies I should have known to do the same. Too bad Priscilla only has one key, poor girl.

Mama sets her tote on the table with a loud clunk.

"What's in the bag?" I ask.

"Well, I figured it might be good to have some hooch when I talk to Winston again about what might be going on."

Crap. Mama now thinks this Larry thing is tied to Winston's daughter somehow. I knew Cash should have kept his mouth shut.

"I think we should hold off on that, Mama," I say.

She pats my hand that doesn't have a death grip on the phone. "I know you wanted to go confront that man about Larry, but y'all know you'll have to call the police eventually, right?"

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that." I'm hoping that answer will suffice and she won't press me for details. Predictably, it doesn't work.

Mama parks her butt in the chair next to me and gives me that look. The one every mom uses when she's got something to say that you're not gonna like. "Did I ever tell you about the time your dad took me to get a fresh chicken?"

Huh? "No?" It's supposed to be an answer, not a question, but I'm scared of where this conversation is going. With Mama, you never know.

"It was when we were still dating as teenagers. Your dad started bragging about how he was teaching himself to cook, so I told him I wanted him to make me a chicken dinner."

"Dad couldn't cook," I remind Mama. The man could grill a mean burger, but anything involving an oven was just asking for trouble.

"Don't I know it," Mama says, smiling like she always does when she talks about my dad. "But he was determined, and I thought it was sweet. Since he didn't have two pennies to rub together, though, he decided we should visit the farm down the way and barter for a bird. After he and the farmer worked out a deal, we all went back to the pen where they kept the chickens. I don't know what my naive brain was expecting, but it sure wasn't to see the farmer grab a chicken by its neck, throw it on a propped-up sheet of plywood, and hack its head off with a giant cleaver like it was nothing."

I slap my hand over my mouth. "Oh my god, Mama! That's disgusting!" The universe keeps sending me evidence that I should become a vegetarian, so I don't know why I'm still walking around eating bacon and burgers and… chicken. Maybe I'm not so bright after all.

"Well, it was shocking, I agree." She laughs at my expression. "But not nearly as much as what happened next."

"I am so afraid to ask."

"I swear on Adrina's bolognese recipe, that chicken jumped right off the plywood and started running straight for the barn—with no head! The damn thing disappeared through the barn doors before we could blink. I'll never forget your dad and the farmer running after it, shouting like it could hear them. ‘That's my girl's dinner!' Dad was yelling." She wipes tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes while I stare at her in horror.

"Mama, what in the world does this have to do with calling the police about Larry?"

Still giggling, she manages to say, "Well, if you'd let me finish…" I put my hands out to indicate she has the floor, although I'm sure I'll regret it. "It took them nearly a half hour to find that chicken. Of course, it had keeled over by that time, as I'm sure you've guessed. And when we finally got back to my parents' house, wouldn't you know there was a police cruiser in our driveway waiting to bring your dad down to the station."

"Why? What did he do?"

She bats her hand in the air at my question. "Oh, probably nothing. I don't remember. He was always on the local cops' list of boys to talk to when trouble cropped up in town. I ended up having to pluck and cook that darn bird in the end, although it was probably for the best since nobody got food poisoning that way."

I shake my head at her. "I can't believe you never told us that story." We have a tradition of telling all sorts of stories about my dad, especially on his birthday. Yet I've never heard that one, not that I really care to again—at least not in such detail. "So… what does it have to do with Larry?"

Mama shrugs and starts unpacking the booze from her tote bag. "Not much. I just thought you'd like to hear a story about your dad. I know he's been on your mind, darlin'. Just like I know he'd be damn proud of his girl."

As usual, Mama is ten steps ahead. "Mama." It's all I can say since tears are suddenly clogging my throat.

"I know you and the boys are probably hatching a plan, and you don't need to tell me about it if you don't want to. I trust you all to do what's right and use your heads."

And that's when I realize we've all been treating Mama the same way I've been complaining about how everybody treats me. Even I've been shielding Mama from things out of worry for her—things she has a right to know more than anybody. Hell, I was determined to leave this conversation without telling her about Jeremy or any of the new suspicions I might have. Not because I don't think she can handle it or has no right to know, but because I love her. And I don't want to see her hurt or worried if I can do something to fix it.

Just like Joey has been doing.

And just like my brothers always want to do for me. And for each other. They've all kept shit from not only me but each other these last months, always with the hope that they could leave their siblings breathing easy after all we've been through.

But that shit's about to end. Right now.

Because, just like when Dad was alive, we Brooks are stronger together than we ever could be apart.

Right on cue, my text notification dings, and when I tap the screen, my text chat with Guy Taylor appears, complete with the photo of Jeremy I texted an hour ago asking Guy to identify him as Eddie Dante.

Guy:

Yes, that's the same Eddie. Good luck with your conversation. I hope you find some connection to your father.

I push back my anger at Jeremy long enough to look Mama in the eye. "We've got a lot to talk about. You may as well crack open the hooch because this is gonna take a minute."

* * *

Two hours later,Mama and I have formulated a plan and called in a few reinforcements to execute Operation Nail Jeremy to the Wall. Eh, we're still working on the name, but at least we're confident in both the plan's success and Jeremy's predictability.

I've got to say, Mama's got quite the elaborate revenge fantasy going on for someone who was a huge Jeremy fan before today. Jeremy won't know what hit him.

"Plotting a sting operation is tiring," Mama says over a yawn as she takes her glass to the sink.

"I don't know. I feel restless more than anything," I respond, propping my chin on my hand and spinning my empty glass on the table. Maybe I should call Sadie.

"That's because you're thinking about Joey Martel."

"I am not," I lie. I'm absolutely thinking about Joey—and how unfair I might have been.

"Just because you change the subject every time I bring up his name doesn't mean I can't see right through you." Mama doesn't even try to hide her smug grin. "You wouldn't even know about Jeremy if it wasn't for him, that's all I'm saying." She wants to use Joey in our plan, but I pushed for Hollis instead. That girl can throw down.

I drop my hand and straighten in my chair. "Mama, I can make my own choices. I've been doing it for a long time."

"True. You've always been just as headstrong as your brothers—sometimes more so. I suppose you can thank both me and your father for that."

And I don't know why I choose this moment to tell Mama what I've been keeping to myself for years, but it just spills out. "I used to hear you cry yourself to sleep." Oh, who am I kidding? I know precisely why it's been on my mind. Joey. Specifically, me being scared shitless that he told me he loves me. And then he went and stood up for me in a way I can't possibly ignore.

All signs of smugness fade from Mama's face, so I know I don't need to explain further. But to my surprise, her smile remains, only it's softer now. "I still miss him. But I'm thankful for all the time we had."

"I know you miss him. Just like I know the way you walk around every day like life couldn't be better is you hiding your broken heart. And I know it because I'm walking around with the same heart." My voice cracks on the last words.

"Oh, sweetheart." She closes the space between us and bends to wrap her arms around me. "My heart heals a little more each day. It's not broken. I'm so sorry yours isn't doing the same."

"But how?" I ask into her wild curls. "Dad was everything to you."

She releases me to crouch at my side and cup my face in her hands. "Not everything. I have you. And your brothers. And Adrina and Wes and a new daughter-in-law soon. I have a full life, and the best way to honor your dad is to wring every bit of joy out of it that I can." She brushes away the tear that escapes my eye. "And he wants the same for you, I promise. He wants you to live big, love big, and fill your life up till your cup overflows."

"I'm trying, Mama," I croak.

"Darlin', I don't mean to call you a liar, but I see a woman who's holding on tight with both hands to keep in control of damn near everything. You're the oldest twenty-one-year-old I've ever met."

I try rolling my eyes, but it doesn't take. All I can think of is how Joey told me the exact same thing not so long ago.

"What's wrong with securing my future and staying focused?"

"Is that what you're doing? Or are you hiding behind it? Maybe pushing away the chance at happy by holding those reins so tight?" She tilts her head, her eyes warm on me.

"I know what you're implying, Mama, but I don't need a man to make me happy."

"You're right about that. Absolutely."

I give her a quick nod, and she releases my face. "Glad we got that straight."

My words make her smile, which is not exactly what I was going for. "But when's the last time you stuck your neck out there without knowing how things would turn out or without planning for every eventuality? Even in your wild teenage days, you never put yourself in any situation without a plan B and C. Don't think I didn't notice you only broke curfew or ran around with boys to try to convince me you were doing fine like any other teenager. There was no way you were ever going to run off with the likes of Ben Weller. Let's be real."

Dammit. Busted.

I sigh. "I sure did give Cash a run for his money, though, didn't I?" I can't help the curve of my lips at the mental image of Cash pulling his hair out over me messing with boys in high school.

"I'm surprised he's not gray yet, to be honest," Mama responds, patting my knee.

We smile at each other for a few beats of silence before Mama says, "Do something for me, darlin', would you?" When I nod, she continues, "Let go with both hands and throw your arms in the air. Enjoy that rollercoaster to its fullest. Your family will be the safety harness, and provided a hurricane doesn't take us all out, we'll keep you safe just like you'll keep us. It's time to go chase happy and leave safe behind."

She picks up my phone and holds it out to me.

I blink down at it before meeting her eyes again. "I thought we agreed happy doesn't need to be about a guy."

"It doesn't. But does Joey make you happy?"

I immediately open my mouth to rebut, but she cuts me off with a finger in the air. "And don't lie to me, girl. I've known you since you were a tiny bald eagle chick screaming your naked head off."

So, I do the smart thing and take the phone from Mama, keeping my mouth shut as I do.