Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,46

middle of it, cutting the farm fields in a babbling flow of water. I could spot cattle grazing, and the sun beat down as if its attention was directed solely on me in this moment.

There was a chance that I would only come to find this paradise once, and I’d made a promise a long time ago never to catalog or map my aimless drives. Because the point was to find a special place in that moment, and if life brought you back to it, then it was a sign of something bigger.

After sitting on top of that hill alone for what felt like hours, I picked myself up and dusted my hands on my jeans. I hadn’t thought about anything for that time, and it felt good. Sometimes, you just needed an afternoon where no heavy questions were asked, no feelings were examined, and you could just sit with yourself like an old companion.

When I got back in the car, I drove toward home. Today, an aimless journey was necessary. And normally, my brain would rebel against the act of settling back into a routine.

But not today. This time, when I knew the journey was coming to an end, I was happy to be going home.

25

Presley

The smell of sizzling hamburgers and Frank Sinatra’s voice fill the air, accompanying the fireflies flashing their butts around the humidity of Keaton’s backyard.

Sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on his patio, I watch as my boyfriend mans the grill.

“You hold that spatula like you know what to do with it.” My eyebrow cocks up suggestively.

Keaton turns, waving the utensil through the air. “Once I’ve cleaned and dried it, maybe we could put it to good use.”

“In your dreams. Is my burger ready yet, I’m starving!” My stomach grumbles.

Keaton chuckles. “You have less patience than a hungry puppy. I just put them on the grill. Enjoy the night air, drink your wine. Listen to Frank.”

“I’m not sure I get the allure of Frank …”

He whips around. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. The man is a legend, the ultimate man’s man. He’s an icon, a—”

“Jeez, you’ve got a real hard-on for a crooner who has been six feet under for over twenty years,” I tease.

Keaton turns back to the grill, mumbling about a certain woman who has no musical taste.

“Let me take you to my kind of club in New York City. The rap lyrics busting out of the speakers will melt your face off they’re so good.”

He shakes his head. “How can we be so different?”

“Opposites attract, baby.” I get up from my chair, walking to him and wrapping my arms around him.

I press up on my tiptoes to rest my chin on his shoulder, looking at how he layers the cheese on top. It begins to melt instantly, and my stomach grumbles again.

Keaton’s pocket vibrates, and I’m all too aware of what that means by now.

If it’s not Fletcher pulling him away, it’s a veterinary crisis. And on another occasion, his mother called in hysterics after watching the home movie of her wedding.

I hadn’t been kidding the first night we slept together when I’d said he took care of everyone. The guy was like Superman, piling damsels and distressed persons alike onto his back and trying to carry them to safety. Meanwhile, no one looked back to see if he was crumbling under the rubble of the disaster.

Keaton wanted to help everyone, and I saw how much that wore him out. How tense his shoulders were after a day in the office. The lines of anger and helplessness in his face every time Fletcher got wasted after swearing he’d never touch a drop of alcohol again. And the monstrous grief of his father’s death, that he kept hidden from his mother to spare her more sadness for herself.

“What is it this time?” I tried to keep the hint of annoyance out of my voice.

“An ewe has gone into distress while trying to birth baby lambs at one of the farms on the outskirts of town. They need me to come out and help.”

He stares down at his phone, thumbing through pictures that have obviously been sent to show him the situation.

And all at once, our relaxed evening on the patio is gone. He’s in Dr. Nash mode. He’s in hero mode. He’s already turning off the grill, taking the hamburger patties off distractedly and putting them on a plate. I watch them bleed juices onto the white ceramic as