he’s going to have to work with me.”
“Do you see him being comfortable in your place? In Seattle?” He lifted a mocking eyebrow. “His friends are here. His garage is here. We are here. You know that’s not going to work.”
He stabbed a finger at the Sutton & Sons sign hanging above the door. “And sons, Journey,” he said through gritted teeth. “That includes you.”
“I have a life someplace else, John. I can’t just drop everything and come back here.”
John made a sound in the back of his throat and rolled back under the Civic. A few seconds later, I heard the clunk of metal on metal as he got back to work. “I don’t know why I expected anything different. That’s what you do, right?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s supposed to mean that while we’re here taking care of everything, you’re off doing your Journey thing in your Journey world. You pop back here every so often, make sure everyone is alive, and then you’re good for another couple of years.”
I blew out a patient breath, wondering if it was all that despicable to whack someone in the head with a bottle of synthetic oil—probably.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” I finally said.
John ignored me like I was already gone. In a way, I guess I was.
I left without another word.
Chapter 6
Journey
I decided to do what I always did when I had a lot to chew on—be productive.
I headed to the hardware store and proceeded to buy supplies to fix things around the house. The top porch step was squeaky, and the weather stripping on the front door had come loose, letting the air-conditioned air out and God knew what in. One of the shower temperature knobs had been stripped, and the light fixture in the bathroom was broken.
And on and on the list went. My father had never been much for fancy décor, but he’d always kept the house shipshape. That probably meant he’d been feeling bad longer than he’d admitted. I added a couple doorknobs and a drywall repair kit to my haul and then hustled home.
I argued mentally with John throughout the day as I hammered and drilled, and I won all of our fights. All of them. Maybe he knew what it was like watching our father spiral after our mother’s death, but he didn’t know how it felt to be the oldest, and know that you had to do something about it. He didn’t know what it was like to don the yolk of responsibility and take over.
To have everyone looking at you for answers.
I finished fixing the screen door and gave it a couple of test swings to make sure it closed properly. Fix it, JJ. Mark needs to go to the dentist after school, and I need you to get him there. John needs new sneakers for basketball practice. Can you take him to the mall? Matt needs help with his homework. Would you mind pitching in? Fix it, fix it, fix it.
Once I was sure they could stand on their own two feet, I’d put myself at the top of my priority list. I had no intention of getting sucked back in.
I heard a howl next door, and I knew Cam had probably let Kona out in the backyard. My fingers tightened around my screwdriver. Living next door to him was going to be just as hard as I thought.
I hadn’t known putting my wishes first would cost me the love of my life.
“You quit your job,” he said slowly, still processing. “And you’re going to become a… a what now?”
“A wildlife photographer.”
He stared at me some more. “And you’ve already booked a trip to the Amazon rainforest.”
That was about the whole of it.
“I don’t understand.” He got up abruptly and began pacing a path across the living room. “This photography class was supposed to be something fun. Something just for you. You wanted to do something more exciting with a camera than taking portraits of families in their color-coordinated Sunday best. Isn’t that what you said?”
“I did, yes.”
“And now you’re talking about turning your whole life upside down.”
“Come with me,” I said a little desperately.
“Go with you where?” Cameron all but snarled. “You don’t even know where you’re going.”
“That’s the fucking point, Cam. It’s… it’s coddiwomple.”
He blinked at me as if I’d grown another head. “Dare I ask?”
“Traveling in a purposeful manner without a destination.” When he continued to stare at me, mute, I made a sound