“Joe? It’s Ryan here.” Orion chewed his lip as he paced back and forth along the porch.

The late afternoon brought a brief respite between Gramma duties, and he’d taken the chance to get outside while she napped on the couch. He didn’t need anyone overhearing him negotiating more time off.

“Ah, Ryan. I’ve been expecting to hear from you. What’s the situation?”

“Well, sir… I was going to ask you that question.” Orion’s palms were sweaty. “I appreciate getting so much time off, but my family situation is, uh, not better yet.”

“I can’t give you much more time off.” Joe had always been straightforward, at least, and Orion appreciated that. At least Orion knew what he was getting. No backstabbing or snark behind his back. “We have a few big jobs coming up, and I’m already stretched thin. If one guy gets sick right now, it’ll screw everything up.”

“Right,” Orion mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

Gramma would insist until the cows came home that he could head back and she’d be fine, but she also took three times as long to get dressed as she should have. She leaned on surfaces when she thought nobody was looking. It was a goddamn miracle she was already moving around as much as she was.

But his job wasn’t waiting, either.

Orion fucking hated this. There was no worse predicament than his two biggest priorities clashing. Choosing between work and family was an impossible game.

He couldn’t just quit his job, but he also couldn’t head home before his job here was done. Unpaid caring work was no less of a responsibility than a slightly different kind of paid caring work.

And then there was Gabriel. They weren’t even together, so it was strange to him that he was even considering it, but… he felt like he couldn’t leave him unprotected. Not with Chad being an asshole. He was sure Gabriel hadn’t been telling him the whole truth. It was probably even worse than he’d let on.

“Ryan?” It was Joe, shaking him out of his reverie. “I can give you another week before I need you back, or your notice so I can find and train another guy.”

“That’s fair,” Orion answered, clearing his throat. “More than fair. Thanks, Joe. Appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, kid. Don’t throw away a good career, but don’t walk away from what matters, either. I’d be happy to have you back, whether that’s tomorrow or next year. Call me once you’ve made up your mind.” Without being told, Joe seemed to know Orion’s commitment to the job—the lifestyle—was wavering.

“Thanks.” It meant a lot coming from a hard-ass like Joe. “I’ll do that, sir.”

Once he’d hung up, Orion leaned on the railing, watching the rustling reeds in the overgrown pond at the side of the property. The other side of the house was neglected in favor of the farm: fields, outbuildings with equipment, greenhouses, and cold storage.

It was a small enterprise, but it was pretty damn big for a family business. Speaking of which, Orion was pretty sure he’d heard the front door while he was talking to Joe.

He headed back around the front of the building and came face-to-face with Uncle Pete.

“Why is Mom cooking?” Uncle Pete barked at him.

Taken aback by the sudden confrontation, Orion just blinked calmly. Escalating wasn’t in his nature anymore. “I don’t know—why?”

“Because you’re not in there making sure she doesn’t do it.” Pete looked pissed.

Orion nodded slightly and headed for the front door. “Because I can’t watch her twenty-four-seven like some creepy stalker. She’d lasso me to the couch before long.”

Uh oh. Even the joke didn’t make Pete smile. He just jerked his thumb toward the door. “If she’s still doing everything herself, what’s the goddamn point of having you around?”

Orion paused, his hand on the knob of the front door. “Really?” He wasn’t going to rise to the bait, but he also wasn’t about to let Pete walk all over him just because he was having a bad day.

“You oughta know what she does when we’re not there to stop her. She’d be on the frigging roof if she had half a chance.”

Orion shook his head. “You’re acting like she can’t judge her own recovery. She managed for years without me here. And for years before you came along.”

“You think that makes it okay, fucking off every evening while she sneaks around cleaning the house?”

Orion paused and raised an eyebrow. “Is she? And you didn’t tell me she’s doing this before now… because?”

That at least interrupted Pete for a few seconds as he looked abashed, rubbing his hand along his scruffy chin. Then he picked up the thread of his argument again, huffing and shaking his head. “Not the point.”

Right now, Orion was more worried about Gramma than he was about finishing this conversation. “We’ll talk later. You have every opportunity to approach me with concerns at a better time,” he told Pete. Then, he pushed the door open and headed inside.

Gramma was sitting on a dining room chair at the stove, stirring sauce with a wooden spoon. She held the pot handle with her other hand. At that level, the pot wasn’t quite above her head, but nearly.

Orion sighed and smiled. “Gramma,” he said, shaking his head as Pete followed him inside. “What have I told you?”

She looked worried as she glanced between the two of them. “I haven’t been cleaning every day, Pete.”

Orion stifled his sigh, but didn’t stop himself from glaring over at his uncle. And this is why this conversation should have been had elsewhere.

Pete wasn’t discouraged, though. “But you were the other day. Mom, you have to let Orion help.”

“I’m liking having my grandson home, whether or not I listen to him. But I don’t like conflict coming into my house,” Gramma told him sternly.

Uh oh. Both Orion and Pete stood a little straighter, recognizing her mom voice. “Sorry, ma’am,” Orion murmured.

She looked expectantly at Pete, who mumbled an apology and moved to the dining room table. He gestured between Orion and the stove, as if Orion needed instruction. It was patronizing, and it stuck in Orion’s throat, but he swallowed back the retort.

I’m not a kid, and I’m not a civvie. I know how to stay cool.

After supper was served, and after several minutes of awkward silence, Gramma was the first one to speak.

“I’m sorry if I’m being a burden.”

“No—” both Pete and Orion rushed to say. They both paused and looked at one another, and Gramma took advantage of the moment of silent conflict.

“I don’t like it when my boys are on the outs. Pete—how about you fill Orion in on what’s really going on?”

Pete looked startled, then evasive. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, bless your heart. As if I didn’t know,” Gramma clicked her tongue.

“I’m getting divorced.”

There were a few long moments of silence as both Orion and his grandma stared at Pete.

Then, Gramma set down her fork with a quiet clink and opened her arms.

Pete stood up slowly and moved over to crouch by her chair, hugging her as she held him.

Even Orion caught his breath, looking away for a moment to give them privacy. It felt weirdly intrusive to watch her mothering instincts coming to bear on someone other than him.

Orion hadn’t seen much of Maggie around the farm, but she had her own career. Some kind of interior decoration business, he was pretty sure. Or event catering. He couldn’t even remember that much. They’d gotten married only a few years ago.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Gramma murmured. “I hadn’t heard that.”

Pete laughed, the sound muffled. “Yeah. I know. But I needed to tell you sometime.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Pete.” Orion ran a hand down his face as the pieces fell into place: Pete being so absorbed with the farm work, always the first in and last out, and his attitude lately.

Pete finally rose to his feet and waved it off as he took his chair again. “I should have said something earlier, but we were… you know. Figuring out the details.”

Thank God they don’t have kids, Orion thought. But is he getting the house? God, that’s a lot to straighten out. “Yeah, of course.”

“I thought the stress of losing the Bartmann’s contract was getting to you,” Gramma said, shaking her head. “I had no idea you and Maggie…”

“Yeah, well.” Pete waved his hand again, clearly indicating he wasn’t ready to say more yet. “It’s been coming for a while. Probably since day one. But yeah, that contract.”

“The Bartmann’s…?” Orion questioned hesitantly.

Gramma looked over at him. “A grocery chain from McLennan county.”

“Right.”

“They’re ditching us for some cheap imports.” She heaved a slow sigh. “It was one of the first contracts I signed after I restructured the company a few decades ago. It’s mostly sentimental value, though. It’ll free us up to supply more local businesses. Then we can take more of a role in the spring festival—sponsor the veggie growing contests. Bring the business back to Hidden Creek.”

“That’s a good spin to put on it,” Orion agreed, leaning over the table to pat her hand. “Still. That sucks. Sorry.”

They resumed eating, the tension in the air thinner, if not gone entirely.

“With all that on your mind, no wonder you want to get involved,” Orion said suddenly, a few moments later, thinking out loud. “I think you just need a distraction. Right?”

“What kind?” She looked suspicious. “Sudoku is fun for about an hour, and then I need to be outside with my toes in the dirt.”

Orion smiled as the childhood memories came back to mind: he and Gramma stomping around freshly-plowed fields, his uncles laughing at the sight of their nephew and mom playing.

With Gramma sidelined and Uncle Pete distracted, he could see an awfully big pair of boots waiting to be filled. And… well… there was nobody better around to do it, even if he had no clue what he was doing.

But then, neither had they for all these years. They’d just made do, guessing at what the best course of action was. Hadn’t turned out too bad.

So he could do it too—bluff his way through and fake it ’til he made it. He prepared himself to sound confident as he glanced between them. He was gonna make this promise before he even knew how he’d fill it.

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out.”