“Why didn’t you tell me about Jay?” Bodhi hisses at me.
I shrug, lifting a hand in farewell as Jay’s brother loads him into the back seat of his car and takes off. He promised he’d talk to his dad and get Jay into rehab. I had no idea Jay was struggling so badly. I’m grateful Cole caught the signs and got Jay help instead of pummeling him the way I thought he would. But the fact that Cole knows enough to recognize the signs breaks my heart. It offers a glimpse into Cole’s childhood that he usually glosses over.
I lean my head back against Cole’s strong chest. His arms wrap around my waist, one hand splaying over my stomach. Cole kisses my temple. “You okay?”
I tip my head up. “Are you?”
His hold on me tightens. “I am now.”
I place my hand on top of his and squeeze. “Thank you, Cole.”
He squeezes back in response.
“You should have told me,” Bodhi continues.
“I thought I had it handled,” I say, shrugging.
My brother shakes his head, guilt rimming his eyes. Then he looks to the corner of the front yard where Beau and Celine are talking for the first time in eight years. “You think they’ll be okay?”
I study Beau’s shuttered gaze, the tension in his shoulders. Celine’s arms are crossed over her chest, defensive and protective. I sigh. “I don’t know. I hope so.”
“Me too,” Blake mumbles, standing from the porch step. “He’ll never meet a woman like Celine.”
“And no one will love her like Beau,” Brody adds.
“How long did they date?” Cole wonders, putting the pieces of their epic love story together.
“All through middle and high school,” I say. “They broke up when Beau enlisted, and Celine moved to L.A.”
“Or Celine moved and Beau enlisted,” Bodhi offers. “We’re still confused as to which choice spurred the other’s decision.”
“Ah,” Cole mutters.
“Well,” Gran says, shuffling into the front yard. “This is some party.”
Cole’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath my head.
“I look around and the whole Turner clan is gone, wreaking havoc in the front yard. Where anyone can see,” Gran continues, moving closer to me.
“Good thing we live in the country,” I remind her.
Her eyes narrow but I spot the humor in them. “Pay per view,” we say in unison, laughing.
I push off the wall of muscle behind me and open my arms. Gran comes into them and squeezes me. “Thank you for my party, Beatrice. I know it was all you.”
“Cole helped,” I admit.
Gran’s eyes soften. “Of course he did.”
“I love you, Gran.”
“I love you, too. Even if you bring too many boys to the front porch.”
We laugh together.
“Celine!” Gran calls out, interrupting Celine and Beau’s exchange. Gran cuts Beau a warning look. She holds out a hand to Celine. “Come talk to me. Beau hasn’t earned back the right to hog your attention.” She turns back to the yard. “Yet,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Damn,” Cole whispers. “She’s fierce.”
“A lioness,” I say proudly, watching my ninety-year-old Gran be the life of her party.
“I see where you get it from,” Cole says.
I don’t know if it’s the sincerity in Cole’s voice or the strength Gran demonstrated or the fact that my whole family is here, in one place. But I open my mouth and at the most inopportune time, with the shadow of Jay still lingering on the porch and hurt blazing in Beau’s eyes as Celine walks away from him, I make an announcement. “Family!”
My brothers freeze, staring at me.
Cole’s hand reaches for mine, squeezing the last bit of encouragement I need to believe in myself.
“I have a showcase in two weeks. It’s in Knoxville and it’s a pretty big deal. I’d love it if you can come.”
A grin splits Bodhi’s face. Pride shines in Brody’s eyes. Blake lets out a surprised laugh. Beau pulls up short, staring at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.
“Of course I’ll be there, baby Bea,” Bodhi says.
Brody and Blake exchange a look. “We’d love to come,” Blake says. “We’ll just stick around an extra two weeks.”
I widen my eyes.
“We’ve got some business meetings we can line up on the East Coast,” Brody explains.
Beau holds out his arms and Cole drops my hand. I rush my eldest brother, wrapping my arms around him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Celine.”
“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me about Primrose and this showcase,” he replies, regret in his tone.
“Noelle spilled the beans?”
Beau snorts. “You mean after she found your replacement? Yeah.”
I kiss his cheek. “I love you, Beau. But I’m all grown up now.”
Beau heaves out a tremendous sigh, as if he’s carrying the weight of the world. I’m sure most of the time, it feels that way. “I know, Bea. And I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“We all are,” Bodhi chimes in, tossing an arm around my and Beau’s necks. Brody and Blake step into the huddle, hugging and squeezing the hell out of me.
Bodhi laughs, glancing at Cole. “Get in here, big guy. We can tell you’ll be sticking around.”
Cole laughs but joins in on the family hug. I close my eyes and soak it all up.
The following ten days pass in a blur. I throw myself into my work at the studio. Cole is the most focused I’ve ever seen him as the play-offs loom and the pressure on the Bolts to qualify picks up.
A few days before my showcase, Bodhi rolls back into town. Gran’s excited to have us all under her roof as even Beau decides to spend the weekend sleeping at the house.
Early in the morning, while Beau, Brody, and Blake snore, Bodhi and I are up early, just like old times.
“Want to get breakfast?” he asks.
“Diner,” I confirm.
We grin at each other—old memories of a past life flickering between us. Early morning diner breakfasts were a norm back when Dad would take Beau and the twins to the ice rink and Mom would treat Bodhi and me to breakfast.
On the way to the diner, I text Cole. He messages back that he just wrapped up a run and is heading to the gym for a lift. I sigh, worrying that he’s pushing himself too hard. I know his next few games are intense, but is there more to Cole’s training? Am I missing something? As usual, he assures me this is par for the course. That he has everything under control and knows his limits.
I don’t want him to worry about my growing concerns, so I back off. As soon as the showcase is over and the Bolts know if they qualified for the play-offs, we’ll talk.
“You okay?” Bodhi asks as I slide into the booth across from him.
“Yeah. Cole’s just pushing himself really hard. I worry.”
“Can’t cut it at his level without pushing.”
“I know.” I pick up a menu, hoping this breakfast distracts me from Cole and his commitment to hockey.
“Man.” Bodhi grins. “I miss this place.”
I glance around the old timey diner. “Me too,” I say, nostalgia hitting me. “It’s been a long time.”
“Bea,” my brother captures my attention. “Why didn’t you tell me how serious you are about starting a business? I could help you.”
I heave out a sigh. “I know.” I pull my business plan, currently a stack of papers with haphazard notes and unfinished thoughts, out of my bag and slide it across the table. “I’d like your help. I know this is a mess, and I’ve already received awesome feedback from Noelle DiSanto. I still need to implement her thoughts but…it’s a work in progress.”
“Nah.” Bodhi shakes his head and grasps the stack. “I wrote my first business plan on a napkin.”
I smile. Bodhi and I order pancakes and coffee for breakfast before diving into my plan.
“What’s your top goal?” he asks.
“I want to have my own shop.”
“Can you do that on your own or do you need investors?”
I shake my head at the sly grin crossing his face. “I don’t want your money.”
“Come on, baby Bea. You know we’ll all support you—whatever way you need—to make this happen. And if you don’t know that, then I want to show you how serious I am. I’ll front you cash.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I’m doing this my way.”
At the steel in my tone, Bodhi snorts out a laugh. I know he’s surprised that I turned his generous offer down, since I’ve always accepted Bodhi’s advice and support in the past, but the hint of respect in his eyes solidifies my decision. I’m doing this my way. I believe in it.
“Okay. How do you get investors?”
“Who aren’t my brothers?” I arch an eyebrow.
Bodhi chuckles but nods.
“Well, the showcase is important for networking. There’s a chance I could connect with someone there. Ideally, I’d have completed a prestigious program, like the Landry Artistic Achievement program, that serves as a feeder into the art world. Investors, clients, mentors, the whole thing.”
“How do you do the program?” Bodhi thanks our server for the coffee.
I fix mine the way I like it and stir it up. I snort. “It’s a long shot. If you’re not legacy, or don’t have a connection—”
“Izzy’s mom?” Bodhi cuts in, referencing my college roommate.
“Nah, she used her pull for Izzy and Iz wasn’t accepted.”
“Damn,” Bodhi whistles, taking a sip of his coffee.
“It’s big-time. But that’s another route. Other than that, just word of mouth. Slowly building relationships, doing art shows around town and within the state.” I shrug. “Build from the ground up.”
“And this is what you want to do?” Bodhi’s eyes don’t waver from mine, but I catch the thread of skepticism in his tone.
“You built a booming business from the back of a van,” I remind him.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “But I wouldn’t wish that on you, baby Bea.”
“Maybe you should.” I tilt my head. “I want to prove myself, Bodhi.”
“To whom?” His eyes narrow.
“Everyone,” I admit. “But mostly to myself.”
Bodhi sighs but understanding rounds out his features. “Okay, Bea. I hear you. Let’s get to work.”
Our pancakes arrive and I cut into mine with a renewed sense of hope. I may not have planned to move back home, but now, I’m happy I did. I met the love of my life. I’m chasing the dream of my heart. I’ve earned the respect of my brothers. It didn’t happen overnight and, like my business plan, it’s a work in progress. But I’m proud of the moves I’m making. I’m happy exactly where I am.
Bodhi and I spend two hours poring over my notes and turning the scribbles, along with Noelle’s advice, into a respectable business plan. When I get home, I text Cole.
Me: Business plan done! I’m heading to the studio to finish a piece for the showcase.
Cole: Great job, Bea!
Me: What are you up to?
Cole: Meeting with Coach and then meal prep. See you later?
Me: Yeah, I’ll message you when I get home.
Cole: Talk later.
I try not to read into his abrupt text messages. Usually, he’ll send me a joke or elaborate. Today, he’s direct, almost abrupt. I know he’s been focusing more on his workouts, his nutrition, his play on the ice. The bead of worry I felt this morning expands as I wonder, again, is Cole pushing himself too hard?
Is this level of commitment sustainable?
Desperate for the distraction, I head to the Art Attic and lose myself in the studio. It’s late when I arrive home, my messages to Cole unanswered.
Frowning, I call his cell. My concern spikes as I catch his voicemail.
Is something wrong? Or is he just tired? It makes sense that after the grueling workouts he’s been doing, he’d pass out early. I press the worry down into the pit of my stomach and join my brothers as they play cards and drink beers in Gran’s kitchen.
It’s nearly 1 AM when Gran decides to whip up a banana bread. I try to stay present in the moment, in the laughing and joking with my brothers since it’s a rarity for all of us to be home.
But I can’t ignore the concern eating at the lining of my stomach.
When I wake up in the morning with no word from Cole, I know something is truly wrong.