The Good Brother Page 7

  “In the master.”

  The thought freaks me out. “That’s my brother’s room.”

  “Exactly why I can’t sleep in there.” She shoves my deodorant aside to make room for her bottles of lotions.

  “I can’t sleep in there either.”

  “What?” She looks up with a smirk. “Are you afraid?”

  “No.” I say quickly. Too quickly.

  Logan sprints to my mattress and jumps on top of it. “I’m taking over this room. So you better get out.”

  I walk calmly to the other side of the bed and lie next to her. “You first.”

  She glares at me.

  I glare right back. I’m not leaving this room. If Logan is determined to sleep here, she’ll have to sleep with me.

  Chapter Ten

  Logan

  “So what?” Tanya asks, the sunlight gleaming in her eyes. “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Did you sleep with Ben? Again.”

  I rub my aching shoulder. “No, I slept on the floor.”

  She gasps. “And he let you? He looked like such a gentleman last night.”

  “I guess I’m special. He saves his jerk side for me.”

  “To be honest, I wouldn’t want to sleep in a dead guy’s room either.” She makes a weird face. “Especially if he only died a few days ago…”

  “That’s not the reason I don’t want to sleep in Harry’s room.”

  “Then why?”

  “It’s hard enough being in his house without him there. I miss him. Sleeping in his bed, smelling his scent, knowing he’ll never come back. I can’t handle it.”

  “Oh, honey.” Tanya wraps her arms around me. “I understand, but look at the bright side. Because you can’t sleep in Harry’s room, you get to spend some warm and cozy nights with his just as delectable-looking brother.”

  I push her away. “If you think Ben’s so delectable, why don’t you ask him out?”

  “Because white men aren’t my style.”

  “Then why can’t you stop gushing about Ben?”

  “Because I’m self-aware enough to acknowledge when my white chocolate brothers are cute, but I—personally—want a black man. I want to fill a house with black children. Then they’ll have black grandbabies and I’ll pass that house on to them.”

  “Sounds very… black.”

  “You know it!” Tanya snaps. “But I’m all for your interracial love. You do you, boo.”

  “Whatever I do, it sure won’t be with Ben.”

  “Is he that bad?”

  Let me count the ways. “For one thing, he kept the lights on until after midnight. Just to annoy me.”

  “What was he doing so late at night?”

  “Watching his stupid Japanese cartoons. Ask me how I know that.”

  Tanya inches away. “I don’t wanna…”

  I follow her and beckon with my fingers. “Come on. Ask me.”

  “How do you know it was a Japanese cartoon?”

  “Because he blared it so loud I heard it in my dreams. That’s how.” I throw my arms up. “Do you know how many times I wanted to throttle that man?”

  “Do I have to ask how many or can I open the store now?” She points to the door.

  “He’s so obnoxious. And annoying. And selfish. Thank God I moved in or he and Reece would be starving in three days. You know he doesn’t have a job, right? Reece told me he just draws cartoons and bums around all day.”

  “That’s good then.”

  “Why is that good?”

  “He doesn’t have a job in the States. He doesn’t have a girlfriend. There’s nothing tying him to America. He can move to Belize and start over here.”

  I straighten, blown away by her words.

  “What?” Tanya arches an eyebrow.

  “I just realized Ben lives in the States. What if he takes Reece away?”

  “Logan, relax.” She chuckles. “I just told you all the reasons why he won’t.”

  But the thought that he will distracts me all day. I trip over the basket of clean towels we keep by the sink. I give a client the wrong change. I even mistake Dye #609 for Dye #906.

  Which wouldn’t be too bad except Mrs. Glenda, an upright Catholic school principal, would have gone into work on Monday rocking fire hydrant red hair in place of her usual mahogany look.

  Thank God Tanya catches me mixing and stops me from making a huge mistake. She grabs my wrist and drags me over to the side. “Girl, what is wrong with you today?”

  “I’m sorry.” I wipe my palms on my apron.

  Tanya sighs and throws her weight from one hip to the other. “That’s it. Call him.”

  “Who?”

  “Ben. Call him and ask him to meet you for coffee during your lunch break.”

  “It’s fine.”

  She pulls her phone from the pocket of her jeans and hands it to me. “We can’t afford to have you distracted. Reece is a big part of your life. You spent five years helping Harry take care of her. Just embrace that and have a real talk with Ben about his plans after the funeral.”

  “Thanks, Tan.”

  She flicks her wrist. “Anytime.”

  I run to the office to make the call. Ben doesn’t pick up the house phone. I don’t have his cell so I just keep ringing the house like a madwoman until someone answers.

  “Hello?”

  “Lydia?” I pull my cell away to ensure I’ve dialed the right number and then put it back to my ear. “What are you doing over there? Did something happen?”

  “No, everything is fine,” she says with a cough. “I’m just here to ensure Ben keeps his promise.”

  “What promise?”

  “To call his parents.” I hear a rustling in the background and then Lydia’s voice grows distant, like she’s addressing someone else. “Did you speak to your father?”

  I press my ear closer to the speaker to hear the answer, but it’s hard to pick anything up.

  “And what did your dad say? Are they coming?” Lydia asks.

  Silence.

  “Good.” Finally, she speaks to me. “Sorry about that, Logan. Did you need something?”

  “I actually wanted to talk to Ben. Could you hand him the phone?”

  “Sure thing.”

  A moment later, Ben’s deep voice rumbles over the line. “What do you want, Logan?”

  I bristle at his tone. “Hello to you too.”

  “Look, I’m not in the mood to fight.”

  “Neither am I. Let’s call a truce. Could you make some time and meet me in an hour?”

  “For what?”

  My fingers tighten around the cellphone. Does he always have to make things difficult? “I need to talk to you about something urgently.”

  He sighs. “Fine. Where should I meet you?”

  “There’s a café around here, but come to the shop. We’ll walk together.”

  “Alright.” He hangs up before I can say anything else.

  I poke my tongue out at the phone. Jerk.

  I’m still nervous when I return to work, but the time crawls by soon enough.

  When Ben walks into the shop, I fight back my surprise. Even though I asked him to come and he agreed, a part of me expected him to flake.

  “Hey,” he says. He’s changed out of his white T-shirt and jogging pants from last night to a pair of blue jeans and a soft denim shirt. His hair falls however it pleases, though the edges I trimmed gives it the illusion of a style.

  “Hi.” I pull my apron over my head and join him at the front of the store. “You ready?”

  “Hey, Ben!” Tanya coos.

  He musters a smile for her. “Hey, Tanya.”

  She takes that as an invitation and saunters over. “I heard about your sleeping arrangements. Don’t let Logan sleep on the floor again tonight. She’s got a bad back, you know.”

  “I do not,” I hiss.

  Tanya ignores me. Her thin eyebrows arch higher. “Grab her and toss her on the bed if you have to.
Normally, I wouldn’t condone that kind of behavior, but in Logan’s case, I think you should.”

  “That’s enough,” I say when Ben starts to smile. Tanya’s filling his head with nonsense. I push his back and force him out of the store. The moment we hit the sidewalk, I whirl on him. “Try that with me and you lose a hand.”

  His blue eyes sparkle. “Yes, ma’am.”

  At least he seems to be in a better mood. Good for him.

  We walk side-by-side. The sun shines brilliantly overhead. A man pedals past on his bicycle and rings his bell as he zips through traffic. The streets are filled with children and teenagers enjoying their last bit of freedom before school starts.

  The breeze lifts my hair and twirls it around. Unlike most hairstylists I know, including Tanya, I don’t like messing with my hair. I’ll wear my natural curls out or wear a straight, black lace frontal. Though I can implement a variety of styles in others, I like to keep things simple.

  Ben seems content to walk in silence. Which is unlike him. It’s been two days, but I’ve been around him enough to know that he enjoys a good verbal spar.

  We settle into a chair at the café. The waitress arrives and we order immediately. As soon as she leaves to prepare our food, I put my elbows on the table and lean over. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I study him. He taps his pale fingers against the table. I hear thudding and lift the tablecloth to find his knees jittering like crazy. Ben is the very definition of ‘not fine’.

  “Lydia said you called your father.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I told him his son was dead. What do you think he said?” He eyes me darkly and then ducks his head. “I’m sorry. I’m frustrated and nervous. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  “Why are you nervous?”

  “My relationship with my dad is… strained. Harry was always his favorite. Even after everything that happened.”

  I know I shouldn’t ask since it’s none of my business, but curiosity gets the best of me. Harry never shared anything about his family. Never. “What happened between Harry and your father?”

  He hesitates. For a moment, I think he’ll brush me off. Finally Ben says, “Did Harry ever tell you about a woman named Lauren?”

  “The name sounds familiar. I think he mentioned her once. By accident. He said she was a friend he knew back home.”

  “She was more than a friend,” Ben says. “She was his everything.”

  Hearing that hits me hard. Harry may have never given me hope that we could be a couple, but he also never brought any other woman around.

  I knew someone else was in his heart and that’s why I could never enter, but I assumed it was Reece’s mother. Not some random woman from America.

  “They met in high school and were close friends until Harry asked her out in his sophomore year of college. They started dating and Lauren spent more and more time with us at the house. Then Harry went to England to study for a year, and Lauren continued coming over.”

  “To see you?” I ask.

  “To see my dad.”

  “Oh.” Then his words dawn and I grimace. “Oh.”

  “Lauren broke up with Harry and began publicly dating my father. They got married a year later. It’s why Harry left. We didn’t hear from him for years. Then he called me to say he was in the Caribbean and that we shouldn’t worry.”

  I frown. “What is wrong with Lauren? Why would she dump someone as kind and sweet as Harry? And for his father? Does she have a heart? A conscience?”

  He smirks.

  “What?”

  “It was a bad idea to tell you. I’m afraid of what you’ll do to Lauren and Dad when they come for the funeral.”

  “I won’t beat them up… in front of Reece.”

  He laughs. “That’s kind of you.”

  “What about you and your dad?”

  His grin droops. He plays with a white napkin that’s only a few shades away from his own skin tone. “I was angry at him for what he did to Harry, but I still took his money. Let him pay for my school and my apartment. I resent him, but I rely on him at the same time.”

  “How… complicated.”

  “Right?” He glances up, his blue eyes shine with discomfort.

  I get the sense Benjamin Duncan doesn’t talk about his feelings often. Hoping to lighten the mood, I smile. “Well, just say the word and I’ll call my cousins over. They know some unsavory people. We can teach your father and his wife a lesson without getting our hands dirty.”

  He laughs and I’m relieved to hear it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Our order arrives then. Ben and I talk of shallow, inconsequential things until I have to return to work. I’m surprised by the disappointment that zips through me as Ben drops me off at the store and walks away.

  Weird. Did I actually enjoy spending time with him?

  Wonders never cease.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ben

  The roar of a plane taking off fills the air. I look overhead, admiring the majestic underbelly of an aircraft as it shoots through the clear blue sky and finally disappears from sight.

  My gaze falls back to earth where taxi men linger on the sidewalk. Some are standing, while others lounge around looking bored.

  Airport workers scurry in and out of the building, dressed in their pressed white shirts and navy pants. The women shoot me curious looks as they pass by. Strange, given they work at an international airport. Most of them see white people all the time.

  I ignore the stares and try not to meet anyone’s eye. I shouldn’t be here for much longer. My dad’s flight was supposed to land five minutes ago and the steady stream of tourists flowing out of the airport is a sign they’ll be out soon too.

  I glance to my right where a group of drivers cluster around the railing separating the public from the airport doors. Most of them hold a poster of some kind with the name of their client written on it.

  Should I have done that?

  Nah.

  The sun glints on my rental car parked nearby. I remove my baseball cap from my head and swipe the sweat running down my temple with a shirtsleeve.

  The heat in Belize is… something else. No wonder Harry looked pink all the time. How long did it take before he got used to the humidity?

  It’s been five minutes since I pulled up to the airport, but it feels like five hours. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen, surprised to find a text from an unknown number.

  UNKNOWN: Hey, this is Logan.

  UNKNOWN: My cousin says the gang owes him a favor. If things get difficult, say the word and they’ll do what needs to be done.

  I snort at her message and tuck the phone back into my pocket.

  Logan is… getting under my defenses.

  On our coffee date yesterday, I exposed my family’s scandal. My insecurities. My fears. I shared feelings I kept secret from my closest friends. It left me feeling flustered. Unsettled.

  So, as soon as I heard Logan’s key in the lock, I turned the lights off and pretended to be asleep. An immature move? Maybe. But avoiding difficult situations has always been a skill of mine. I was ‘ghosting’ before it was a trend.

  Logan was exhausted last night. She just threw a blanket on the ground before passing out on top of it. I felt sorry for her so, when I was sure she was fast asleep, I moved her to the bed and then slept in the couch.

  We’ll have to figure out our sleeping arrangements, but I have a feeling Logan won’t give in until I leave the guestroom and move into Harry’s room.

  A part of me wants to compromise. It goes against my principles to have a woman on the floor while I take the bed. But I’ve got to be careful. Though Logan doesn’t feel like much of an enemy, she sure isn’t a friend.

  I don’t want to get any closer or reveal any more secrets. Logan’s not the type of woman I
can mess around with.

  Besides, she’s in love with my brother. Long conversations about my deep-set emotional scars are off-limits from now on.

  “Benjamin!”

  I hear my father’s voice and lift my head. “Dad.”

  Kurt Duncan strides toward me. He’s dressed in a simple blue T-shirt and patterned shorts. Dad’s forty-eight, but he could easily pass for thirty-five. He’s tall and sturdy with bronzed skin and black hair that’s going grey at the temples.

  He flips his black sunshades to the top of his head. His blue eyes are grim. “Hello, son.”

  “Ben…” Lauren leaps into my arms. I feel something wet against my shoulder and realize she’s crying. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

  I take a step back and gently remove her hands. Lauren’s auburn hair is braided down the sides. Curly wisps lift in the breeze and point to her dazzling green eyes. She’s wearing a soft, pink dress. A dainty bracelet adorns her slim wrist, but it pales in comparison to the rock on her finger.

  “Are you guys hungry? Should we eat first?”

  “I want to see my son.” Dad grabs my shoulders.

  On closer look, I realize his age is beginning to catch up to him. Or maybe the stress of Harry’s death is having a bigger impact than I imagined. Fine lines chase the outline of his eyes and lips. Grey hair inches toward his crown.

  “I’ll take you.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I usher them inside the morgue and wait outside the door. Lauren’s wails burst through the hallway. I pull my lips in as I listen to her agonizing sobs.

  Dad and Lauren will have to sort through their own regrets when it comes to Harry. Now that he’s gone, there’s no more hope of reconciliation. No more hope of forgiveness.

  Their expressions when they emerge are somber. Lauren’s eyes are puffy and swollen. Dad’s lips tremble slightly. Both of them look ready to collapse at any moment.

  I take them to a nearby restaurant though I’m sure that neither of them have an appetite. The day I arrived in Belize, I didn’t feel like eating either, but I’m not suffering from that problem now.

  As soon as the waitress arrives, I order the coconut shrimp for myself and then hand her the menus.