Chapter Twenty
Since Riley was focused on working on the porch, Brent had decided that they needed more than ice cream and leftover hamburger rolls to live on. He hadn’t been into town in a while, and Riley had been subtly hinting that it would be good for him to get out.
As usual, Riley was right. Brent had been reluctant to leave the house, which meant it was important that he did so. He couldn’t afford to become a shut-in.
Even in the familiar surrounds of the grocery store, Brent was a little more anxious than he liked to be. This was exactly like when his parents had died, when everyone had given him sad looks, whispered to whoever they were with about how unfortunate he was.
He knew it was because people were uncomfortable with tragedy, but they could have tried, at least.
The fact that no one had died this time was the only thing making being in public alone bearable.
He should have asked Riley or Emily to come with him.
Just as Brent finished forming that thought, he saw Tom walk through the front doors.
The world seemed to slow to a stop. All Brent could do was stare at him, his stomach going cold, his feet refusing to move. He wanted to duck behind the nearest shelf, stay out of sight until Tom left, but he couldn’t quite make himself do it.
He’d convinced himself that he was okay, but he wasn’t even close to ready to face Tom yet. It wasn’t as though he wanted to yell at him, or even confront him at all, or anything like that, but he didn’t know what was going to happen. He hadn’t planned out what he’d say.
And now it was too late to plan, and Tom was going to look over and see him staring any second, and…
“Hey, Brent,” Owen said from behind him.
It was just enough to snap Brent out of his frozen state, his feet finally letting him turn around to face Owen.
That was good. He wanted his back to Tom. He didn’t want to meet his eyes.
“Are you in a hurry? ‘Cause I’d like to run something by you real quick.”
“Uh.” Brent wet his lips. He was still busy panicking, but Owen was a good client, and he needed to keep as many good clients as he could right now.
Besides, Owen was Riley’s brother. Brent would have done anything for Riley.
“Sure,” he managed. “Yeah, I’m not in a hurry. What’s up?”
“Come through to the back,” Owen said, holding his arm out for Brent to go ahead of him.
It took a serious mental effort to get his feet to move, but once they did, Brent found it easy to stride toward the back room as quickly as he could without running.
As soon as Owen closed the door behind them, he breathed a sigh of relief. Tom was out there, and he was in here, and that meant he wasn’t going to have to face him right now.
“Better?” Owen asked.
Brent looked up at him, his throat still tight.
“I saw Tom come in,” Owen explained. “I figured you probably didn’t want to be in the same room as him right now, and it’s not the world’s biggest grocery store or anything.”
Understanding dawned on Brent, and a wave of gratitude washed over him. Owen had been looking out for him.
“Much better. Thanks,” Brent said. “I guess I wasn’t doing a great job of hiding how much I was freaking out.”
“You looked a little tense,” Owen said. Brent could tell that was an understatement, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t embarrassed to be upset in front of Owen.
“I appreciate you looking out for me,” Brent said. “You always were a good kid.”
Owen snorted. “Yeah, well. You’re family.”
Brent blinked at him. He’d never heard that before.
“What?” Owen asked, apparently noticing the look Brent was giving him. “You are family. I practically grew up with you until Riley moved out.”
Brent had been around at the Jules’ house a lot when he was younger. Riley had been with his family a lot, too. They’d been inseparable since elementary school.
He’d just never really expected any of them to think of him as part of the family.
Mrs. Jules had always been so kind to him, but she was kind to everyone. Brent hadn’t thought he was anyone special.
“I guess,” Brent said. “I never thought of it that way. Not that I don’t like the idea.”
“I’ve come to learn that family is what you make it.” Owen shrugged. “You’re important to us. We care about you. And I know you don’t want pity over what happened on the weekend, so instead, I want to make sure you know you have our support. And that the store’s financial business will still go through you, if you still want the work.”
Brent nodded automatically. “I do. I really, really do,” he said.
“Then it’s yours. Seriously. There was never any question in my mind.”
As what Owen was saying sunk in, Brent felt as though a ton weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was only one client, and he couldn’t survive on a single client alone, but it was a start. It meant all hope wasn’t lost.
That was all he needed to hear right now. Brent was good at turning bad situations around. He was a survivor. But having a little support meant the world to him.
“Thank you. You have no idea how good that is to hear.”
“Hey, I still remember the time I broke a glass in the kitchen and you helped me clean it up so mom never realized.” Owen smiled at him. “I owe you one.”
Brent had almost forgotten that incident, but he remembered it as soon as Owen mentioned it. He’d only been maybe fourteen at the time, Owen ten or eleven.
It was strange to have memories of him from so long ago. Owen seemed so mature, so responsible now, that it was sometimes hard to remember that he was actually younger than Brent.
He’d been through a lot, too. Brent felt as though they understood each other in a way few people would.
Owen had come out the other side of his own personal tragedy just fine, with a beautiful daughter and a happy family.
Maybe there was hope for Brent, too.
“I remember that,” Brent said belatedly. “But you don’t owe me anything.”
“I’m actually not doing this because I owe you,” Owen said. “I’m doing it because I like you. And because you’re a very good accountant, and those are hard to find. You saved me a fortune last year. I want you to keep wanting to deal with me.”
Brent was always a little surprised when people praised his work, but he was proud, too. He tried his best. Accountancy wasn’t a glamorous or interesting profession, but it was steady work and he got to help people with stuff that stressed them out. That was enough for him.
It was also why he couldn’t figure out what Riley saw in him, though. Brent had always wanted a simple, quiet life. Riley was the opposite. He could barely sit still.
“Thank you,” Brent said. “And I know I keep saying that, but I’m grateful.”
“Well, you’re welcome. You wanna hang out in here until Tom leaves? I’ll come get you when he’s gone.”
“Would that be okay?” Brent asked. It made him feel like a coward, but the thought of having to confront Tom here and now was too much for him.
“Sure. Anytime, okay? You can always let yourself in here.”
Brent smiled at that.
Owen had been a good kid, and he’d grown up into a good man.
“Thanks. I’ll just… text Riley and let him know why I’m taking so long.”
“Riley’s kind of like a dog. He doesn’t know how time works,” Owen said.
It wasn’t entirely untrue. Riley’s punctuality left a lot to be desired, though he always showed up on time when it really mattered.
“That’s not nice,” Brent responded, still feeling the need to defend Riley.
“He’s my brother, I don’t have to be nice.” Owen grinned. “I’ll let you know when the coast is clear. Oh, and you’re required at lunch on Sunday.”
“Required?” Brent raised an eyebrow. “Not requested?”
“You’ve met my mom. She’s worried about you and she wants to see you eating.”
“I guess I’ll be there, then,” Brent said.
“Good. You relax, I’ll play lookout.”
Brent nodded, watching Owen head back out into the main part of the store. He sat down behind Owen’s desk and sent Riley a text, giving him a last chance to make any requests for things he might want.
It was weird to think of himself as part of the family, but Brent didn’t hate that idea at all.
Maybe Riley wouldn’t hate it, either.