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Jeremiah…
Jeremiah swung Red’s door wide open. Inside, with arms crossed, Red sat sullen and unmoving in the vehicle. Jeremiah had already pulled the wheelchair out of the bed of the truck and gotten it ready to sit in. He wasn’t looking forward to dragging his brother up the three stairs to his mother’s rickety porch. “I said get out.” Jeremiah pushed the chair forward until it smacked against the open door. The car beeped, its open door chiming relentlessly. “I don’t care if you are not talking to me. You are getting out of that goddamn truck and staying with Mom.” Jeremiah kicked his brother’s empty wheelchair.
Red glared, his teeth set on edge. When Jeremiah reached in and tried to force him out, the fucker braced himself inside the truck, stronger than expected. Physical Therapy was paying off. “Listen to me. I have to go and I can’t leave you or mom alone. I don’t know what will happen.”
His cousin narrowed his gaze and tightened his grip against the door frame.
“You stubborn asshole. Let the fuck go.” Jeremiah used the weight of his body to force the issue. His cousin released his grip, just long enough to unbalance Jeremiah and slap him right across the face. Jeremiah found himself sprawled in the weeds.
They’d been neglecting his mom, leaving her to her own means too much. Red slammed the truck door shut and locked himself in. Wincing in pain, Red leaned over across the driver’s seat, pulled that door shut and locked that side too. The engine purred, still on.
“Mother fucker. You are not going with me.”
Jeremiah was jerking angrily on the door handle when he felt his mother’s soft touch on his back. “Is he inside the car?”
“Yes, Mam.” Heat rushed into his face as he realized how much cussing she had heard.
She followed his arm to where his hand touched the door. Her fingertips slid up to the glass. She tapped the surface with her trimmed, tidy nails. The smile on her face was gentle. They were her boys, and she loved them both. After her sister’s death, she had absorbed the other woman’s love for Red. They had been raised like brothers in her house. Her voice was kind and patient as she said, “Baby, roll this down.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Jeremiah forced himself not to make fun of Red. The echoes of the boys they had once been rose. Stubborn, there was a pause. Jeremiah settled his hands behind himself, clasping them. After an under his breath grumble, Red brought the window down a few inches.
“More.” His mother said. The sunlight turned the gray in her hair bright as silver. Glaring back at Jeremiah, Red brought the window all the way down. In their struggle, Red’s wheelchair had been knocked onto its side. The top wheel rotated. Jeremiah kept his gaze turned from his brother’s vulnerability, refusing to look at his brother’s face. She reached into the car and cupped his rugged, unshaved face. “My brave boy. I’m so proud of you.”
A choked sound caught in his brother’s throat. “We have that tiny mother’s room in the shed. It’s damaged, but I think it could be fixed. You could work on that while we wait for your ring brothers to come home. With three of them, they should be able to keep one woman safe.”
Jeremiah snorted, and she swept her foot to the side in his direction, so he quieted.
His mother went on, sliding her gentle hands to where Red was gripping inside the car. “I need you.” Once his hands had released, she felt along the door for the lock toggle. “I know it’s easy to forget your mother when you have newly given a pretty girl a grass ring, but you can’t abandon all your old responsibilities for the new ones.” She turned her face in Jeremiah’s direction. “Bring the wheelchair.”
Their Mom opened the door, while Jeremiah set the chair back on its wheels. She said, “Your friends from work are welding a ramp, so you won’t be trapped in the house. You’ve always healed faster than anyone. I’m sure your strength will come back quickly and you will be helping me around here.”
When Jeremiah rolled the chair up to her, she shifted to the side and brought it close to the truck. “Your arms have always been very strong.” She bent down. “Are these the wheel locks?” Before Jeremiah could move around her to lock them, Red reached over and secured the locks on each side. “Good. Very good. Do you remember when I went blind? That summer when I lost that little girl I’d carried through the spring?” His father had beaten her to the point of miscarriage. Red gave a soft grunt. “Every loss has strange gifts. My hearing is so sharp now. Can you hear the hawk calling his mate to him across the field?”
Jeremiah strained to hear the bird’s faint cries. “My hearing has saved my life more than once. It’s how I knew you were there in the room. He knew it too. Your presence made him stop. You gave me the courage to fight.” She patted the padded seat. “I’d like to do the same for you. Let me be there in the room with you. Come on inside.”