Coach Love(45)

While Kieran sucked in life-giving air, Dom rose slowly to his feet. “I thought I could trust you. Guess I was wrong.”

“No, no, wait,” he tried to say, but his shredded throat wouldn’t cooperate. “I’m sorry.” After a few minutes spent regaining his equilibrium, he got to his feet and saw Aiden, Antony, and their father drinking beers on the picnic table, with no sign of Dominic anywhere nearby.

“Not sure what that was all about,” he muttered, rubbing his neck, his chest heaving. He bent forward and counted to twenty, willing away an impending asthma attack.

“Dominic Sean blows a gasket, nearly kills Kieran Francesco,” Aiden mimed talking into a microphone shaped like a beer bottle. Kieran ignored him and dumped a bottle of water over his aching head. “And now in other Love Family non-news, over to you, Antony.” Aiden stuck the bottle in front of Antony’s face. He smacked it away, laughing before heading over to Kieran.

“That seemed a little excessive. Think he’s off his meds again?” Antony lifted Kieran’s chin, whistling at whatever he saw. “You are gonna bruise, bro. Sorry, we couldn’t get him off you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, wincing when he tried to swallow some water. “He’s just....” For a half second he considered telling Antony what had happened in Atlanta. But he’d sworn not to, so he wouldn’t. “You know him. You’ll have to ask Mama about the meds.”

“He’s on some new ones.” Their father approached the two of them. “Others were making him too sleepy he claimed. Fucking shrinks. No offense, son.”

Antony, now married to the woman who had been his therapist for a few months, nodded in that stoic way he’d developed in the past few years. “None taken. But I think we should check on him. Where’d he go, wonder.” They all turned to the space where Dom’s Harley had been a few minutes before.

“I’ll go,” Kieran said, wanting to make amends, honestly worried about Dom’s state of mind, never mind the guy had nearly choked him to death in front of their father. Melinda expected him for a late lunch after the game. This would be the perfect excuse to avoid that.

Anton wandered back to the picnic table near Aiden who was fiddling with his smart phone. “So, you boys remember about the fish fry, right?”

Kieran had forgotten all about the annual community-wide Labor Day festival. It had been one of the mental markers of his impending wedding, originally scheduled the year before, for the weekend after the event. “You need help?”

“The usual,” their father said, staring down at the bottle he held between his knees, his face a mask of anxiety. “The gal at the Convention and Visitor’s Bureau’s telling me to expect twice as many this year since all the richies have caught on. They think it’s such a cute thing, hanging with the poor white trash regular Lucasville folks. I’m bringing a dozen kegs for the tap truck. You boys are pouring.”

Aiden got up and stretched. “Sorry y’all. But it appears as though my daughter has a fever and is screaming in agony. Guess a trip to the urgent care is in my immediate future.” He saluted his father and snagged the shirt he’d stripped off so he could pour water on his head. “I’m worried about him,” he said when he passed by Kieran who remained at the fence, gripping the chain links, ignoring the near constant buzzing of his phone from the grass nearby.

“Hmm? Who?”

“Dom, who else? He’s really off lately. Worse than usual. It’s like when what’s-her-name bolted. Remember? Maybe you should check with Diana?”

“Brantley?” But as soon as he said it, Kieran realized Aiden could be right. Dom tended to retreat to the Brantley farm to lick his wounds. Diana had hung with the boys for years and had eventually morphed into Dominic’s first high school girlfriend. He’d remained somehow connected to her, although she’d been married and divorced fairly recently, if Kieran remembered correctly. Besides, they all figured she would just as soon castrate Dominic with her hunting knife as let him within a hundred yards of her, all things considered.

His youngest brother studied his phone screen. “This fatherhood thing is a bitch.” He grinned. “I love it though.”

Kieran whacked him on the back of the head. “Pussy-whipped.”

“Yep, and a sweet pussy it is,” Aiden replied, heading for the parking lot.

Kieran watched him go, the heaviness in his chest only increasing. It had taken them a while, but Antony and Aiden had found two amazing women, now had families, and both were happy—or at least as happy as any married man with kids. A familiar bone-deep jealousy crept in around his various physical pains at the realization he’d never, ever find that sort of peace with a woman like Melinda.