guys feel like you’re in kindergarten?” Lark asked.
“It’s kind of different,” Marty said. “But it’s not a bad kind of different. Okay, I’ll start.” He looked intently at his brother. “I like the way Ev sticks to things. He always reaches his goals. He’s somebody any employer would want. All the right stuff.”
Everett looked pleased. “Sounds like I’m hired.”
Marty and Lark laughed.
Everett cleared his throat. “I like the way Lark smiles. She lights up the room. And she lights up people’s lives.” He opened his mouth to say more and then closed it.
“Thank you,” Lark said. “Okay. My turn.” She took in a deep breath. “I like the way Marty loves his brother. I would give anything for a brother or a sister.”
“Well, if Ev marries you, you’ll have me.” Marty chuckled.
Everett stuffed a hunk of quiche in his mouth. He smiled at Marty, but it didn’t seem like an expression of benevolence.
Oh, dear. “Could you really have played professionally, Marty?” Lark asked, hoping to soften the pressure on Everett.
“Yep.” Marty rubbed his chin and stared across the room as if he were traveling back somewhere in time. “A group called the Living Legend. I tried out when they lost one of their guitar players. I made it in, but. . .I never got to play.”
“I’ve heard of Living Legend,” Lark said. “They play some good Christian rock. Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
Marty glanced at Everett, who had his lips in a hard line. “Bad stuff happened,” Marty finally said. He waited for a moment and then went on. “Our parents and our sister, Greta, died. Car crash on some icy roads going toward Springfield, Missouri.” He choked back some emotion. “I was the only survivor of the wreck.”
“Everett mentioned the accident. I’m so sorry.” Lark knew Everett didn’t like to talk about the accident, so she let it go. She noticed the scar on Marty’s cheek. Must have been from the crash. “So what do you do now, Marty?” Lark asked, hoping to diffuse the building tension between the brothers.
“I don’t do much.” Marty took a sip of his iced tea and then dropped in a few sugar cubes. “I kind of bum around mostly. Odd jobs. Friends help me out when I get in a bind.” He took another sip and then added some more cubes. “Guess I’m kind of a drifter.” He kept clinking his spoon around in his glass until Everett glared at him. He put his teaspoon down. “Seen a lot of this country but don’t really have much to show for it.”
“You could get a job. You could stay in one place,” Everett said. “It’s a choice.”
Marty wiped his mouth on his napkin. “My choices sort of crashed along with the car that day of the accident.” He wiped his mouth again.
“I’m sorry, but that’s just a cop out.” Everett threw down his napkin on the table.
Lark thought the two brothers might want her to leave. The moment felt more like a private family conversation. She sighed inside. The rift between them ran more deeply than she’d first imagined. “Should I go?”
No one responded. She felt invisible as they seemed transported back in time.
“It’s not just about the accident, Ev. It’s about you,” Marty said.
Everett folded his arms. “How could it be about me?”
Marty paused as if weighing his words. “Because you never forgave me. You blame Greta and me for the accident,” he said gently. “You always have.”
“When did I ever say that to you?” Everett asked, raising his voice a notch.
“You didn’t have to.” Marty shook his head. “The blame was in your eyes. It was the day of the funeral. And it still is.”
“Well, why did you take mom and dad out when you both knew the roads were icy? There was no emergency. You didn’t have to take them clear to Missouri that day. You and Greta were always so reckless. Always had to push everything to the limit. Spontaneity was always paramount to responsibility.” Everett rose.
Marty lowered his head. “We didn’t know the roads were icy, Ev.”
Everett straightened his shoulders. “But couldn’t you have turned around when you saw the roads were getting dangerous?”
“The roads had been okay. But there was just that one bad patch.” Marty touched his fingers to his forehead. “One spot. There’s no way we could have known, Ev.”
Everett dabbed at the perspiration on his face with his napkin. “But why did you always have to take mom and dad with you?