Walker had no idea what he did. All he knew was that Micah was good at it. He was great at everything. The best little brother a guy could hope for.
So, no, Walker didn’t want to avoid his brother, but a visit with Micah meant that Walker would have to see their dad, too. A quick drive over to the care facility, and then an excruciating eternity of staring awkwardly at the floor. There was nothing dangerous about it. Nothing scary. But his pulse pounded as if he were standing at the edge of an airplane door, waiting to jump out.
His heart thundered so loudly that he couldn’t hear himself think, so he stood still for a moment, looking up at the big Hot Food sign that blinked weakly in the cold sun. Micah always wanted to meet at this same dive. Walker thought of him every time he passed it.
“You look like a damn mountain man,” Micah said as soon as Walker stepped through the door.
“Micah. It’s good to see you, too.” His brother stood and hugged him, a gesture Walker was thankful for every single time. They certainly hadn’t learned that kind of affection from their dad. “You look great. How’s Timothy?”
“Still putting up with me. How’s your flavor of the month?”
Walker smiled. “Pretty tasty.”
“Ha. You never change. Good thing Dad never gave a damn about grandchildren. Neither of us seems likely to give him any.”
“Yeah. Not that he’d notice at this point.”
Neither of them bothered with looking at the menu, they just ordered the regular and settled into the coffee with a vengeance.
Walker tapped his mug. “I’m glad you’re here, but I wish we could just hang out. There’s no reason to go see him, you know. He doesn’t know we’re there.”
“Yes, he does. He’s still in there, Walker.”
“Ha. You think? I don’t know who that old man is. He’s not Dad.”
“He’s still happy to see us.”
“Yeah.” Walker looked out the window at the passing traffic. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
They fell into silence. There wasn’t much to say on the subject. Their hard, mean bastard of a father had been reduced by old age to a confused man who was a damn sight happier than he’d ever been when he was healthy. Their parents had married late. Dad had been fifty by the time Walker was born. Unfortunately, age hadn’t softened him early enough for Walker’s sake. He’d still been made of granite and rage all through Walker’s eighteen years at home.
“How’s work?” Micah asked as the waitress set down half a dozen plates on the table.
“Oh, you know. I’m picking up jobs here and there. It’s fine.”
“You’re not at the ranch anymore?”
“No. I’ll find something permanent in the spring.”
“I still think you should’ve kept Dad’s land. The house wasn’t much, but you could’ve run a hundred head of cattle out of there.”
Walker changed the subject. They’d had this discussion a dozen times. “Anything new for you?”
Micah shrugged. “They made me a VP last month.”
“Jesus, man. No wonder you can afford that amazing place on the water in Seattle. Congratulations. You deserve it.”
“Thanks. Are you going to come out sometime? Or do I need to drive a herd of cattle into the yard to tempt you?”
He’d never managed the time off before, but... “You know what? Maybe I’ll drive out this winter, if you’re willing to put me up.”
“Really?” His brother’s face lit up, and Walker decided then and there that he’d make the time.
“Yeah. Don’t bother with the cattle. You’ve only got a patio anyway. They’d make a mess of it.”
“I’m glad, Walker. Really.”
“If you’re sure.”