CHAPTER FIVE

Amelia

I showered and dressed and tiptoed down to the kitchen below. It wasn’t quite eight o’clock yet. My body was not yet used to the fact that I was on holiday. It seemed the only other person in the house who was still on work-schedule was Brett.

“Hi, sis,” he said quietly. He was sitting at the table alone, still in his nightgown, a cup of coffee and his phone out in front of him. I smiled into his bluntly-handsome face.

“Hi, bro. You couldn’t sleep?” I asked. He looked tired, gray imprints under his sky-blue eyes.

“I slept,” he laughed, then winced at the noise. “I just can’t seem to go on holiday.” He sighed. “Old habits and all that.”

“Me too,” I nodded.

“Coffee?” He stood and pushed in his chair with exaggerated quietness and went to the kettle.

“Yes, thanks, bro.” I took a seat at the table, breathing in the morning scent of coffee and toothpaste and relaxing in the chic simplicity of my brother’s home’s kitchen. He stirred my coffee and brought it to me—black and sweet, just as I liked it. I smiled.

“You always remember how I like my coffee.”

“Of course I do,” Brett whispered back. “Not just because you’re my favorite sister, but ‘cos it’s the opposite to mine.”

I laughed. “I am your only sister, Brett.” He grinned.

“But you’re still my favorite.”

I sighed and gave him a weary smile. “I missed you.”

“Me too.”

We sat in silence for a while. I sipped coffee and appreciated having time with my brother. It was just like when we were kids. I breathed on the steam, watching it make patterns. He was looking through the open window where the faintest orange sunrise was starting.

“You didn’t mind about…” he tossed a hand toward the stairs indicating—I guessed—Carson’s presence in the room opposite the stairwell.

I sighed. It was typical of my mischievous and absentminded brother that he would have thought to invite Carson when I was here. Quite whether he meant for us to meet up or whether it was a grand overhaul of memory, I wasn’t sure.

“No, Brett.”

“You’re sure?”

Upstairs, we heard footsteps cross the ceiling and someone went into the shower. The kids giggled. I tried to decide what I was feeling.

“It’s just…you might have warned me.”

“Carson?” he asked, sipping his coffee thoughtfully.

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“I’m sorry, sis,” Brett said softly. “It’s just…I couldn’t leave him alone.”

“I know,” I said. “You told me earlier. But…”

“But what?” he asked, brow raised in curious obliviousness.

I stared. “Brett, you might have told me more!” I hadn’t meant to raise my voice, but it sounded as if everyone was waking anyways. “I’m sorry,” I added, slumping a little. “I just find it hard to figure out how much of him has changed and how much hasn’t.”

“I know.” Brett sighed. He slumped forward, elbows on knees. “I just didn’t know if it’d upset you.”

“Well, seeing him face-to-face didn’t seem like something upsetting, so…”

Brett heard the irony in my voice and closed his eyes momentarily. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be,” I said softly. “You didn’t do it.”

“No.” He knew what I meant. The issues with Carson and I weren’t his fault. “Well, I guess I should fill you in on some details.”

“Is he likely to overhear it?” I asked, casting my eyes in the direction of the stairs.

“I shouldn’t think so,” Brett observed. “He’s probably sleeping. We can close the kitchen door if you’d prefer.”

I nodded.

“Carson got back from the army last year,” Brett explained, closing the door and joining me here. “He contacted me about a month afterward. Said he was in Boulder.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know he lived in Boulder. His parents used to live in Aspen.

“He came to see me, once.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know that either. Though I probably should have guessed, since the kids knew who he was.

“He was…quite different.”

“He seemed the same to me,” I said. He was a little older, his face softer with a few lines where there hadn’t been any before, but he still had the same sparkling eyes, the wicked smile. He was Carson and unfortunately my heart hadn’t forgotten him.

“Well, in some way, yeah,” Brett said carefully. “The war…it does things to people Mel.”

“I imagine so,” I said carefully.

“He was…he was having trouble when he got back,” Brett explained. “I think he’s okay now. But it was hard for him at first. To adjust. To return.”

“I can imagine,” I repeated myself, though I wasn’t sure I really could. I had read a bit about the cost of war—the way soldiers were affected by it years afterward, the toll it took on their lives. All I knew about it was that it was beyond what I could comprehend.

“He’s okay now,” Brett said. “At least, he says he’s stabilized.”

“Good,” I said feelingly. The thought of quiet, distant Carson being wounded in ways I couldn’t see troubled me. He was stable; a rock. That was one of the things I had loved about him: that there was never a problem that seemed too big for him. He liked challenges. Actually, he didn’t see anything as impossible, so I guess there weren’t any challenges to him.

“I guess I shouldn’t have invited him here,” Brett said softly. “But I couldn’t not.”

“I understand.”

That, I did understand. Brett was always warmhearted. He had filled our house with people and laughter when I was growing up; and he was always holding open arms out. My mom had always said he was overly-generous, that he would bankrupt himself one day. I hadn’t believed her.

“Reese wasn’t sure about it,” Brett confided.

Reese was always cautious. I thought, not for the first time, that Nature had created Brett and Reese for partners. As careless and lively as Brett was, Reese was thoughtful and reserved. She was a high-powered executive for a boutique chain and she took no nonsense from anyone; not even from Brett. A more light and fun-loving person, Brett’s friendly openness was tempered by her care.

“If you wanted to have him here, I think it was the right thing,” I said hesitantly.

“Thanks, sister.” Brett smiled. He patted my hand where it lay on the table in front of him. “I appreciate it.”

I smiled. Together we sat in the comfortable silence of his kitchen and listened to the noises in the street, the ticking clock, the breeze. The clock said it was eight-thirty and I yawned. I really was tired after the day’s driving.

“Want to go to sleep again?” Brett asked, looking at me caringly. “The rest of them will probably only join us at nine or so.”

“I’m okay,” I lied. In truth, the tension and long drive had just caught up with me. I would love to take a rest. My body just didn’t want to play along and let me off the hook.

“Well, then,” Brett smiled, patting my hand again. “We have a whole week to talk.”

“We do,” I agreed. “Almost Christmas too.”

Brett laughed. “Isn’t it, though? I really should get some last-minute shopping.”

I rolled my eyes. That was typical Brett. “You mean, you haven’t done your gifts yet?”

“Two of them,” he admitted. I laughed.

“Brett, my brother, don’t ever change.”

He chuckled. “I would have thought change was what I needed most right now.”

“No,” I insisted, looking into his eyes fondly. “If you changed, I wouldn’t know what was going on. You’re my anchor. If you weren’t unpredictable, everything would change.”

Brett smiled. “Thanks, sis.”

“Don’t mention it,” I laughed. “Now, I really am going to need some more coffee, before I fall asleep here at the table.”

“I can recommend the spare room.” Brett grinned. “More comfortable by far.”

I laughed. “I believe it, brother. It was last night.”

I stood to make more coffee and pushed my chair in, blinking to keep myself awake. He stood too and hugged me.

“It’s so good to have you here, sis.”

I squeezed his shoulder as we stepped apart, looking up into his earnest, smiling face. “It’s good to be here,” I said sincerely.

As I made coffee, Reese appeared in the kitchen, already dressed. “Hey! Hello,” she said warmly.

“Hi,” I said, then turned back to the minutiae of making coffee. I heard someone cross the ceiling, a heavier footfall, and my heart tightened, knowing who it was. Carson.

The heart is a strange thing and my own had not forgotten Carson Grant.

“I’ll go get dressed,” Brett said, grinning. “I can’t be the only one at breakfast without clothes.”

Reese laughed. “You do have clothes.”

“Well, I’d probably have gotten arrested if I didn’t,” he laughed. “Mr. Peterson next door would have looked through here and phoned the police.”

We all laughed and I felt glad that I had come to visit.

If I could just sort out my feelings about Carson, I thought, I would be completely happy.

While Brett was upstairs getting dressed, the kids came down to join us.

“Auntie Amelia!” Cayley said cheerfully. “There you are.” She slid into the seat beside me and I smiled at her.

“Did you sleep?”

“Very well, thank you.” She replied, voice prim.

I smiled. “That’s good. Josh?”

“I slept like an elephant!” he declared proudly. I frowned, confused.

“How do elephants sleep?”

“No!” he giggled. “Not like an elephant. I slept so big as an elephant.” He held out his arms, an all-encompassing gesture.

“Oh!” I laughed, the inexorable logic of it lifting my mood. “Good.”

Cayley giggled. “Did you sleep as big as an elephant, auntie?”

I smiled. “I slept a bit.”

As Reese passed me the milk and I settled down to breakfast, I thought that if only I could keep my mind off Carson Grant I might sleep as big as an elephant after all.