A Better Man(7)

"I remember being the only one tall enough to get anywhere near making a basket." Jordan squinted against the sunshine that suddenly peeked out from behind a fat gray cloud. "And I remember the campfires we built on the banks of the creek so we could toast marshmallows."

"Damn near burned down the forest a time or two."

"Remember when Grandma came out swinging her rolling pin at us, then made Grandpa finally teach us how to build a safe fire?"

They both laughed at the vision of their grandmother in her calico dress, apron, and sneakers.

"The thing I remember most about Grandma was her waffles and blackberry syrup," Ryan said. "And the linen closet she'd clear out so we could build tents with her sheets and sleep out beneath the stars."

Jordan smiled and nodded. "And the ghost stories."

"Ah, damn." Ryan grinned. "I forgot about those. 'Bout scared the hell out of Ethan a time or two."

"It was a great way to spend a summer."

Until for Jordan, one day the fun had stopped and the work began.

While his brothers continued to spend weeks away from the suffocating Philly heat and humidity, he'd stayed behind to attend hockey camps. From the moment he'd turned thirteen, his summers had meant waking up at the crack of dawn and hitting the ice to accomplish his dream. Back then he'd never given a second thought to the fact that his brothers all remained together those summers, bonding, while he became a solitary and detached man.

Caught up in the day-­to-­day survival of the NHL, he'd never given much thought to the consequences of his dream or his actions. Hell, for fifteen years he'd never considered what he'd do after hockey. He'd never given a thought to where he'd live or what he'd do with so much time on his hands. God knew, thanks to the hefty paycheck he brought in and his financial whiz brother, he had plenty of money to do whatever he wanted and never work another day again in his life. But then what?

If he wasn't a hockey player, what was he?



       
         
       
        

If he wasn't a brother, who was he?

"I miss those days," he said.

"Yeah." Ryan drained his glass. "Good times. Is that what you were out here contemplating?"

"Naw. Mostly I was thinking about the multiple ways I've fucked up," Jordan answered honestly.

"How's that?"

"I walked away from all this." He waved his empty glass at their surroundings. "From all of you. Guess I've had my head up my ass for a long time."

Though Jordan was an inch taller and a foot wider than his big brother, Ryan smacked the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"You don't get to feel sorry for yourself."

"I'm not. I'm just sorry that I missed out on so much. Hell, I barely even know our sister. She looks at me like I've got two fire-­breathing heads. I don't know what kind of music she likes. Or if she has a boyfriend. Or even if she gets good grades."

"Currently she doesn't."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I can't imagine losing Mom and Dad are going to help her any," Ryan said. "She was pretty much Mom's little princess. Got everything she ever wanted except . . ."

"Except . . . ?"

"Dad's attention."

"You're kidding, right? After five boys you'd think Dad would have finally gotten what he wanted."

"I think Mom got what she wanted."

Jordan's head snapped up and he studied the grim look on his brother's face. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"I don't want to get into this right now. We just buried our parents. It's not the right time or place." Ryan shook his head, then leaned his forearms on the railing and looked out over the vineyard. "Might never be."

"Not fair, Ryan. If you know something, you should share."

"I don't know anything. Just going by my gut."

"Well if your gut is grumbling about something other than Parker's appetizers, then you should definitely spill."

Ryan turned his head and looked Jordan in the eye. "Are you serious about being in to this whole thing a hundred percent?"

"I'm many things, but never a liar," Jordan said, knowing he couldn't get pissed about his brother asking such a question or doubting him. 

"What about your career?"

Jordan shrugged. "I'll figure it out."

"Good to know. Because Nicki's going to need some guidance. Not that I don't love her and not that she isn't important, but I've got my hands full with business and dealing with Riley. She's devastated about losing her grandparents and she needs all my focus and attention right now."