Beauty and the Mustache

“Hey! He was the one who woke me up at six in the morning.”

“Settle your mettle, woman. I’m just saying it’s nice to see you guys behaving like brother and sister is all.”

I felt Drew stiffen beside me, his hand on my shoulder flexed. I stole a glance at him and found his handsome face marred with a pensive frown. We walked several more paces in strained silence before Drew cleared his throat and slowed our steps.

“Beau,” Drew said, and his tone brought the three of us to a stop. “It’s not what you think.”

My eyes widened and I faced Drew, gave him my very best what-the-hell-are-you-doing face. He ignored me.

Beau gave both of us a perplexed grin and stepped away, holding his hands up. “No, Drew. Man, I wasn’t thinking that at all. I would never think that. Like I said, brother and sister.”

“Beau, it’s not like that.” Drew said this slowly, his arm on my shoulders tightening.

“Oh God,” I said on a quick exhale then closed my eyes.

“Drew, man, I know.”

“No. Beau, listen to me. I have feelings for your sister that are not brotherly.” He paused, his hand dropped to my waist, and he pressed me against his side.

My blood pressure spiked. I couldn’t open my eyes. The silence was just too awkward, too awful. Furthermore, I didn’t understand why he’d done it. He could have just walked along saying nothing, agreeing to nothing, contradicting nothing.

“Wait…wait, wait, wait….” I heard Beau huff. “Are you saying that you and Ash, that you two are….”

“Yes,” Drew said. “That’s right. And I respect you and Ashley too much to mislead you.”

Beau huffed again, and I opened one of my eyes to peek at my brother. Beau was looking at me with incredulous worry.

“Ash….” He took a step closer to me, his tone solemn. “I like Drew and all, he’s done a lot for us, but are you sure about this? No offense, Drew.” He shot a look at Drew then back at me. “What do you have to say?”

I glanced at Drew, found him watching me with his quicksilver eyes, his expression open, unguarded, and trusting. I couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Yes,” I said to Drew then faced my brother. “Yes, Beau. The answer is yes. Yes, I have no sisterly feelings for Drew. Yes, we’re getting along just fine, better than fine, way better than fine. But thank you.” I stepped away from Drew and reached for my brother’s shoulders, standing on my tiptoes to give his cheek a kiss. “Thank you for caring what I think.”

He smiled down at me like I was crazy. “Ashley, of course I care what you think. You’re my sister. If you’re not happy, then I’ll make sure….” His eyes slid over to Drew’s. “I’ll make sure no one is happy.”

***

Momma hadn’t woken up since I’d left to go butcher the roosters, which meant she also hadn’t eaten anything.

We still hadn’t heard from my father.

Drew went to work on the pie as soon as we arrived home, but I couldn’t sit still. My neck itched and I felt like I had bees behind my eyes all through dinner. The food, Jethro’s meatloaf, which was usually exceptionally tasty, was like sawdust in my mouth.

I insisted on doing the dishes, mostly because I needed to be moving around, I needed to be doing something. I finished in record time then set my mind to reorganizing the spice drawer.

When Joe, the night nurse, arrived, I followed him into the den. Cletus was there, sitting on my cot in his pajamas and reading what appeared to be a scientific journal.

Drew was also present. He was reading to Momma from the book The Neverending Story. I managed to give him a small smile, and the smile he tossed back did a good bit to both increase and settle my nerves.

“She still hasn’t eaten?” Joe asked this to the room, his voice quiet and concerned.

“No, she hasn’t,” I said, and my eyes met Joe’s. “Is it time for a tube?” I already knew the answer to this question.

Before Joe could respond, Drew said, “She doesn’t want that. It’s in her living will. She said she doesn’t want a feeding tube.”

My gaze darted to his. His eyes held an apology, but the set of his jaw told me it wasn’t negotiable.

“On Monday she was laughing and joking around.” Cletus said this from the cot. “Why is she so quiet? It’s only been five days.”

“Maybe she’s just tired,” I said, but it sounded completely lame.

I looked her over. A small sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead and upper lip. I laid my hand from temple to temple to check her temperature. She was cool.

“She doesn’t have a temperature,” Joe said. I could feel his eyes on me.

I nodded then addressed my next words to Cletus. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re in my spot.”

Cletus shook his head. “Nah. This is my spot tonight. You’ve been hogging it, and I want it.”

“Cletus….”

“Don’t look at me that way, baby sister. I’ll tell you what, if you can lift me up and carry me to my bed, then you can have this one. As it is, I’m tired and ready to sleep.” As though to punctuate his words he yawned and waved us toward the door. “Now get out of here. I already beat Joe at chess sixty times this week.”

“It was twelve times.”

“Yeah, might as well have been sixty.” He yawned again. “Go on, get.”

Joe chuckled as he left. Drew stood, placed his book on the wooden chair, and crossed to me. I wasn’t watching him. I was focused on and thinking about the perspiration covering my mother’s upper lip. It didn’t make any sense. The room was cool, but not cold. She felt cool, not clammy. I didn’t get it.

Drew fit his hand in mine and tugged on it, leading me out of the room. Once the door closed behind us, he pulled me down the hall, to the stairs, and up to my room. I followed him, still thinking about Momma’s lip and forehead, thumbing through my brain and all the possible causes for her sudden sleepiness and lack of interest in food.

I wondered if I should wake her up to eat the pie. I was pretty sure she’d be interested in pie.

“Hey…where you going?” Jethro called after us, rousing me from my thoughts.

“I’m taking Ashley to bed,” Drew responded without turning to look at my brother or stopping our ascent up the stairs.

“Oh.” I saw Jethro nod, his gaze watching us. Abruptly his eyes narrowed and he planted his hands on his hips, but he said nothing else.

Drew led me into my room and closed the door behind us. I was tired. I was also distracted. So when Drew turned and kissed me—a soft, lingering closed-mouth kiss that made me forget what I’d been thinking about and where I was—my hands twisted around his neck and I kissed him back, pressing my body to his.

We did this for a while. He kissed me. I kissed him back. He seemed to be holding himself on a tight leash, because he was controlling the intensity level by withdrawing every so often and placing feathery kisses on my neck and collarbone. His hands stroked and massaged my back, yet never felt anything but frustratingly comforting.

However, when the back of my knees hit the bed and I fell backward, and he climbed onto it and loomed above me, the room—and everything else—came into focus.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute….” I pressed my hands to his chest as he hovered over me, bending to bite my neck. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing, he whispered in my ear then licked my earlobe.

I shivered, swallowed, and squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Why?” He continued to kiss, lick, bite—repeat.

“Because I….” I breathed out a ragged sigh. “Because I’m worried about Momma.”

He stopped his sweet ministrations and lifted his head, his eyes moving over my face. He seemed to be considering me as well as what I’d just said.

After several long moments, he lay on his side next to me and threaded his fingers through the long locks.

“I know, Sugar. I was just trying to distract you.”

I turned on my side and faced him. “You were doing a good job.”

His lips twisted to the side and he watched me, his hands moving in my hair, then he surprised me by saying, “I’d like to sleep here with you tonight.”

I opened my mouth, but didn’t know how to respond because I wasn’t sure what he was asking.

Reading my mind, he added, “Just sleep. I just want to sleep.”

“Oh.” I nodded my understanding, thinking about just sleeping next to Drew and finding that I quite liked the idea. The thought of hugging someone all night long was really appealing, especially if that person was Drew. It would be like having a big, strong, Viking man-pillow.

I realized he was still waiting for my answer, so I leaned forward and brushed a kiss against his mouth. “Yes. That would be nice. Thank you.”

His eyes narrowed as I drew away. “You need to stop thanking me.”

“I can’t help it.” I kissed him again then whispered against his mouth, “I was raised with manners.”

***

I awoke abruptly for no reason in particular and was startled by the surrounding darkness. It took me about ten seconds to figure out that I was in my room—not in the den—and that Drew was next to me, fast asleep.