He might sound good, but I have clearly forgotten how to speak intelligibly. I clear my throat. I will not say the word fine ever again.
“How’s Whitby?”
There’s shuffling on the other end of the line. A door opens and closes as he moves through the house. I can almost smell home, roast chicken mixed with the vague scent of Pine Sol.
“Things are basically the same here as they’ve always been, just noisier with all the construction. Finley treats me as if I’m made of spun glass, and Archer barely lets me have more than three seconds to myself.”
I tuck my legs up under me. “What do you mean?”
“He’s dragged me hiking, rock climbing, and fishing. We’ve been bowling three times.”
I chuckle. “All that, and you’ve barely been home a week?”
“Right? It’s like I’m a toddler they’re trying to wear out so I’ll nap better.” He releases a noisy exhalation full of frustration. “And now he said he has a surprise ‘activity’ for this weekend. It’s all a bit… weird.”
I grin at the wall. “It sounds kind of hilarious.”
“I’d think so, too, if I wasn’t the subject of all his attentions.”
I laugh. It’s almost like he’s his old self again.
Jake hasn’t been the same since Aria died in a car accident when they were fifteen. She was driving. Neither of them had a license or even a permit. Shortly after that, Dad got sick, and Jake helped take care of him, then Dad died too. After that, Jake went a bit off the rails. I didn’t even know how bad it had gotten, not really. I was too caught up in my own life and problems. Then a few months ago, he was driving home one morning after staying up late drinking and partying with a friend, and he crashed into a tree. He broke his femur, needed surgery, and was sent into rehab facility.
And now it’s almost like I have my little brother back. Almost.
“I miss you, Jakey.”
His voice is gravelly when he finally speaks. “I miss you too, Pipey.”
I grin at the old nickname, which Jake gave me when he was old enough to realize Jakey was a “baby name.”
He takes a deep breath. “I went walking on the property today to get away from the noise and hide from Archer, and I came across that old tractor by the Carters’ property line.”
“Oh my gosh.” I laugh, shutting my eyes, leaning my head back against the couch.
“Remember when we ran away and hid in it until after dark? I thought Finley was going to make us stay there all night to teach us a lesson.” He lets out a short laugh.
“I remember.”
I was eleven. Jake and Aria were eight. I convinced Aria to let me cut her hair and made a hash of it, the bangs too short, clumps missing from the back and side. Aria barely cared—she was just happy I wanted to play with her. She would have let me shave her head if I asked.
I was so sure when Dad and Finley figured out what I’d done, I would be grounded for the rest of my life, so I convinced Aria to run away and live in the tractor. Jake came with us because the twins were a package deal. We brought one bottle of water and three cookies as our only supplies and hadn’t thought through any of the practical concerns, like where would we all sleep or go to the bathroom, but such is childhood.
“I love that tractor,” I said. Ancient, rusted, probably a death trap but so full of character, so many various little pieces to scavenge… “It would be perfect,” I whisper.
“What would be perfect? You still want to live in the tractor?”
I make a derisive noise even though I know he’s just making a bad joke. “Yeah, I want to live in a tetanus-flavored hut in the woods with no windows or doors so it’s extra murdery. No, you dork.”
His soft laughter is everything.
I grin at the wall. “I always use recycled materials for my work, and I think some pieces of the old tractor might be perfect for one of my projects. I’d have to come see it, though, pick stuff off.”
His voice brightens. “You’re coming home?”
“Yeah.” My mind is already sorting through the next steps needed to make it happen. Maybe it will be good to get out of the city for a couple of days. “I’ll call you back when I know the details. Love you, Jake.”
“I love you too.”