49. Reese

Mitch, Don, and I stand around the kitchen island, acting like we’re not spying on Cliff and Skyler.

They’re on the patio having an animated conversation about data analytics.

I didn’t know it was possible to get excited about data migrations, but they’re both practically foaming at the mouth.

Don slides a freshly steeped matcha tea in front of me. It’s in a tiny coconut with metal feet. He drops a metal straw in the cup and grins. “Cliff’s family is originally from Brazil.”

I sip the minty tea and sigh happily as it soothes my nagging headache.

Don’s gaze slips back to Cliff. “He doesn’t usually get to nerd out on numbers. I bet he’s in hog heaven right now.”

Mitch slides onto a stool next to me. “Do those two work together or something?”

“Cliff owns a consultancy that does work for Skyler’s company.”

“Ah.”

Mitch nods. “Have you and Cliff been together for a while?”

Don pauses, keeping his expression carefully neutral. “We’ve been married for seven years, so you could say that.”

Mitch turns his gaze back towards the patio. “Should I call him Uncle Cliff, then?”

“If you want.”

Don says quietly. “I think he’d like that.”

Don really is the mountain man version of Bo and Skyler’s dads. He almost looks more like Skyler than Skyler’s own dad does.

I stir my tea. “I can’t get over how much you look like your brothers.”

Don laughs, smiling at me. “I was just thinking the same thing about you and your mom.”

There’s an outburst of laughter from the patio. I trade a quick look with Mitch. It’s rare to see Skyler come out of his shell. He’s so into his conversation, he’s forgetting to hide his aches and pains, rubbing absently at his quads while they talk.

Don tilts his head. “Did Skyler tweak his leg?”

“Nah.”

Mitch sips his beer. “That’s just an old injury. From the accident.”

Don zeroes in on Mitch. “What accident?”

Mitch looks chagrined. “You didn’t know about that?”

Don shakes his head. “Kid, I barely knew you existed. Read that in the paper back when there still was a Silver Bend Press. Ever since that went out of print, it’s been radio silence.”

“Oh.”

Mitch scratches at the back of his head, suddenly uncomfortable. He casts a guilty look towards Skyler, who is completely unaware that he’s the subject of our conversation. “Well, there was a farming accident a few years ago.” He halts, looking around like somebody else might pick up the thread. I’m not helping him with this. I know how much Skyler hates this topic. Mitch clears his throat. “Skyler was driving one of the old open-cab tractors and he hit a wash-out and it rolled.”

“Oh, shit.”

Don mutters.

Mitch fiddles with his collar, then with his hands. “Skyler got pinned, and it crushed his leg. Dad managed to dig him out, but his hand got mangled in the process.”

Don’s face could be cut from granite. “How?”

“Drive shaft was still running. He brushed up against it.”

“He lose the hand?”

“No. But it doesn’t have much motion.”

Mitch shrugs. “They don’t really like to talk about it.”

Don frowns. “Why’s that?”

“Well, Skyler thinks it was his fault dad got hurt.”

Mitch gestures from one side to the other. “And dad thinks it was his fault Skyler got hurt. It’s a mess. We try to avoid that topic, to be honest.”

“Understood.”

Don moves to the far counter under the pretense of pulling ingredients together for lunch, but he just stands there, staring into space.

Mitch looks at me, guilt written all over his face. I reach out and squeeze his knee, giving it a little shake. If it was up to me, I’d force Brad and Skyler to sit down and hash it out. They’re both obviously carrying baggage over that accident.

But it’s not up to me. All I can do is watch from afar.

Skyler and Cliff come back inside, noting the stiff atmosphere.

Cliff claps his hands together. “Who’s up for another round of drinks?”

Skyler comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I lean back into his chest, breathing him in. He glances down at Mitch, doing a double take when he sees Mitch’s face.

He leans down so he can murmur in my ear. “Are they dying in here?”

I shake my head, reaching up to curve my hand around the back of his neck. “Not necessarily. We just needed the party to come back inside.”

He squeezes me tighter. “I’m the party, huh?”

I giggle when he tickles my ribs.

Mitch shakes his head. “You two make me want to barf.”

But he’s grinning as he slips off his stool. He circles around the counter, acting as sous chef while Cliff passes him a bushel load of vegetables to chop.

Skyler moves my hair, sliding it over one shoulder so that he can kiss my neck. “Did I mention I like your hair this morning?”

“You did. Lies, upon lies.”

“It’s so soft. Like a cloud.”

I grin. “A frizz ball.”

Cliff shakes a carrot at me. “He had it right the first time. It’s like a gorgeous cloud.”

I blush, realizing that everyone was watching us.

But I can feel Skyler’s soft laughter rumbling against my spine and that makes it all worthwhile.