Chapter Fourteen
MAX HOVERED with his hand poised to knock on Jed’s closed bedroom door. It was sunrise, but he knew Jed would be awake. Jed was always awake, especially in that eerie twilight before dusk and dawn. Sometimes, an afternoon nap on the couch seemed to be the only sleep he’d get for days.
Max shifted his weight from one foot to the other, rubbing his bleary eyes with his other hand. He was hungover, but that would teach him for trying to drown out Kim’s nagging with four bottles of Nick’s fancy imported beer. Max didn’t drink often, at least not to excess, and when he did it went straight to his head.
And other parts of his body, it seemed, as he’d woken up with the distinct sense that he owed Jed an apology.
He didn’t know what had possessed him to kiss Jed, but beyond a bellyful of beer he was at a loss to explain himself. He was attracted to Jed, of that there was no doubt, but he’d been drawn to him from the beginning and learned to live with it, so what was so different about yesterday? What had changed?
Perhaps it was Jed. For reasons Max didn’t quite understand, leaving him even for one night had been horrendous. Jed was a grown man, a soldier, and Max knew he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. His worry, he supposed, was that Jed wouldn’t bother.
Max snorted softly. That might explain the full-to-bursting refrigerator and canine babysitter, but it didn’t explain why he’d felt the need to shove his tongue in Jed’s mouth. He tried to not think about the fact that before he’d come to his senses and fled the room, Jed had definitely kissed him back.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked again and called Jed’s name, but nothing. Eventually, he steeled his nerve and pushed open the door.
The room was empty. Max took in the perfect order and neatly made bed. His gaze fell on the huge atlas, covered with its new array of bright-green pins, and heat flooded his cheeks, overcoming the renewed fascination he had with Jed’s travels. Flustered, Max retreated outside to resume his search.
He came up blank. Jed’s truck was parked in the yard, but he was nowhere to be seen. Max checked the boat shed, the greenhouse, and finally the jetty, but saw no sign of him anywhere. Confused, he drifted back inside and set about making a comforting breakfast to settle his hangover. He made Jed some of the fresh apple oatmeal he seemed to like, but when he didn’t appear by midmorning, Max admitted defeat and threw it on the compost heap.
Nagging worry gnawed at Max for the rest of the morning. Though he’d scheduled a day off, he kept himself busy in the boat shed, doing odd jobs and finishing up a furniture project he’d neglected for a while. At lunchtime he carried the hollowed-out tree lamp into the cabin and left it on the kitchen table while he made lunch. Then he stole a trick from Jed’s repertoire and fell asleep on the couch.
It was late afternoon when the sound of the cabin phone ringing woke him from a restless, maudlin dream he couldn’t quite remember. He answered it absently, knowing it would be Kim, Carla, or Dan.
“Yeah?”
“Max? Where are you? Are you at home?”
Max sat up and rubbed his face. Something in Kim’s tone had him wide-awake. “Of course I’m at home. I answered the phone, didn’t I? What’s the matter?”
“Is Nick there?”
“Nick? Why would he be here?”
“Frank’s dead. He died two days ago, and he didn’t tell me. I’ve only just found out.”
“What?” Max got up and took the cordless phone to the back door, scanning the yard yet again for any sign of Jed. “How? Does Jed know?”
“Heart attack. That’s all I know. I only found out because the funeral home called here. I’ve no idea if Jed knows. That’s why I’m calling. Nick and I got into a big fight, and he drove off. I figured he might come looking for Jed.”
Max was silent. He had no love for Jed and Nick’s father. He absorbed the sudden influx of information until something occurred to him. It was midafternoon and Nick’s office was shut until the New Year. “Is he drunk?”
“Yes. He’s fucking wasted, Max. He has been for days.”
“Shit.” Max rubbed a hand over his head, breathing out the curse word low and soft. Nick being drunk as a skunk was one thing, but climbing behind the wheel of his car was another. It was the day after Christmas. Lots of families were bound to be on the roads traveling home. What if he killed someone? Fuck. What if Jed was with him and he killed him?
Max’s blood ran cold. No. That wouldn’t happen. Jed wouldn’t let him drive, and even with Jed’s weakened leg, Nick was no match for him.
“Max? Are you there?”
“I’m here. What do you need me to do?”
“Can I talk to Jed?”
Max shut the back door with a bang. “He’s not here. I don’t know where he is.”
“Find him. Nick’s out of control, and Jed’s probably the only one who can get through to him.”
Kim hung up, leaving Max to stare at the phone and ponder his next move. Find him. That was all well and good, but he’d been looking for Jed all day, to no avail. He glanced down at Flo, sharp eyed by his side, alert that something was afoot. “Come on, girl, let’s go find him.”
He stamped into his boots and set off to check the hiking trails around the lake first, but as he passed the boat shed, Flo bounded off ahead, her bark excited and her tail wagging. Jed appeared by the jetty moments later, dressed in sweats, a hoodie, and his running shoes.
So that’s where he’s been all day.
Jed trailed to a stop a few feet away, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “I’ll be there, okay? But it’s going to take me a couple of days to get to Arizona.”
Arizona? Max gazed at Jed, taking in his dead, hooded eyes and pale skin. He saw no trace of the gently animated man who’d covered the atlas with pins the night before, the man who’d been so enchanting Max had thrown himself at him. “Did Kim reach you?”
“No.”
“Your dad had a heart attack.”
Jed’s expression didn’t change at all. “Is he dead?”
“Yes. I’m sorry….” Max took a deep breath, though to say what, he’d never be sure, because he was cut off by the squeal of tires skidding on gravel.
He whirled around in time to see Nick’s Mercedes careen to a stop and narrowly miss one of the chickens. Furious, Max started forward, but Jed caught his arm and pulled him back.
“Wait until he kills the engine.”
Max waited. Something in Jed’s tone told him it would be dangerous to do otherwise. Nick threw open the car door. He half fell from the driver seat, leaving the car running, and Max’s heart sank. Kim had been right. Nick wasn’t drunk: he was totally tanked.
Nick lurched toward them, his eyes wild. Jed blocked his path, positioning himself in front of Max. “What are you doing here?”
“Dad’s dead.”
“I know.”
Nick stopped, though Max couldn’t be sure if it was Jed’s flat tone or the fact that he couldn’t remember where he was going that brought him to a halt. “You know? How?”
Max ignored Jed’s obvious and unnecessary urge to shield him and stepped around him. “Kim called. She’s worried about you.”
Nick laughed and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Trust me, kid. She’s not worried about me. She’s worried where her next designer handbag is gonna come from.”
“Fuck you.” Max bristled, and with the children safe at home, there was no need for him to contain his anger. Besides, Nick’s accusation wasn’t even true. Kim had fallen into the role of trophy wife because that was what suited him. Before the girls were born, she’d had her own dreams, the remnants of which lay packed in boxes in the boat shed a few feet away. “She’s worried because the father of her children is driving around out of his bloody head. What the hell are you doing driving like this?”
Nick sneered, his derision clear, but before Max could retaliate, Jed reached again for his arm and pulled him back.
“Why are you here?” Jed asked again.
There was a beat of silence as Nick considered his answer, and in that brief moment, Max’s anger evaporated. Nick’s logic was obvious—his father had died and he’d come to his brother for comfort. Naively, it seemed, because it was clear Jed didn’t care. Not for Nick and his grief, and even less for Frank Cooper.
“You don’t care, do you?” Nick said suddenly, echoing Max’s thoughts. “You really don’t give a shit that our dad died.”
“Why would I care?”
Jed’s tone was disinterested. There was no malice or aggression in the words, but Max heard the message loud and clear.
He thought back to the last time he’d seen Frank Cooper. It was years back, right before Nick moved him into the nursing home. He’d been a vile old man, with a vicious tongue. Nick said it was because he was ill and in pain, but Max knew better. He’d seen that kind of hate before… he’d seen it in Nick before. It was hard to imagine that Jed bore any relation to either of them.
“Oh, man.” Nick shook his head, bewildered. “How long are you going to hold that night against him? He made a mistake. We both did. We were wrong, okay? What we said to you was wrong, but you never gave us the chance to put it right. You left.”
Jed let out a humorless bark of laughter. “I’m not gonna argue with you about shit that went down fourteen years ago. You can mourn that old bastard all you like, but leave me out of it.”
“No!” Nick’s face reddened. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. I’ve been dealing with him on my own for years. The least you can do is come to Portland with me and arrange his fucking funeral.”
Jed didn’t answer verbally, but the expression on his face left no doubt that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Max suppressed the urge to intervene. Over the past few years he’d learned that with families, some things could never be fixed. Instead you became trapped in the cycle, knowing exactly what you were doing wrong, but unable to stop it.
Nick took a wobbly step forward. For a moment, his coherency had fooled Max into forgetting he was drunk, but his weak attempt to shove Jed brought reality crashing back. He lurched into Jed, catching him with a glancing, clumsy blow.
Jed didn’t react. Nick came at him again and again, until Jed finally sidestepped him and sent him tumbling to the ground with a flick of his wrist.
Nick rolled over on the ground and got to his knees, his already rumpled clothes covered in mud. “What is this? Some sick kind of revenge? You can’t get back at him, so you put me on my ass instead? How does it feel, huh? Is this what you wanted all along? Me facedown in the dirt instead of you?”
Jed said nothing.
Nick laughed, unfazed by his stony silence. “I don’t get it. What did you want me to do? I know I took the easy way out, but you made it impossible for me to do anything else. Letting him beat us both wouldn’t have changed anything. How many times did you say that to me?”
Flo whined, her eyes on Jed, like she knew he wasn’t himself. Max glanced rapidly between the two Cooper brothers, knowing he was watching something terrible unfold, something that had festered for more than a decade.
Nick remained on his knees, his belligerence all but gone. “What do you want from me? You came back here all busted up and distant. Why are you even here, if it’s the last place on earth you want to be?”
Jed looked as though he might let out a heavy, world-weary sigh, but he didn’t. Instead, he shook his head. “I came back here because you asked me to, and I wanted to get to know your children. Maybe you should sober up and do the same.”
He walked away without another word and slammed the cabin door.
Nick laughed again and sat back on his heels in the icy mud. “There’s something wrong with him. He’s always been a stubborn prick, but that bullet might as well have hit his damn head.”
Max swallowed his retort and crossed the yard to Nick’s idling car. He killed the engine and removed the keys. He considered inviting Nick inside to dry off, or calling someone to pick him up, but instead he went inside and shut the door in Nick’s face.
He found Jed in the living room, growling into his phone. Max shook the keys to the Mercedes and tossed them onto the coffee table.
Jed nodded his thanks and said into the phone, “Can you come and get him? I can’t drive him home. I’ll fucking kill him.”
He hung up and dropped his phone beside the keys. “Thanks. Where is he?”
“Where you left him. You okay?”
“Yep.”
Max nodded silently. He’d been nervous about seeing Jed after their encounter the night before, but now the stolen kiss was the last thing on his mind. “Um, you know, I could go with you to Portland? If you didn’t want to go with Nick.”
“I don’t want to go to Portland. Forget about it. Dan’s coming to get him.”
Max knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but something didn’t add up. If he’d interpreted Nick’s drunken rambling correctly, Frank Cooper had hurt Jed in the worst possible way. He couldn’t ignore it. “What about your dad…?”
“He’s not my dad!” Jed exploded. “He’s not anyone’s fucking father, least of all mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. He’s not my dad. It’s biologically impossible.”
Max didn’t know what to say, and by the time he’d found his tongue again, Jed was long gone, with the distant rumble of his truck driving away the only sign he’d been there at all.